15) Hesitation is Pointless

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Natalie

Some people have an impeccable fashion sense. Others have an impeccable knack for being annoying, arrogant, and impulsive. Basically, any adjective one could apply to run-of-the-mill nutcases we call "humans". The characteristic, in turn, could either increase or decrease a human's likability.

If I added an impeccable tag to my profile, I would need to include a thread directed at an unsavory quality called "no conscience". How I can completely abandon a sickly friend who ignores his health for his doctor's convenience, I don't know. I'm an insurgent bonehead rebelling against the reins of my mind. Although I suppose having no conscience entails having no guilt and not observing the subject constantly.

I watched Winn strut into the building this morning. He was still alive during lunch and when he entered Mrs. Langley's room. I abandoned my watch to meet the last person on the delectable menu Winn smashed together. I say smashed literally and figuratively. I could imagine him compiling the "matches" blindfolded. That, or those encounters, were a test of sorts.

A male, about five foot four, with black hair, blue eyes, and a bright yellow button-up, that's the human I'm searching for according to the "match".

From my left, a guy fitting the description strides toward me. His beard and crowned hair are trimmed to an inch. I note, scanning his sparkling white Vans and tan khakis. He regards me with a white, toothy grin. "Ah, Natalie, nice to finally meet you." The guy, presumably Kyle Sutton, has a voice that doesn't ring as boyish or even mildly immature. He seems far from the quirks of adolescent voice change.

"Nice to meet you too." I smile, skimming his wrinkle-free attire and tucked shirt with sleeves rolled up his forearms. The put-together piece he showcases makes me seem underdressed in my usual after-track practice attire. Which consists of leggings, a short-sleeved tee, and a light jacket on chilly days, including this one.

Kyle blinks and rubs his palms along his tanned forearms in a self-soothing motion. For someone who is supposed to be in high school, he looks like he's already hit the after-senior phase. Although, most seniors already look like adults. How old is he? The information doesn't surface in my brain. This is what I get for not reviewing the profile thoroughly beforehand. "So, let's walk and talk, shall we?" He gestures to the sidewalk, away from the bike lane.

Clicking my tongue, I nod, holding words on the tip of my tongue. Once we reach the crosswalk, I stare at Kyle, stuffing my hand into my pocket. "How old are you?" I question.

"Twenty-two," he says, halfway across the street. I drop behind him by a foot. Logically, Winn wouldn't set me up on a "date" with a guy six years my senior. Winn is a lot of things, but not someone who encourages lawbreaking. "Did Winn not tell you?" Kyle's brows knit into a thin line.

Tell me what? Which thing, Kyle?

"He's definitely in la la land. We went over this on Saturday," Kyle mutters, shaking his head. "I'm the founder and CEO of Scramble. My street name is Kyle." His brows quirk, and he grins. "But all Eggs call me Benedict," he pauses, "Yeah, I know. It's an inside joke... there are lots of eggy inside jokes. You'll learn." How did I not know the CEO's name? How boneheaded am I? He continues before I say the next word, "I make a point to meet with all hires on their third meetup. And no, whatever you're thinking is damn creepy. I'm not a twenty-two-year-old predator." He makes a negative buzz, vibrating his lips while forming an "x" with his arms.

"What makes you believe I was thinking anything sinister?" I cross my arms over my chest as we stop at the next crosswalk. The car to the left lets us proceeds through.

"Ah, don't know." Kyle shrugs and spins before me. Wrinkles form around his eyes, and his face strains at the sheer amount of muscles performing the action of smiling. "This-possible employee of Scramble-was a test." Kyle grins similarly to any villain portrayed in films. "I've found that peeps who experience our program firsthand fare better once we, the Yolk team, the ones who are allowed to hire and basically inner circle, flip you out of the fryer." He snorts. "Oh, and I don't normally talk like this. The look on your face is just priceless."

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