Read Online The Space Between Us by Megan Hart - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Megan Hart
Ads: Link
“We’re just friends. She’s not…you know.”
“And you are?”
I shrugged and checked over the desserts in the case, noting which would need to be pulled later if they didn’t sell. “Sometimes. Once in a while. Discriminately.”
“How many?”
I turned. “What?”
Darek appeared way too intrigued. “How many girls?”
“This place,” I told him with just the barest sourness in my tone, “has really become, like, this hotbed of prurience.”
“Whose fault is that?” Darek asked, with a lift of his chin toward Meredith’s table.
“Pffft. You can’t blame her for everything. You’re the one grilling me on my sex life! I already told Meredith—”
“Yeah?” Again, he seemed too interested, all lolling tongue and wide eyes.
I put one fist to my mouth, the other at my cheek, and made a cranking motion. “Roll up your tongue. It wasn’t about girl-girl action.”
Darek appeared only faintly disappointed before perking up again. “Then what was it about?”
I wasn’t going to tell him about the Murphys. Dredging up that past stuff had already wreaked a bit of havoc on my brain. “None of your business. God, do I grill you about your sex life?”
“You could,” he said. “So…I’m just curious, Tesla, that’s all.”
“About my lesbian history?” I had to laugh at him, so typical male. “I had one serious girlfriend. We dated for about four months before she dumped me for a guitar player in a folk rock band who wore wife-beaters all year round and had a tattoo of the feminine symbol on her twat.”
His look said it all.
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s what I thought, too.”
Darek made a face. “That’s it? That’s all you got?”
“Look,” I said, suddenly disgruntled. “What did you think I had? Some long and lurid inventory of lesbian dalliances I’d trot out for you like a laundry list, complete with descriptions? A ‘Desperate But Not Serious’ sort of thing going on? Who with and how many times?”
He totally failed on the Adam Ant reference. “Huh?”
I sighed. “Never mind.”
“Sorry.” Darek frowned. “I just, you know. Thought maybe it was more exciting than that.”
I sighed again, this time in exasperation. “Why?”
“Because you just seem like you’ve had an exciting life, Tesla, that’s all. Jesus. I’m sorry!”
Wild child. I touched my throat, felt the pendant in the shape of a rainbow with a star on the end. Today I wore a black shirt with a picture of the cover of the Rolling Stones’ Sticky Fingers on the front—some dude’s crotch. Black leggings with rainbow leg warmers. Black ballet flats. I had glitter in my hair, but so what? Unconventional, maybe, but not that exciting.
“Well,” I said, “I’m really not.”
Darek looked over the front counter to the group of laughing customers. “Maybe you should tell her that.”
“Tell her what?” I frowned and wished for someone to come and order something, or for Joy to pop out of the back to yell at us. Anything to keep this conversation from continuing. “Oh, that. Well. It’s just a crush. It’s not like I haven’t had them before. They go away, Darek.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“You’ve never had a crush?” I rolled my eyes. “Please. I see how you look at that girl who comes in here, the one with the red hair.”
“Yeah, she’s hot. But it’s not a crush.”
“Whatever.” I waved a hand. “You gonna tell her you like her? Ask her out, maybe?”
“She has a boyfriend.”
“So you get it,” I told him. “It’s better just to crush in silence.”
He didn’t look happy about that, but he didn’t argue with me, either. Then finally one of Meredith’s admirers broke off from the group long enough to come up and order a slice of pie and another latte, so both of us had something to do and we didn’t have to talk anymore.
The rush helped, too, leaving both of us so busy we didn’t have time for deep and soul-searching conversations about the
“And you are?”
I shrugged and checked over the desserts in the case, noting which would need to be pulled later if they didn’t sell. “Sometimes. Once in a while. Discriminately.”
“How many?”
I turned. “What?”
Darek appeared way too intrigued. “How many girls?”
“This place,” I told him with just the barest sourness in my tone, “has really become, like, this hotbed of prurience.”
“Whose fault is that?” Darek asked, with a lift of his chin toward Meredith’s table.
“Pffft. You can’t blame her for everything. You’re the one grilling me on my sex life! I already told Meredith—”
“Yeah?” Again, he seemed too interested, all lolling tongue and wide eyes.
I put one fist to my mouth, the other at my cheek, and made a cranking motion. “Roll up your tongue. It wasn’t about girl-girl action.”
Darek appeared only faintly disappointed before perking up again. “Then what was it about?”
I wasn’t going to tell him about the Murphys. Dredging up that past stuff had already wreaked a bit of havoc on my brain. “None of your business. God, do I grill you about your sex life?”
“You could,” he said. “So…I’m just curious, Tesla, that’s all.”
“About my lesbian history?” I had to laugh at him, so typical male. “I had one serious girlfriend. We dated for about four months before she dumped me for a guitar player in a folk rock band who wore wife-beaters all year round and had a tattoo of the feminine symbol on her twat.”
His look said it all.
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s what I thought, too.”
Darek made a face. “That’s it? That’s all you got?”
“Look,” I said, suddenly disgruntled. “What did you think I had? Some long and lurid inventory of lesbian dalliances I’d trot out for you like a laundry list, complete with descriptions? A ‘Desperate But Not Serious’ sort of thing going on? Who with and how many times?”
He totally failed on the Adam Ant reference. “Huh?”
I sighed. “Never mind.”
“Sorry.” Darek frowned. “I just, you know. Thought maybe it was more exciting than that.”
I sighed again, this time in exasperation. “Why?”
“Because you just seem like you’ve had an exciting life, Tesla, that’s all. Jesus. I’m sorry!”
Wild child. I touched my throat, felt the pendant in the shape of a rainbow with a star on the end. Today I wore a black shirt with a picture of the cover of the Rolling Stones’ Sticky Fingers on the front—some dude’s crotch. Black leggings with rainbow leg warmers. Black ballet flats. I had glitter in my hair, but so what? Unconventional, maybe, but not that exciting.
“Well,” I said, “I’m really not.”
Darek looked over the front counter to the group of laughing customers. “Maybe you should tell her that.”
“Tell her what?” I frowned and wished for someone to come and order something, or for Joy to pop out of the back to yell at us. Anything to keep this conversation from continuing. “Oh, that. Well. It’s just a crush. It’s not like I haven’t had them before. They go away, Darek.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“You’ve never had a crush?” I rolled my eyes. “Please. I see how you look at that girl who comes in here, the one with the red hair.”
“Yeah, she’s hot. But it’s not a crush.”
“Whatever.” I waved a hand. “You gonna tell her you like her? Ask her out, maybe?”
“She has a boyfriend.”
“So you get it,” I told him. “It’s better just to crush in silence.”
He didn’t look happy about that, but he didn’t argue with me, either. Then finally one of Meredith’s admirers broke off from the group long enough to come up and order a slice of pie and another latte, so both of us had something to do and we didn’t have to talk anymore.
The rush helped, too, leaving both of us so busy we didn’t have time for deep and soul-searching conversations about the
Similar Books
