A man wearing thick black-framed glasses and a name tag walks over. “Hey, guys. I hate to do this, but we’re locking up.” He motions to the front door. “If you’re waiting for a ride, there’s an awning out front that you can hang under.”

“All right. No worries. Thanks.” I open the door and we walk out to the sidewalk.

May wraps her arms around her chest. “Ugh, it’s freezing out here.” She’s shivering in her thin T-shirt. “It’s been so hot, I didn’t even bother to look at the weather.” She seems worn out. Younger. More like she probably used to—approachable, not a ball of simmering rage.

It gives me the courage to close the distance between us and reach out to her like I did when we were back inside.

She flinches. “Excuse me?”

I drop my arm in a hurry. I suck at reading signals. “I’m sorry. I was just going to…Ugh, sorry. I thought maybe if I put my arm around you, we’ll both be warmer till the car gets here?” My voice cracks. I sound like an idiot. What is my problem? Why can’t I act like a normal human being?

“Oh, did you? You thought we’d be warmer?” She sounds a little less annoyed, and I start to relax. “For future reference, you might want to ask before you try to touch me. Or any girl, for that matter.” She cuts me a side-eye. “Before, back in there, when I was upset, that was one thing, but this is another.”

I bite my lip. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t…” I trail off. “I don’t normally try to touch random girls, you know….”

“Now I’m random?”

“No!” Shut up, Zach. “You’re not random at all. You’re the opposite of random. Like, unrandom. Is that a word?”

She shakes her head like she’s trying not to laugh. At least my idiocy is good for something.

I continue. “Anyway, you said you’re cold, and I’m sort of cold, and they say you can huddle together for heat. I’m pretty sure I saw that on the History Channel or something. So that was my train of thought….I didn’t mean to invade your personal space. That’s not cool at all. I’m sorry.”

“You already said that.”

I blush. I hate my fair skin and how red it gets when I blush, like a smashed tomato. “Sorry.” I roll my eyes. “I mean— Sorry. Fuck! Why can’t I stop saying that?”

She’s full-on laughing now. “You’re a mess.”

I shrug. “I haven’t exactly socialized a lot in the past few months. My skills are rusty.”

She laughs again and then shivers hard. “Okay, fine. Whatever. It is super cold. C’mere with that arm.”