“Hi, Clare!” I say in my most friendly, warm manner, and perch on the corner of her desk.
“Everything okay?”
“Um... yes.” Her eyes are wide and wary. “I just wondered if you'd like me to get you a coffee?”
“You?” She stares as though suspecting a trick. “Get me a coffee?”
“Yes! Why not?” I beam, and she flinches. “It's...it's okay.”
She slides out of her chair, her eyes fixed on me as though she thinks I really am a cobra.
“I'll get one.” “Wait!” I say almost desperately. “You know, Clare, I'd like to get to know you better. Maybe one day we could have lunch together... hang out... go shopping...” Clare looks even more pole-?axed than before.
“Um...yeah. Okay, Olivia,” she mumbles, and scuttles down the corridor. I turn to see Byron still in the doorway, cracking up.
“What?” I sna
