"Neuroscience, psychology," Ellie told him. The standard line. Everyone knew it by now. Everyone wanted to know about Before. "I wanted to be... A neurosurgeon. Brains."
And then...
O'Brien didn't look at Ellie, and he didn't say very much at all.
What does this mean? She wondered desperately, but as always -- always -- any equation fell flat when you introduced emotion, the bad X. Was it bad, though, really? He was upset, that much was clear. He was upset because he'd liked Leah, or... Loved Leah? Whichever had come to pass. And now someone else liked her, which meant... What?
Ellie didn't get it.
For a moment she simply stood there, still wobbling slightly in her dirty boots. On most days, if this had happened, she would have been content to simply leave him there, or take her seat again and help him color. Maybe that would have been the better choice now, even -- but something in Ellie didn't feel quite satisfied with that, with being told not right now. It was his prerogative, of course. To say something like that. But why be sad?
She knew enough not to ask. It wouldn't help her understand a thing. And everything still wheeled softly to the left, dream-like and good. Her body felt like shiny glass. Maybe wine made a lot of things seem easier than they were.
"Come on," she told him softly. "Do something with me... Please? Dog didn't even feel like... Like walking with me."
Dog had fallen straight asleep after the movie; for all of her exuberant love, she was still her own being. Ellie faltered slightly at the thought. If even an animal knew when to give other people space, why not she? Sometimes it felt silly to want to care for others. Evan had made her feel silly for it, sometimes, without meaning to. O'Brien was making her feel a little silly now too. But feeling anything at all was the point, wasn't it?
"Let's do something. So you can think of... Not this. Right? ...We can throw bad books at... Dead people."