The Smartest Girl in the Room by Deborah Nam-Krane Page B

about what happened
last night," Zainab said as she ate the pasta and broccoli Emily
made for dinner.
    "We talked, we ate bread and cheese, we
talked, we got mochas, we talked, we got cannoli and espressos, we
talked, we fell asleep on a bench. You know- your typical Friday
night out."
    "That sounds kind of romantic."
    "Everything but the caffeine."
    "And...?"
    "And nothing. That’s it. Then we stumbled
back to the Pru and found out you were sleeping on your wall."
    "Anyway! Now what?"
    Emily looked down at the table. "How would
you like to go to Drew’s party with us next Friday?"
    "Drew’s having a party?"
    "Well, he invited me to a party. His Solar
Car friends or whatever are throwing it."
    "So which of them are you trying to make
jealous?"
    "Neither! But maybe it wouldn’t be a bad way
for Drew to get the hint that I’m not interested."
    "Or you could just not go to his party and do
something else with Mitch."
    "I think I want to be around people."
    "People who are going to be talking about
engineering?"
    "Sounds like they like to drink as much as
everyone else. Does that sound better?"
    Zainab frowned. "Since I’m such a lush, sign
me up! And you know who else loves free beer? Joe. I bet he’d love
to come."
    "Oh, come on!"
    "You want me to wingman at this thing, that’s
my price."
    Emily groaned. "What do you see in him
again?"
    "He’s... funny."
    "So am I."
    "He’s smart."
    "No, he’s not."
    "Sorry, we mere mortals are easily impressed.
And he’s cute."
    She didn’t see it…at all. "Is it the hair?
The eyes?"
    Zainab shook her head. "No, it’s the smile.
Especially when he talks to me."
    Emily was going to say something when the
image of Joe trying to work that crowd popped into her head. "Okay,
bring him. Please." No matter what else happened, that was going to
be worth watching.
     

CHAPTER 7
     
    Mitch had wanted to call Emily every day
after Saturday. He thought about her smiling, pretty, exhausted
face, laughing at his bad jokes. He thought he should have kissed
her. He thought about taking her somewhere where they could be
alone. He thought about spending every minute he could with her
until he had to leave. And then he thought about leaving. The more
he thought about it, the more he dreaded it. What if she didn’t
want him to go? What if he didn’t want to go? What if she didn’t
care if he went? What if this was all a big mistake on his part? He
should do the calm, rational thing and tell her that he had to go
before anything started. But hadn’t something already started?
    He walked into the conference room on the
third floor of Ayers Hall at five-thirty on Thursday night. The
director looked at his watch five minutes later. "Let’s get
started. Thank you all for coming out tonight. Hopefully we’ll be
able to use this time to clear up any last minute questions. And
then I hope you’ll be able to join us for dinner. As you may
know-"
    He was interrupted when the door swung open.
A tall, thin young woman with wavy reddish brown hair stood in the
doorway. "Sorry I’m late," she said breathlessly. "The trains were
running a little bit behind."
    "Quite all right, Ms. Allen," the director
said, although there was a tone of annoyance in his voice. "Please
have a seat."
    The director resumed his introduction, and
the young woman found a seat next to Mitch in the back. "Did I miss
anything?" she whispered as she took off her coat.
    "No, not really. He just started."
    "Good! I’m Kyra Allen, by the way."
    "Mitch Graham."
    The director’s talk lasted for about thirty
minutes and then five or six of the participants had enough
questions to last another half hour.
    People stood up at seven and Kyra walked over
to some other women. Mitch lingered at the table with the brochures
on his way to the exit.
    "Anything good?" someone asked cheerfully.
Mitch looked up from the table and recognized Martin Shepard from
last quarter's Politics in Eastern Europe.
    "Hey! I didn't know you were on