believe Nina about Blood Death III, but it was clear she didn’t want to watch a film with him. He wanted to stop bickering with her but wasn’t sure how. He opened his mouth to suggest something, and then she suddenly thrust the ticket back at him and turned and walked out.
He watched her go, realizing for the first time that he really was attracted to her and that she apparently hated him so much she was willing to break all social conventions and walk away without a word.
As she walked toward Vine Street, Nina realized she had done exactly what Lisa had done, and giggled a little, somewhat hysterically. She was starting to calm down, but her palms were still tingly. Her anxiety had gotten better in the last several years, once she’d started to use a planner and keep a schedule and basically try to control every aspect of her life, but it was always curled up at the base of her spine like a sleeping cat. Any step off the normal path, any deviation from standard, and it started lashing its tail.
Suddenly, she wanted to cry. She’d been doing so well, but clearly she wasn’t one of those people who could be spontaneous, and that was going to have to be OK. She didn’t want complexity in her life, and with work and the new weird family thing, she definitely didn’t have space for a boyfriend.
Time to go back into hiding.
Nine
In which Nina gets schooled by well-meaning
but ill-informed children.
“You did what?”
“I just turned and walked away.”
Polly stared at her. “But, wait, I thought you liked this guy. Or rather, I thought he was cute and, therefore, you might like him once you got to know him. There was the possibility of liking.”
Nina nodded. It was the following Monday, there were no customers in the store yet, and Polly had shown up on time for once.
Polly continued, “And yet, when you had a chance to talk to him, you walked away.”
“Right.”
Polly narrowed her eyes. “So I’m struggling with this. Talk me through it.”
Nina sighed. “I went to the movies, alone. I saw him there. Weird circumstances involving a girl on his trivia team meant suddenly the two of us had tickets to the same movie, then I freaked out and walked away.”
“Without a word?”
“Silently, yes.”
“No pathetic excuse, even? No ‘I have a headache’?”
Nina shrugged. “The other girl beat me to that one, and I was freaking out, remember?”
Polly shook her head. “It’s amazing to me you ever get laid at all.”
“It’s amazing to me, too.”
“When was the last time?”
“We’re not talking about this.”
“We are. I can hear us.”
“No.” Nina walked away toward the stock area to grab some books that needed shelving, or something. Anything.
“Well,” said Polly’s voice from behind her, “if it’s any consolation, you have a great walking away view. Walking away makes your butt look awesome.”
“Good to know,” called Nina. “I’ll make sure I always keep attractive men behind me.” She paused. “You know what I mean.”
“Sadly,” said Polly, “I do.”
At the end of the day, Nina started to set out the beanbags for the elementary book club. She’d been feeling irritable and sad all day, but she knew the generous application of little girls would distract her perfectly.
“All right, young one,” said Liz, pulling on her battered Dodgers baseball hat. “It’s an important game, and I am so out of here I am basically a dot on the horizon.”
Nina frowned at her. “You’re still very much in front of me.”
Liz replied, “And yet my heart is already in the stadium, a hot dog in its hands, ketchup on its chin.”
“Does a heart have a chin?”
“Some have several. I, however, am slender and lissome, so mine only has the one.” And with this utter ridiculousness over, Liz touched the brim of her cap and left the store. Nina stared after her for a moment and shook her head. Honestly, that woman was a lunatic.
“Do you need any help?” Nina looked up to see Annabel, one of her book club ladies, as she called them. Annabel was ten, a serious child, with deeply held beliefs and unwavering suspicions.
“Sure,” said Nina. “Can you grab the extra beanbags from the office?”
Nina had started out using regular chairs, but everyone had been silent and reserved. Beanbags worked much better. Annabel knew where they were kept; this was the first book club she’d joined, but she was one of those kids who was geared toward mastery. She wanted to know