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That’s got to be it.
Glancing down at her awkward gait, I shake my head. That’s all it is. She’s just got a nice ass. That’s it.
And the only reason she screwed up my car sex the other night is because I really wanted her but had to settle for whatever-her-name-is. I just need to find me some different candy and I’ll be fine.
Her big brown eyes catch me staring at her as the wind picks up her hair, making the long black locks shimmer. She flicks them over her shoulder, and I’m about to ask which building she’s heading for when her foot catches on the ground and she jerks forward with an “Oomph.”
Snatching her arm, I haul her back to her feet before she lands on her ass twice in one morning.
“You’re like a walking mishap.”
She snickers, obviously embarrassed, and murmurs a soft “Lame.”
“I wasn’t trying to insult you. I was just stating a fact.”
“Because you couldn’t think of anything decent.” She crosses her arms and scoffs at me.
I narrow my eyes. “Okay, fine. What building are we walking to, Keyser Söze?”
Her mouth pops open. Oh shit, she knows the reference. I figured she wouldn’t even know who I was talking about. But nope, she totally does, and she’s about to slap me across the face or yell at me for being a dick.
Why do I always have to take things too far?
Because you’re a moron.
But it’s actually a good thing. I’m not supposed to be talking to this chick anyway, so making her hate me is doing me a huge favor. I may as well drive her off. I’m fucking great at that. It’s like my superpower.
Biting her lips together, Nylah shakes her head, fighting a grin before looking up at me with the sweetest smile. “Lame. Particularly because Keyser Söze doesn’t actually have a limp, his alter ego Roger Kint does. So really, you should have called me Roger or Kint or Verbal!” Her hands flick up in the air, and now I’m wondering how the fuck she knows about one of my favorite movies.
Yeah, sure, it’s old school. Came out in 1995, before I was even born, butThe Usual Suspectsis a classic.
Is she into old movies like I am?
Walk the fuck away! Turn now! Divert!
But I keep strolling along beside her, wondering why she’s not yelling at me and telling me to fuck off.
Hitching her bag higher, she glances my way and points to the left. “Humanities. I’ve got an anthropology class.”
I nod and still don’t divert even though my next class is in the opposite direction.
We walk in silence for a second, me watching her feet to make sure she doesn’t trip again.
“Did you see that one coming?” she suddenly asks.
“Huh?”
“In the movie. Did you pick up that Verbal was Keyser Söze? Because it totally took me by surprise. Like, I was seriously jaw-hit-the-floor amazed, and then I was laughing and telling the TV how brilliant that was.” She waves her hand through the air. “Not that I spend a vast amount of time talking to electronic devices; I just felt like that movie in particular deserved some major praise, and the only one around to listenwasthe TV.”
My lips fight a grin.
“I thinkThe Sixth Sensewould have had the same effect on me as well, but too many spoilers had hit the internet before I got to it. Thankfully, I had no idea what was coming inThe Shawshank Redemption, and that has got to be the most satisfying ending to a movie ever in the entire history of cinema.”
I gaze down at her, enamored by her eager grin.
“Have you seenShawshank?”
I swallow, barely able to find my voice. “You like old movies?”