“No.” I pause. “There was a girl.”
“Ohh,” he says, drawing it out. Even with my face covered I can tell he’s grinning. He rubs his hands together. “Was she pretty?”
“She was beautiful,” I say, looking away. “I fell because she—I don’t know. She was, like, watching me. . . .”
“Checking you out. Giving you the eye.”
“Shut up.”
“So a beautiful young thing saw you fall and now you’re embarrassed.”
I have no comeback. When he says it like that, it sounds so juvenile, like something from one of those TV shows where humans in too much makeup mope around and make longing faces at each other. But he’s exactly right.
Sandor gives my shoulder a squeeze.
“’Tis but a minor setback, my young ward,” Sandor opines. “I can tell you one thing for certain. You’re not going to impress your lady by moping around here.”
“Who says I want to impress her?”
He laughs. “Come on. Who doesn’t want to impress beautiful women? Right now, in her mind, you’re just a guy that bit off more than he could chew. If you don’t go back, though, you become that wimp she saw fall off the wall one time. Do you want that?”
I don’t even have to think about my answer.
“I’ll go back tomorrow.”
Chapter Ten
I’m up early again the next morning, back in the Lecture Hall, dodging projectiles and batting drones out of the air with my pipe-staff even though my mind is at the Windy City Wall. Sandor doesn’t take it easy on me, despite knowing that I want to be conserving my energy for a second chance at impressing that girl.
“Keep your head in the game!” he shouts at me after a mechanized tentacle trips me up.
After training, I shower thoroughly, even though I’m just getting ready for another workout. I want to look good. I even run a comb through my tangled thatch of hair. Sandor’s been ragging on me to cut it forever, telling me that I look like a girl, and recommending all kinds of hair products that would give me “maximum hold.” I’ve never paid any attention to his unsolicited style tips.
Only looking at myself in the steamy bathroom mirror, I wish I’d listened to him. I look like a caveman. But it’s too late to do anything about my hair now. Besides, I figure showing up with a fresh haircut glistening with pomade—whatever that is—would look pretty desperate.
“Good luck,” says Sandor knowingly as I head to the elevator.
There are butterflies having a heavy artillery firefight in my stomach as I jog over to the rec center. I breeze in the door and immediately beeline for the equipment rack, grabbing a safety vest as I confidently stride toward the advanced end of the wall. I casually scan the room, looking for the girl.
She’s not there. In fact, the place is nearly empty.
Ugh. It’s a school day. I always forget the humans keep much different schedules than I do.
There are a few college-aged kids working out on the wall, getting envious looks from flabby older guys who are probably here on their lunch break. I join them. Might as well get a few practice runs in.
I spend an hour mastering the wall. This time I listen to the instructor, paying special attention to where the best handholds are. By the time the hour is up, I’ve successfully scaled the wall a half-dozen times. According to the instructor, if I shaved a few seconds off my time I’d have a shot at breaking the local record. I don’t tell him that I haven’t been going all out, that with my Loric strength and speed I could easily smash it.
I’m saving that performance for when the girl shows up.
There’s still about an hour left before school gets out. It’d probably look pretty weird if I was already here when the other kids arrive and I decide I want to make an entrance. I imagine confidently strutting into line, ignoring taunts from the Mikes, then flying up the wall in record-setting time. While the Mikes are busy picking their jaws up off the floor, I’ll stride over to the girl, her adoring smile inviting me to talk to her. And then . . .
Well, I haven’t totally planned out the talking part yet.
I buy a bottle of water from a vending machine and head outside. There’s a small park across the street from the rec center, where I make myself at home on a bench—the perfect spot for a stakeout. I’m comfortable in the cool air and have a good view of the Windy City Wall entrance. I’ll hide out until kids get out of school and then it’ll be time for my redemption.
The thought of a stakeout causes me to make a check of my iMog. An evil red dot appearing nearby is exactly what I don’t need right now. Luckily, the coast is clear.
I spend the next hour trying to think of a good opening line. All the guys in the movies and on TV have them when they approach a girl. I should’ve asked Sandor for one before I left. He probably has whole books filled with pick-up lines.
By the time I see the two Mikes enter the Windy City Wall, I still haven’t come up with anything good. I’m stuck on climbing puns, but they all come off pretty gross, like I want to climb on her.
“Is this seat taken?” A girl’s voice interrupts the conversation I’m having in my head. Distractedly, I wave at the empty space of bench next to me.
The next wall I’d like to climb is the one around your heart. How’s that? Really, really cheesy.
“Hi,” the girl says, sitting down next to me.
And that’s when I realize it isn’t just any girl sitting inches away from me on the bench, it’s the girl. Her cheeks are rosy in the late spring air, her black hair gently blown in the breeze. She’s smiling at me. She’s so beautiful, I suddenly feel like I could throw up. This wasn’t the plan.
“I’m Maddy,” she says, extending her hand.