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WIP Wednesday...
If a love affair (mixed with low-level fraud) could start with a joke, Neil guessed it would be theirs. There had been deepening feelings as he helped Corinne at her home, but they were both pretending it was a silly, simple crush. Like falling in love with the girl a year ahead who sat a few tables down in the cafeteria. They’d gone to the cheap little Mexican place down the street, sweating on the patio, both for atmosphere and because Corrine’s chair barely fits through the door of the taqueria.
It’s only starting to get hot --nothing like the mini-hell that might sweep in for the next four to six months, only enlivened by rain and dust-storms that might cause lengthy power outages and lightning strikes, but it was a little uncomfortable to sit outside when they were out of the shade, even if Neil hadn’t overdressed, like some kind of moron, Like it was less crushing to be heartbroken by a man in a tie. Not even a cool tie, either, but a red one with a stripe, like some kind of reactionary mini-candidate…what had he been thinking? Maybe that’s why he let the day go on too long.
The paper flowers on the tables made it seem like a little foreign country, one that maybe they belonged in. (Even in the twin glows of romantic wrongness and the endorphin rush of that first make out session, Neil wondered if there could really be such a place. If there were, could they ever live in it?) Rather than think about that, though, he proved he was his mother’s son and made sure she was fed--cliches being formed from little specks of truth.
They ordered margaritas and filled up on chips, which derailed the Serious Talk and pitch for her to offer some care-hours to his friend Violet. Vi was a good sort, even when her hair actually matched her name, which wasn’t as precious as she thought it was. It made him sad how often Violet aimed for “adorable” without hitting it. He needed the money, but preferred to keep the drama contained in class. He was thinking about Corrine all the time, as if she were married, rather