Page 31 of A Cock and Bull Story

Jude leans back from where he’s lounging on my couch and looks at me in assessment.

“What kind of ‘strange vibe’?” he prods.

I lower my voice to a scandalized whisper.

“Like he wasinterestedin me.”

Sian and Elise exchange a glance.

“Interested?” they ask together.

“Yeah,interestedbutnotinterested—if you know what I mean.”

Theo lets out a bark of laughter.

“No, love, wedon'tknow what you mean. We never know what you mean. Can you please clarify?”

I heave a sigh.

“I mean Dean Hardwick wasn't interested in mesexually. He kept staring at me like I was some interesting. . . uh, I don’t know,thingto him! I have no idea how to express it, guys—and gals,” I add for Sian and Elise. “But, I can tell that there wasn't anyotherinterest—at least, the interest I’m used to getting.”

“Does that disappoint you?” Jude asks, assuming the role of the group therapist.

I ponder his question for a moment.

“No,” I finally answer, “not really. The dean kind of gave me the heebie jeebies. Honestly, last night's events have wiped any thoughts of hanky panky from my mind. . . well, mostly. It's a real mood killer—murder and all that. I know it doesn't probably seem like I'm trying very hard not to be a nympho, but I swear I'm working on it. But today, I promise you, it's the furthest thing from my mind!”

The others give me a bizarre look.

“A nympho” Jack repeats.

“Yeah, ya know—you be a nympho; I be a nympho. . . you guys don't know Fifty-Cent?”

From their clueless expressions, it tells me that they have no idea to what I'm referring.

“Never mind. Back to my problem. . .” I trail off, wondering if I seem absurd to them. “You know what? I don't know why I called you all here. I'm really sorry—I'm sure I've pulled you from your jobs and—”

I stop talking, flustered, realizing I probably have been a very big inconvenience to them.

“I'm sorry,” I apologize again. “How rude of me to never even ask what any of you do in the day—do you have jobs? Do you go to school?” I wonder before addressing Theo. “Like, what do you do? I imagine something with marine animals, maybe?”

The smokin’ hot blond frowns as if I've offended him, and I quickly scramble to backtrack.

“I-I mean, I just figured you did something with. . . with fish—because of your fish,” I stutter in explanation.

Everyone else is looking at me with kind of a shocked expression, and I’m not sure what has gone awry in this conversation. Again, I attempt to clarify.

“Last night, Theo brought his fish over—popped him right into my tub—and I just figured anyone who brings their pet fish with them everywhere must love fish and work with them.”

Arthur gives me the weirdest look.

“That wasn’t Theo’s pet fish—he doesn't even have one,” the Scottish man says.

“Yes, he does!” I defend. “I know what I saw in my tub last night.”

Theo throws up his arms in vexation.

“For the last time—that was me!”