Girl Against the Universe Read Free Page A

Assembled Boy has materialized in front of me. For being about six foot five, he’s shockingly light on his feet.
    â€œUm . . . yes.” I turn to the next page of my book with a meaningful flourish and start reading, but my eyes trace the same sentence over and over because the boy isn’t leaving.
    He sits down in the chair next to me, crossing his long legs at the ankles. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”
    I peer over at him. “Should I?” Maybe his comment about taking a picture was serious. I try to reconcile his image with everyone I’ve seen on TV recently. Nope, no matches.
    â€œNo.” He grins. Perfect smile 2.0. I have the sudden urge to buy toothpaste. “I was hoping you didn’t. Do you want to go somewhere?”
    I snicker and then realize he’s serious. “Like, with you?”
    â€œNo. All alone. I want this corner for myself.” He rolls his eyes. “Yes, with me.”
    I think for a second about what life must be like for this boy, someone who can sit down next to a total stranger and ask her to go somewhere like she’s a friend. How does he know I won’t tell him to get lost? How does he know I won’t accidentally get him run over by a bus? “Sorry. No can do. Waiting for a ride.”
    The boy runs a hand through his hair. It’s mostly dry now and it sticks up in awkward sandy peaks. “Call your rideand tell them I’ll drive you home.”
    â€œMy mom’s not going to go for me taking off with some strange guy.” Not to mention I would never go for that. Since the accident, I’ve only been in a car by myself or with my mom. And the only reason I can bear it with Mom driving is because for a while I had no choice. I couldn’t exactly drive myself around when I was eleven. Still, my pediatrician had to give me sedatives for several months just to get me near a car without having a major panic attack.
    â€œOkay.” The boy points across the lobby. “There’s an ice-cream shop over there. Come there with me instead. Plenty of people around to keep you safe from this strange guy .”
    I flinch. I walked past that shop on my way into the building. It was packed. Way too many opportunities for people to get hurt. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
    My eyes skim past the boy for another five-second check. Furniture fine. Floor fine. Ceiling fine. A lady and her toddler are making their way down the hallway. The little girl’s sparkly shoes are moving too slow for the rest of her body. Just when I’m positive she’s going to trip, her mom bends down and scoops her up in her arms. They disappear into the ladies’ restroom.
    The boy is talking. Apparently he’s been talking, but I haven’t been paying attention. I generally tune people out when I’m doing my checks.
    â€œAm I hideous to you or something?” he asks.
    Some girls might find him less appealing today, without his hair product and two-hundred-dollar jeans, but I sort of like his dressed-down look. And that smile is growing on me. Definitely not hideous. “No . . . I just don’t know you.”
    The boy hits his forehead with his palm. “That’s why we’re going to get ice cream.”
    â€œI can’t. It’s nothing personal. I don’t really hang out with people.”
    He tilts his head to the side. “What do you hang out with?”
    â€œBooks, mostly.”
    â€œOkay. Well, I know when to give up.” He gestures at my novel. “I’ll leave you two alone together. Same time next week?” He holds his hand up for a fist bump.
    Gingerly, I press my pale knuckles to his overly tanned ones. “Same time next week.”
    He turns and strides across the marble floor of the lobby toward the ice-cream shop, his hair flopping with each step. For some reason, I miss him a little after he’s gone.
    But before I can even finish another