Love At First Night

18.

LISA DOESN'T GET frustrated. She doesn't get angry, or distant, or weird. Even if she finds my request to talk a total mood killer, the measured step she takes back from me isn't passive aggressive or cruel. It's patient. It gives me the space I need to march into the middle of her room and pace a few laps, sucking in deep breaths of cool air and trying to clear my head before I turn to face her again.

She leans against her desk and nods, giving me the floor.

"So." I clear my throat. "I ran. On Monday"

"I know," Lisa says. "I was there."

I huff and shoot her a warning look.

"I have stage fright, I guess. Not that I was handling everything great before that-"

"I was about to say," she quips with a smile that's more kind than it's teasing. "Look, I don't blame you for leaving. I didn't know the guys were going to come spy on me. My friends are idiots. I apologize on their behalf."

"Don't apologize yet," I snap. "Can I at least make my points first?"

Lisa holds her arms wide open.

"Apology rescinded. Give me your worst."

I take a deep breath and fold my arms over my chest to steady myself.

"I don't like that your friends knew where to find us. And I know I can't ask you not to talk to them about this kind of stuff, because obviously I've told Jennie and Joy everything-don't give me that look. I know. Of course I talked to them about it. And I'd be a hypocrite to be mad at you, but the fact that they came into Starbucks and sat there and watched us and probably took pictures to send to some sort of team group chat made me feel-so-so-" I let out a strangled groan, "-so attacked. Like, when girls talk about toxic masculinity and guys being gross with each other? It's that. That feeling of being made fun of, and being watched and harassed."

The whole time I'm speaking, Lisa's smile falls.

When I'm done, she swallows hard and says, "I'm sorry, Roseanne. It wasn't my intention-it wasn't our intention. I promise. But intention doesn't matter. I hurt you. And I'm sorry."

I can tell this one's not on behalf of her team. This apology is her. I bite back the impulse to say it's okay, because it's not. But I do nod-just so she knows that her apology is acknowledged. Not accepted. Acknowledged.

"I also ran because I was... confused."

"About what? Let's talk it out."

I arch an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Of course. I don't want you to be confused about anything."

It's so not what I expected and it's so validating to be treated like my overactive emotions aren't irrational or an annoyance.

"I think I told you already that I'm not  good at this game," I begin.

Lisa opens her mouth.

"I know" I cut her off. "I know you said it's not a game. But that's the only way I can describe what it feels like. And it feels like I missed something, or nobody gave me the rulebook, and maybe I'm just stupid, but-"

"You're not stupid," Lisa interrupts sharply. "Ask me something. Anything."

I chew on my lip and search her face for any hint of humor. There's none. She's dead serious.

"When you left the note at the library," I begin, my voice wobbling just a little, "was that code for, like, wanting to go on a coffee date? Or hook up? Or was it really just for tutoring? Or-I don't know. I didn't want to read too much into it."