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“Okay, this is useful. Now we know you have to focus on not smothering her!”

“Wow, gee, why didn’t I think of that before?” Brougham glared. His attitude couldn’t affect me right now, though. I was simply brimming with confidence.

“Okay, let’s practice. What are you gonna say to her when you see her?”

“I dunno. Hi, I guess?”

“No! Don’t say hi, because then if she just says hi, the conversation dies and it gets awkward and it’s all downhill from there. You need to ask open-ended questions.”

“Like what?” Brougham asked, lolling his head back. God, is this what it was like to be a teacher when kids gave sass in class? I reminded myself to tell Mom how much Iadmired her when I got home, because if I were her, I would’ve marched out of class mid-lesson, driven to McDonald’s, and eaten some chicken nuggets while pretending I didn’t have responsibilities long ago.

“How are you, how are your parents, that sort of thing.”

“Okay, got it.”

“Good, let’s go. ‘Hi, Brougham!’”

“Oh, brilliant, you’re fake Winona again.”

“Yup.Hi, Brougham.”

“This is stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, you just don’t want to do it. Too bad.”

He stared at the corner of the ceiling while he took in a slow, deep breath. I wondered if this was a natural reaction or a planned coping mechanism for dealing with me. “Hey, Winona. It’s been ages. How have you been?” His tone was overly chirpy, like he was auditioning for a cleaning-product commercial. He even injected some emotion into his facial expressions.

“That’s fine, now let’s go bigger. Try kicking things off with something more dynamic this time.”

He blinked, all traces of sunshine gone from his face in one hit. “Such as?”

“Like, an icebreaker. Tell her about something funny that happened on the way over, or something you saw that reminded you of her.”

“Got it. How about, ‘Hey, you! Today I spent the morning being nagged and criticized by this girl I know, and it reminded me of that fight we had in the car the night I met your parents. How aretheydoing, anyway?’”

“If you’re not gonna take this seriously—”

“Phillips, hey.” He got to his feet and clasped his hands in front of him. “Thank you. But please trust me on this, Iknow Winona. If I’m in my head about conversation rules,that’sgonna make shit awkward. I don’t need help with this. I need help with later on, once we’ve been together for a while.That’swhen she starts distancing.”

It stung. He’d approachedme,askedmeto give up my morning helping him get Winona back, and now he didn’t want to hear any of the advice I had. I wasn’t just making it up, either. I’d spent all last night combing through YouTube videos, especially Coach Pris Plumber’s backlog, finding the basic foundations of seduction. And none of it was good enough for him.

But I guessed it wasn’t up to me. I just had to trust him.

“Okay,” I said. “Got it.”

“Awesome. So, should we get going?”

“One sec. Just… let me…” I ruffled my fingers through his hair to fluff it up. “There. Now we can go.”

I could’ve sworn, just for a moment, healmostgrinned at that.

EIGHT

Character Analysis:

Alexander Brougham

So scared of rejection he lashes out to remain in control.