trust me

I had my arms folded and was standing against the wall when she approached, clinging onto her bottle with two hands--like it was liable to escape, or perhaps like it was the only thing keeping her from escaping. Maybe it was both. But she was smiling easily, and she said hi even though I was clearly distancing myself from everyone, and I said hello and relaxed my arms.

She asked if I liked her shoes and I said, more or less honestly, that they were very nice. They were bright green and looked new, and she was modeling them for me, very briefly, still clutching her drink protectively. There was a wary look in her eye, too. I wasn't sure of it until she said, "I don't trust you."

I said, "You probably shouldn't," and she smiled.

"Do you know why I don't trust you?" she said. It was a game.

"You don't have any reason to."

"That's not it." She smiled again. "But you're cute. I'll let you take me home with you tonight."

I had little interest in doing so, and yet--"I was just going to watch movies when I got home tonight. You are welcome to come if you like."

"Okay. But we have to say good bye to everyone first. And we'll need to tell people each other's names."

We exchanged names--mine was real, but I have the feeling hers was made up--and she took my hand and we went around chatting with people like a couple. Then we left and went home and watched a movie or two and didn't watch a lot more, and eventually, lying half-asleep on the floor, she whispered, "I still don't trust you."

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