We’re walking back from lunch, still discussing possible applications of the work we’re doing and one-upping into more and more speculative stuff.
Charles says, “Oh come on, that couldn’t work. Way too many reflections.”
“Not on a spaceship.”
“You’re doing a sci-fi movie!”
“You could make a pretty decent movie that way.”
“I guess you could. Speaking of, you interested in grabbing a movie some time?”
I look at him. “Is that a date?”
He looks back. “It could be.”
Damn. “That pirate suit on Sunday…”
“That was a date?”
“That was a date.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know.”
I thought about asking you out a few times before I got swapped here. Never did; you didn’t seem interested at all. And now… Now you’re no Lena.
But I just tell him, “Hey, I didn’t tell you before. Glad to see you’re not telepathic.”
That gets a smile. “Guess not. It would help a lot if I was.”
“It’d also be pretty creepy for everybody else.”
“True. Guess it wouldn’t work if I told everyone I’d only use my powers responsibly?”
Sure. “ ‘Trust me, I have blue eyes?’ ”
“Not a chance.”
“Aww, man. So, that date…”
That date shows how different everything has become. “Is a girl.”
“Sorry. I’m being nosy.”
Oh. He wants to know whether he guessed right. “It’s OK. If I’m honest, I have looked at you.”
For a meaning of I you’ll never know.
He grins. “Huh. Both sides, eh? Lucky bastard.”
Heh. I doubt you’d agree with yourself, if you knew the whole story.
But would I agree with him?