He chased her down the hall and grabbed her by the sleeve, but she said she was sorry, she was late, and pulled her arm away. “I’ll have to get back to you,” she said. She’d have to get back to him? Jennifer? Since when did Jennifer talk like that? That night, at home, he checked his buddy list and Jennifer’s screen name was lit up, so he instant-messaged her, very polite, no “wuz up” kind of trashy jive mooch. “Can we get together and talk?” he wrote. But all three times, her screen name suddenly disappeared and he got an auto-reply: “Jennifer is away from her computer.” Right. Every time Adam had tried to get Jennifer’s attention these last few days, it seemed like she looked the other way or hurried off in the opposite direction or started talking to someone else. Adam was no idiot. She must be upset about something, but what in the world could it possibly be? Certainly nothing to do with him. He had racked his brain. He’d squeezed his mind until his brain juices were practically leaking out, and he had to give himself credit; he could not think of one single thing he’d done wrong lately.
