“Okay, cool. Want to help me lock him down for Saturday?” “Oh no.” Max laughs, shaking his head. “Nope. That’s all on you.” I blow out a hard breath, but nod. Fair enough. “Thanks, Max.” “Sure.” He smiles, powering down the machine and hopping off. “I…don’t give up on him if he gives you the runaround, okay? Marcos doesn’t do anything fast. Don’t move on before he’s had time to get his head in the game, all right?” “All right,” I agree. I feel like I’ve been pretty direct in my pursuit of him at the end of last semester and over the summer, but perhaps when Max says Marcos takes things slow,
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