“I’m into Kinesiology. You can tell a lot about a person from their eyes.”
“Like they’re the windows to the soul?” My voice drips with derision. I feel like a dick even as I’m saying it, but I can’t stop myself. Mom used to be into that hippy dippy shit. All I saw when I looked in her eyes was broken blood vessels and the same haunted desperation all junkies wear.
Kaya shakes her head, smiling softly, like she was expecting better of me. “Not quite. It’s more to do with physical illness. Tension and stress in your body. That kind of thing.”
“So what about me? Am I physically ill?”
I can see her shaking her head slowly again. “Don’t think so. Hard to tell.” I expect her to tell me she needs to get a better look—I’m already trying to come up with an excuse as to why I’m not going to let her gaze deeply into my eyes—but she doesn’t. We sit in silence for a moment, the city passing us by out the window, Seattle University getting closer and closer. I’m so fucking desperate to get her there as quickly as possible that I barely pay attention to where I’m going. Our journey takes us past Mil’s school; the kids are out at recess and the sound of children screaming and laughing sets me on edge. My sister’s always so fucking quiet. Her teachers tell me she doesn’t really interact all that much. When I asked her about it, she sat there and stared at the floor for what felt like a fucking age, and then she whispered that they made fun of her. Made fun of her because she had a seizure one time and wet herself and now they all avoided her like the plague. Like the poor kid is some kind of leper or something. Such fucking bullshit.
“What are you thinking about right now?” Kaya speaks softly but her words snap me out of the black tunnel I was falling head first into.
“Huh?”
“What are you thinking about? You look like you’re trying to rip the steering wheel right out of the dashboard.”
Sure enough, my knuckles are white, locked around the steering wheel, my fingers digging into my own palms as I grip on tightly. It takes effort to relax my hands. “Nothing.” I clear my throat. “Just trying to concentrate.” Kaya makes an amused sound, shifting in her seat. As she swivels around to face forward, it feels like some sort of wall has gone up between us. “What? Is concentrating not allowed?”
“Sure it is.”
“Then what?”
“I just thought you weren’t going to be one of those people.”
“One of what kind of people?”
“The bullshit kind.” She pulls out more red vines from the pocket of her massive jacket. This time she doesn’t offer me any. “The small talk kind. The kind who tell small, pointless lies instead of just being honest.”
“I don’t even fucking know you. Why would I just start spilling my shit to you?” She doesn’t say anything. The silence is the pointed kind—the kind designed to make you uncomfortable. “Jesus. Why do you even care?”
“Because you looked sad, Mason. And I’ve dealt with sad my whole life. It’s a lonely place.”
“You’re digging into my shit because you think I’m lonely?”
“Yeah, maybe. Right now, I’m reassessing, though. There’s a strong possibility that you’re just an asshole.”
“Yeah. Now you’re getting the picture.” My hands inadvertently tighten around the steering wheel again.
“What are you doing tonight?”
“What?”
“What are you doing tonight? I think you should take me out on a date.”
I can’t really believe what I’m hearing right now. This chick makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. “You’re here in this car with me right now, right? You’ve been present for this conversation? What about the last twenty minutes has convinced you that a date in on the cards for us?”
“Don’t you like me, Mason? If you drop me off at school right now and you never see me again, aren’t you going to wonder about me? Next week, won’t you be thinking, man, I should have asked that kinda crazy girl out on a date?”
“So you realize you’re kinda crazy, then? It’s not just me.”
“You haven’t answered the question.”
I let out a deep sigh. She’s exhausting. Maybe that’s why I give in and do what she wants me to do. I tell the truth. “Fuck, fine. Yeah. I guess, maybe, for some stupid, insane reason, I might be wondering what would have happened if I asked you out on a date. But then I would experience a moment of clarity and realize that I probably dodged a bullet.”
“Just do it, Mason.”
“What?”
“Ask me out.” Kaya snaps more of the red vine off with her front teeth.
“I can’t take you out tonight,” I tell her. “I have a thing.”
“What kind of thing?”
I almost feel like laughing. She strikes me as the touchy feely type. No way is she going to like this. “I have a fight. I’m going to be beating the crap out of someone.”