Amabile by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Amabile

Page 109

He told himself he was early because he wanted a good seat. Or because today’s lecture on comparative anatomy actually sounded interesting. Or because he needed time to review the chapter he’d skimmed last night. All technically true. All technically lies.

The real reason was Zoe.

Zoe, who sat two rows over and one seat up. Zoe, who always seemed to smile at him a half second longer than necessary. Zoe, who asked him questions in a tone that suggested she already knew the answer but wanted to hear him say it anyway. Zoe, who might; might have a crush on him.

He wasn’t sure. Morey was many things; teleporter, wanderer, fox from a planet with its own strange rules; but deciphering social cues was not one of his strengths.

He slipped into the classroom and chose a seat near the middle, not too eager, not too aloof. He opened his notebook to a blank page and pretended to study it intensely. His ears kept swiveling toward the door.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

Footsteps approached; light, quick, familiar.