She felt her hand enveloped in his and immediately yanked it back, glaring up at him. “Let’s get one thing straight, big boy,” she said as sternly as she could get her voice to work, “no touching.” She expected that this would turn him off and she would be free. “Okay,” he said. Okay? He held the door for her as they reached the near-by coffee shop. Though they had only walked a short distance, her tank was sticking to her and she could feel her hair frizzing from the humidity. They ordered their drinks and chose a table under a fan. He seemed to sense her reluctance to share, so he told stories about growing up in Charlotte and setting up play-wrestling matches with his three brothers. He was the youngest and had several nieces and nephews, which he showed her pictures of from his cell phone. “Did you grow up here?” he asked. She felt uncomfortable with the attention being back on her. She didn’t socialize much and she had always hated being the center of attention.
