Shredded
“Probably me, since she’s already turned around and walked deeper into her room while I’m still standing in the hall with my hands in my pockets and my mouth wide open. Talk about a total loser.There’s a part of my brain that’s telling me to walk away, that any girl who makes this kind of 180-degree turn obviously has issues I am not equipped to deal with. And yet, even as I’m telling myself to get the hell out of here, I take a step into her small studio apartment. Then another and another, until I’m standing in the center of the room. Which is only about five feet from the main door, but still.“So what do you want to drink?” she asks. “I’ve got Dr Pepper, hot chocolate, coffee, and water.”I glance around, take in the single bed that doubles as a couch, the small bookshelf loaded with books, the tiny kitchenette. There’s not much else to see. No photos. No posters. Nothing but a few books to give me a clue about who Ophelia really is.“I’ll take a Dr Pepper.”“Good choice.”
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