From H8:
Danny sat back in his plastic seat.
"If I could, I'd like to tell you a thing or two."
More than enough thoughts jostled to reach his lips: Seriously? Who ARE you? No offense, but I only have a half-hour for lunch... "OK?" he settled on instead.
"Good. Thank you." She looked around. "I'm just going to get some tea. Can I treat you to...?" Her eyes roved the creamy salad, the small side of fries, the massive coke.
He put his hands behind him and pushed his chest forward while sucking his stomach in. "Oh, no, thanks. I'm fine." He tried to put a twist on it so she'd be clear he wasn't some needy fool.
As she sped nimbly off toward the salad place, he wondered what was going on. "Heartsick," she'd called him. Who was she? He jabbed his fork deep into the bowl and pulled up a huge chunk of blue cheese which filled his mouth with enough flavor to push off the bad mood. He was a manager at the bookstore. He was paying his own rent. He was thinking about designing again some day. He wanted to lose some of the weight. Who was she? Ignorant, is what she was.
He managed to polish off the fries, crumpling the greasy half-cone and tossing it two booths down. When she returned, he sat waiting, as expectant as a homebound puppy, when she returned.
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