None whatsoever.
The first day I'd brought coffee.
The second day, donuts.
The third day, I claimed I needed directions.
To a place I've been before.
More than once.
Mary called me an idiot.
I laughed.
She laughed too.
That one caught me off guard.
Because Mary's laugh is dangerous.
The real one.
Not the polite teacher laugh.
The genuine one.
The one that lights up her whole face.
The one that makes me want to hear it again.
And again.
And again.
“Earth to Romeo.”
I flip my brother off.
“Not listening.”
“You were smiling.”
“I was not.”
“You absolutely were.”
I wasn't.
Probably.
Maybe.
Whatever.
I grab a clean white shirt from my closet and put it on.
I button it, leaving the top two open, and I glance in the mirror.