Outside the Lines(23)

And I should clarify—it’s only off putting because that sex wasn’t with me.

“So you drove all the way out here to give me my wallet?” I open the front door and step in, mentally yelling and thanking myself for not locking the front door. I turn off the Lightsaber and toss it aside, and then flick on the porch light. Ser Pounce winds around my ankles, trying to make a sneaky escape. I push him back with my foot.

“It wasn’t a far drive.”

“Wait, how did you know where I lived?”

“Your license has your address,” he says and gives me my wallet. Our fingers touch as I grab it from him.

“Right, right. I just changed it too, like a month ago. I haven’t lived here that long and put off changing it because, well, who likes the DMV?”

He laughs and meets my eyes. “I don’t think anyone does.”

“Thanks,” I say. “Really. I’d be screwed in the morning without it. My car is on E.” I swallow. I should invite him in, right? Will that give the wrong implication? Do I care if it does, is probably the better question. I stare at him, suddenly terrified, as if he’s a vampire and by inviting him in, I’m giving him some sort of power over me.

Maybe I should wait for our date Friday. I’ll be prepared, dressed up, and maybe a little drunk.

Mosquitoes swarm around my door already, and when a moth swoops in, I know I have to close it or bust out the leftover tulle material from my fabric bin and make a net to sleep under.

“Want to come in?” I ask.

Ben is still looking at me. He hesitates, then smiles. “Sure.” He steps in and I close the door behind him. “You look like you’re ready for bed. Sorry if I woke you.”

“I was still up. Just playing games.” I step out of my little foyer and toss my wallet onto the recliner chair in the living room. Silence comes between us and I regret asking him to come inside. I have no idea what should happen next. What would happen in a book or movie?

We could hook up, have passionate semi-one-night-standish sex then go out Friday? Yeah, don’t think so. Sleeping with Ben tonight would make our first date not really a first, and then, shit. I don’t know.

I need to get better at this thing called being social.

“What game were you playing?” he asks, eyeing the PlayStation.

“The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt,” I say and try with every fiber of my being not to fear the Gamer Girl stereotypes. I fucking hate them. The whole Nerd Girl stereotype pisses me the fuck off, to be honest. I’d been quizzed more than once on my “knowledge” at a convention, and I only resisted punching the misogynistic asshat in the face to avoid being kicked out.

“I haven’t played that one yet,” Ben says. “But I want to. I haven’t—is that a Nintendo 64?” His eyes go wide.

“Yeah, saved from my childhood.”

“I haven’t played one of those in years. It still works?”

I nod. “It does. I have all the controllers and games from it too. Mario Kart on the 64 is still my favorite.”

Ben looks back at me with a smile. “Can we play?” He blinks quickly, as if he’s embarrassed for asking. “I mean, if you have to go to bed, I understand. Sometimes I forget most people get up early and have set hours since I don’t.”

My heart is about ready to jump out of my chest. “Yeah, we can play a few rounds.” I know I’m tired and need sleep, but a few rounds won’t hurt anything. “And I’m jealous of your lack of hours.”

He takes off his shoes. “It’s nice.”

I get out the game and two controllers, handing one to Ben. I let him chose his character first, watching intently like it’s an online personality test. It won’t tell you anything worthwhile, but it’s so important nonetheless.

He chooses Mario.

Safe move. You can’t go wrong with Mario. I’m Toad, and we start the first Grand Prix race.

I win. Ben gets third. Not too shabby for not having played in years. A small part of me wonders if I should let him win the next race, since he’s in second the entire third lap. I can’t do it. I’m too competitive when it comes to games. Is that a flaw?

We end up placing first and second when races are over. The little celebration comes up on the screen. I watch it like I care, a little nervous to look at Ben. I want him to stay and play another round, but at the same time I’m so fucking tired from staying up so late.

“Well,” he says and set the controller on the coffee table. “I should get some sleep. I’m a guest speaker at an art class early tomorrow.” He stands and offers me a hand to help me off the couch. “And by early, I mean ten AM.”