SS(S)S - Can we talk in private?

“Can we talk in private?” you ask, flicking a glance at the second floor. Sal sees where you’re looking.

“Of course,” she replies, leading you into the living room. It’s not exactly private, but it’s out of earshot. You can’t expect her to take you to a bedroom or something when you’ve just walked in off the street.

You sit down on the edge of the sofa and Sal sits beside you, close enough to signal a certain level of friendliness, but not inappropriately close. You can smell the sporty deodorant that she must’ve put on when that other girl told her that she had a visitor.

You don’t look at her. You look at the stereo covered in empty beer bottles and hand over the Macbook without a word. She takes it with a frown. Seconds pass as she starts to realize that it’s hers.

“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble,” you say. One of your knees bounces restlessly and you hunch forward. You are not faking these nerves. Your true feelings are just helping your performance. If you blow this, it doesn’t just blow up in your face, it blows up in Athena’s too. Maybe you should’ve thought of that sooner.

“So this is mine,” Sal says, taking it well. She closes the laptop with a dazed look on her face. “How did you get it?”

You were hoping she’d read between the lines a little better; that would reduce the amount of talking needed of you. She’s not like Athena. Athena is a genius with a godlike IQ. Sal’s just a sorority chick.

“I just said I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble,” you say, sounding almost as though you’re pouting.

OK. She’s got it now: CCL took her laptop and you brought it back.

“Why did you bring me this?” she asks, basically on cue.

You look up at her and meet her eyes, but only for a second. You do the most half-assed, pitiful-looking shrug of your life. “It’s kind of messed up, right? Doing that to somebody?” You point at the computer and go back to looking at the stereo. “Like your whole life is on there. That’s not a prank. I get that we do pranks and stuff. It’s just mean.” Now you make eye contact. She looks troubled. Sal has a conscience.

“Like, I don’t know.” You sigh. “Maybe it’s because I’m a nerd. If I couldn’t find my computer…” You trail off.

You steal a glance at Sal, who looks somewhat moved. When you don’t say anything, she gives you an appraising look.

“You don’t look like a nerd,” she says finally.

Roll your eyes and say: “You can like sports and be a nerd.”

Or

Say nothing.