Chapter 9

“Would you like to be partners?”

Kat turned at the sound of the male voice. Clark Kent.

“If you don’t have one,” he continued.

“Yes.” She caught a look of defensive self-preservation cross his face, a mix of anger and disappointment to blunt the blow of rejection.

“No. I mean yes, I don’t have a one,” she said. “Sure, we can be partners.”

He nodded. “Do you want to be for or against?” he asked.

“I’ll be against,” Kat said.

“Fine,” he said, but his brow furrowed.

“If you want to be against, that’s okay,” she said quickly.

“No, it’s okay. You didn’t ask me my name,” he said. “I do have one.”

“I hope so,” she said. “You are entitled to one.”

The brow smoothed and he smiled. His boy-next-door face reminded Kat of home at this time of year; a vision of evening concerts, the Harvest Festival, and the last Farmer’s Markets before the coming of the winter.

“I’m Mark.”

“Hi, Mark. I’m — ”

“Katerina. Yes, I know.”

A slight shiver of anxiety rippled through her. “How do you know?”

“Professor James calls on you every week. And I pay attention.”

They stood in an awkward silence for a moment. “I think Starbucks would be a good place to meet,” he said. “We could have a bite to eat and debate the problem.”

“I think a library study room would be a better place,” Katerina said, gathering her books and moving toward the stairs to get to the exit. It was a sweet ploy to get her to eat with him. It had been a while since she had a guy try that hard.

“Food is important. We need to keep up our strength.”

“I’ll bring granola bars.”

Mark nodded his head as he kept time with her on the stairs. “Great. But it’s extremely dangerous to eat without something to drink.”

Katerina stopped short to stare at him.

“Choking hazard,” he said. “You’re not allowed to bring drinks into the library. I mean, people do, all the time, but they shouldn’t and if we get caught, then you’re gonna have to give up your water bottle and then you could choke.”

Katerina pushed down her smile. She had known someone like Mark back home. She still thought of him sometimes, wondering where he was, and if she had made a mistake letting him go.

“You can give me the Heimlich maneuver,” she said, deciding to push a bit further.

“Then, the piece of granola bar will fly out of your mouth and hit the librarian in the eye. Someone will catch it on their phone, it’ll go viral, and you’ll be all over the Internet.”

“Okay,” she said. “Starbucks it is.”

He stood before her, clearly pleased with his rally to win a meeting that involved a meal. “Great, so I’ll call you.”

“Sure.”

“I need your number.”

“Right,” Kat said, rattling off her cell number.

He punched it into his phone. “Okay, great . . . I’ll call you and we’ll get together . . . at Starbucks.”

“Sounds good. Goodnight, Mark,” she said.

“Right. Goodnight, Katerina.”

They went their separate ways; she glanced back over her shoulder to see him striding away with a slight swagger. Katerina turned back. He’s a nice boy, she thought. Remember when you used to date nice boys, Katerina?