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“You here by yourself?” I asked him, thanking the woman for my drink.
“I usually go out by myself, so yes.”
“Really, you? I thought you were Mr. Social.”
“Socializing with people doesn’t require me to have a group of friends I’m constantly in the company of. I’m fonder of going places on my own or with one other person. I tend to enjoy things more that way.”
I took a drink and was immediately glad of my choice. “Is this your less than subtle way of telling me you want to spend time with me? Because I’m really not sure I’m down for that.”
“I might be alluding to that. On one condition, though.”
“You say, as if this was my idea, and you’re simply agreeing to it instead of the other way around.”
Shane chuckled again, reaching out and adjusting the kerchief around my neck with a flick of his fingers. “We act as if we’re here and not back at my mother’s home. You’re not on the clock, and I’m not…who I am at home.”
“Does this mean you’re going to act like an actual person instead of a cocky asshole with good shoulders and a smart mouth?” I asked and then immediately winced.
His eyes sparkled, but he tilted his head. “I can’t promise that because then I wouldn’t be myself. But I’ll make an effort not to taunt you quite as much and not try to push you into reacting to my…games.”
It was easily the worst offer I’d received in a while. All the man did was drive me up a wall, and all I did was insult him and constantly try to push him away. What could we possibly have to say to one another now that would be any different than what we’d say at the house? Was this just another lame attempt to figure out his little mysteries or some way to end the night with a more complex attempt at screwing with me?
Then again, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was genuine. Of course, that could mean he was genuinely attempting to connect with me since he’d more or less admitted he didn’t have any friends to speak of. Or it could be related to his very unnerving habit of showing interest in me.
“You can act like a person then?” I asked, shortening my original statement.
“I suppose you’ll have to be the judge of that,” he said with a shrug.
Bad, bad idea.
“Why do you say Halloween is a chance for people not to have to be themselves?” I asked, instead of walking away like an intelligent person.
“Why not? You see meek and mild people dressing up as soldiers and firefighters, and perhaps they even get a little courage from it. You see people like yourself, who are professional and well behaved in their normal life but let their hair down and show a little skin.”
“Coming back around to my costume, are we?”
“It’s good and the most immediate example. Are you trying to say you’re not enjoying yourself? You didn’t get a thrill fitting your butt into those shorts, showing off your body to anyone who would see you?”
“Fitting my…” I began, turning to examine my butt. Admittedly, it had been a bit of a squeeze, but I was wondering if he’d ever been serious about not trying to mess with me. “Fine, alright. I guess I see your point. I just never put that much thought into it.”
“Alright then, what does Halloween mean for you?”
“It means I have a good excuse to dress like a slut and get drunk.”
“And what stops you from doing that any other day?”
I looked him over, raising my brow. “And what stops you from going off and becoming an actual monk? Or at least, trying to exercise some abstinence, moderation, or piety?”
He tilted his head back and laughed. “Because that’s exactly what so many people wanted from me growing up. Expectations are boring, especially when that’s all anyone lives for. I was expected to moderate my behavior, speak well and never rock the boat. Even the littlest things were seen as causing waves and eventually…”
I took another drink, absently holding it out for him to try. “Eventually, you realized you were either always going to be considered a screw-up or simply embracing and embodying it?”
He hesitated, brow quirking before accepting the sip. “That is…more or less it, yes.”
“I thought monks weren’t supposed to drink,” I teased. “And don’t look so surprised. You’re not the only one who’s allowed to have insights into other people. And it’s not like you’d be the first person who ever lived a restrictive lifestyle and said, ‘fuck it, if I’m going to be the bad guy, then so be it’ and did just that.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
“Eh, sort of,” I shrugged. It was weird to be talking about…well, anything normal with Shane. Yet I couldn’t deny he had so far managed, however briefly, to act like a normal person.
