Stepping Up to the Plate

He trailed off, letting his gaze drift to the clock on the wall. He was surprised to see it was almost that now—had he been here a half hour already? Rambling on about himself, and asking fifty million questions about every little thing Darian said. “Damn. I better go.” Pushing away from the counter, he apologized. “I didn’t mean to keep you or nothing.”

Darian assured him, “You didn’t.” He clapped Stacy’s shoulder, a friendly gesture, though the touch of his hand through Stacy’s shirt heated his blood. “Hey listen, I’ll see you tomorrow, alright? Maybe we can do lunch again or something, what do you say?”

What couldhe say? “Sure,” Stacy agreed, nodding. He wants to do lunch again,he thought as he left the classroom. The halls around him were empty now, the other students—and most of the teachers—gone. Lunch. With me. He wants to sit with me.