Instead, she pours her attention into pulling out a bunch of shit—pens, papers, notepad, fuckin’ highlighters. Let’s not forget the busted-ass laptop. I focus on her face again, and while she has yet to bring her eyes to mine, the girl’s fully aware mine are locked onto hers. A tinge of color brightens her fair cheeks. Grinning, I sink a little farther in my chair. Chick’s nervous, and rightfully so.
