Re: quicklog: connie and cris awkward blind date
[She was gonna cry. Cris could see it. Maybe it was having been around kids, having his own, or maybe even being 'round Sam, pregnant and hormonal, lately, but it was like a sixth sensea his, huh?—sensing those tears. He could see it building, from the rimsa her eyes, where lashes came in dark, to a sudden drawa color to the tippa her nose, and he tried to fix it. He tried, but it wasn't enough.
He knew she musta felt stupid, misled or, worse, like this was something on purpose, to make funna her.—If seconds went sappy, strung-out and heavy, Cris wasn't aware. He felt that purging pulla gravity, brief, but it was so minute, so small, and he was so focused on Connie, he didn't even notice.—She turned to him, and... he was wrong, huh? She looked like she'd already cried, but she looked angry, not heartbroken.
The guy was thrown for a loop for a second, 'cause he'd already been moving on a different track. Her laugh, forced, didn't unnerve him. Mostly, he thought she was covering, using anger 'cause it was easier and didn't he know a lot about that.] She didn't mean it like that—[Course he tried to defend Sam. He knew she hadn't mean to make nobody cry. She was just a lil oblivious and she was real bad at machinating.] She prolly was just tryin' to give us... I dunno, time to be friends or somethin'. [The gringa's intentions were good, he was surea it.] She'd never do somethin' on purpose to hurt you or anybody, huh? She's not like that. [He tried a smile, half-hearted and appealing. He took a small step toward her.] Least kick my ass in one game? I know I ain't the guy you wanted to show, but I promise I'm not a half-bad date. Yeah?