"Well, she's not that cute. I mean she is, they don't let you on TV if you're not cute, I just don't get that excited about blondes," Jim said. It was one of the things that he liked about talking to Juno, that she didn't get particularly hung up on his vocation, allowing for dark jokes or odd twists of conversation. Or just acknowledging that some people were cute, which was fine with him.
When she came closer to move his hands, though, it did startle him enough that he didn't really hear the first half of her instructions. It wasn't like nobody ever touched him; the retreat centre where he lived with his community was frequented by plenty of affectionate old hippies and New Agey yoga teachers, and there was a lot of earnest, platonic hugging. At Zenith this sort of close, casual touch was a lot rarer, though, and sometimes he had vague, formless feelings about it.
But he got his attention back on track enough to see what she meant with the cutting technique. "What, that's how—why am I just learning this now, my whole life has been a lie," he said with a laugh. "Yeah, we totally should have a slumber party, you're right. We'll make a blanket fort and I'll tell you about the Loudun possessions, that one's epic. Whole convent full of nuns possessed, devil-worshipping priest, hysterical pregnancy, the exorcist had a breakdown and attempted suicide. The whole thing is bonkers."