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“Is that a Barbie princess movie? Because I used to hate it when my sister watched that kind of stuff.” He frowns. “Besides, why would you watch movies from the 1980s? We weren’t even born then.”
“They’re classics. My mom watched them with me.” And, I can’t admit to him, they were emotional sanctuaries where, for once, the shy, nobody girl did get the hot, popular guy.
Fantasy, right?
“I’ll have to watch them someday.”
“What did you watch when we were in high school?”
“Saw movies. The Ring. You know.”
“Eww!”
“Don’t judge it until you’ve seen them.”
“I am totally judging Saw movies, sight unseen. Or not unseen. Karen the overly officious cop made me watch fifteen minutes of Saw 3 when I was six and it warped me for life.”
“Not very open minded of you.”
“I embrace my intolerance for gore. I own my judgment on this one. Call me Miss Judgment.”
“I misjudged you, all right.”
Something in his voice makes my breath hitch.
“Say yes.”
“What?”
“Say yes, Mallory. Be my date. Let’s show those assholes that we’re adults. We’ve matured.”
“We have? Speak for yourself. I still can’t watch horror movies without a blanket to throw over my head and I have no idea how to change the oil in my car.”
“That’s your measure of adulthood? If so, I’ve been an adult since I was eleven.”
“I’m a late bloomer.”
His eyes graze over my body. “You definitely bloomed well.”
“What? What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you need a date. I need a date. We both have needs. Let’s meet each other’s needs.”
There is a point in conversations with people you could sleep with where you find yourself in a demilitarized zone of language. This is one of them. Is Will flirting? Joking? Being ingenuous? Mocking me? I can’t read his words right now. The most reasonable interpretation is the one I can’t bring myself to believe possible:
He’s sexually attracted to me and is making his intentions known.
Occam’s razor says this is the most likely, and best, interpretation.
Murphy’s law trumps Occam’s razor, though.
Anything that can go wrong–will.
Will.
If I’m wrong, I lose Will. Lose the friendship, lose my not-quite-a-job, lose the tenuous sense that maybe all those hopes and dreams and fantasies from years ago weren’t in vain.
So I can’t.
