4

Roisin imagined what her mother might say if she knew her daughter had taken a lift off a strange man. In truth, she had been anxious buckling into Spencer's passenger seat. After all, she had only met him twice. Yet here she was, lending him books, letting him drive her around. He could be a serial killer, or something worse. And this was probably a bad idea.

Then he had put his keys into the ignition, and she had seen how his hand shook, and understood that he was just as uncertain about her. She decided that he was probably like her; just a little bit lonely, and trying to reach out. They drove to the store in awkward silence, broken only by the trundling of the old Volvo. When he finally parked outside their destination, she forced a grin.

"Well, thanks for the lift."

"Don't mention it."

Their seatbelts clicked in unison.

"Oh, you're coming in?"

"Yeah, I want to look around, too."

She swung the door open and hopped out. "Well, come on then."

They went their separate ways initially, Roisin lingering by the tellers as she watched Spencer hike up the stairs to the sciences. She had half a mind to follow him, but decided not to act desperate, and sauntered off alone. They ended up meeting up again among the classics, where he eyed her picks scrupulously.

"Expensive books."

She stood, a hardback volume in each hand, and sighed. "They called out to me."

"Haven't you read either of these?"

"Yes. Both."

"Then why do you want -"

"They're pretty."

His eyebrows shot up. "You buy books because they're pretty?"

"Yeah, what else am I going to decorate my shelves with?"

Spencer's disgust was palpable, so much so that she spluttered with laughter.

"You're joking?"

"Yes." She admitted. "I just like to...collect nice editions of my favourite books."

"Oh...good."

Róisín joined Spencer as he perused a bit more, having decided to purchase both books - she did have a voucher, after all. She found his method of selection amusing; first he would draw his finger along a particular shelf, lightly tapping on the spines of those that piqued his interest. Eventually, he would pull one down, fly through the chapter, and give a one-word review.

"Cliché."

"Mundane."

"Intriguing."

"Wrong."

When he finally selected new textbook on quantum theory, he held it to his chest and grinned. "What?"

She turned on her heel. "Nothing."

Finally checked out, she led the way to the car, only to pause at the door. He had never offered to drive her home.

Did she want him to drive her home?

Spencer strode right past her and got into the driver's seat. It took a long while for him to see her and roll down the window.

"I was um… Going to get some coffee."

Again, silence stretched into the void.

"Are you inviting me?"

"Yes?"

"Oh. Sure."