Chapter 1, Part 5 "Javier" Wednesday, May 25, 2033
"It's not as hot today as it has been the last couple days. Do you have to go home right now, Javier?" Sam asks me, beginning our conversation as she always does. I turn down the music in my ears from my wireless earbuds. It's not that I never begin a conversation. It's just that I usually have nothing to say when I'm with people, other than respond to their questions. I watch. I think. I don't usually initiate verbal discourse. It's a me thing.
"No," I respond as I look around at the same street scene Sam and I have walked through twice the past couple afternoons.
Sam stops walking and looks up at me. I stop and turn to look at her. I don't look away. I'm used to her now. She likes looking into my eyes, and I've learned she likes it when I return her gaze. I know what she's waiting for, and I appreciate how patient she is. Most people aren't. I can feel the corners of my mouth beginning to form a smile.
"No ... I don't have any plans right now." She likes it when I elaborate. She says it shows that I care about what someone said. Okay. I guess. I've always thought the accurate and concise transfer of information was more important. But that's another me thing.
Still looking into my eyes, she doesn't respond. I think back over the past two days. What else is she waiting for with regard to improving my social skills? Now I remember. "Sam," I finally say. People enjoy hearing their names. Using someone's name, sometimes repeatedly, in a conversation, is very endearing, especially with someone you care about. I get that now that I've practiced it a bit.
"Are you hungry?" Sam asks.
"Are you?"
"I could eat something," Sam responds.
The same hot dog vendor from the past two days is on the corner again. I don't want a hot dog. I want ice cream. I can eat ice cream anytime, even if I'm not hungry. "Let's get some ice cream."
Still looking up into my eyes, Sam smiles, not because she likes ice cream, which I'm sure she does. Who doesn't? She's smiling because she's pleased that I made a suggestion. I'm pleased as well. I'm leading instead of following. I really like her smile.
Sam and I stroll along the busy street in blissful silence, much like we did yesterday and Monday, savoring the sights, sounds, and smells of all the afternoon activity. As my hand holds Sam's, my thoughts drift to Maxime. For a moment, I pretend Sam's hand is Maxime's hand. Then I wonder why that thought would run through my mind. He'll probably be swimming in my pool when I get home later. I know him well, better than he realizes, I'm sure. He has a secret. That secret is most likely why he spends more time with computers than with people.