Free Seduced by Lies by Stacey Quinn

despite his gut instinct to do as she said, he dived in head first.
    “Look, I...I wanna say sorry, for yesterday, in the library you know? I didn’t...well I may have seemed like...like a...”
    “Like a bit of a twat?” She finished for him flatly.
    “Well, yeah.” He chuckled, loving the way her well spoken voice pronounced the word ‘twat’, even when it was being used to insult him.
    “Anyway...” He powered on. “I know I probably didn’t make such a good impression...” This evoked a derisive snort, masked in another puff of smoke from the direction of the bin, “but I...well...I know you’re new here and...I’d just...like to get to know you.” He threw in an abashed, hopeful half-smile at the end.
    “You’d like to get to know me?” The enigma repeated each word slowly, disbelieving and questioning.
    “Yeah. I really would.” Sam shrugged his shoulders, trying to retain at least a little bit of cool.
    “That’s the worst God damn line I’ve ever heard.” She snapped, turning her face away sharply, instantly back to her cold and distant persona.
    “It’s not a line!” He insisted desperately. “I really do want to know you, really!”
    “Tell me why.” She demanded emotionlessly, flicking ash nonchalantly to the gravel below.
    “You...you intrigue me.” Sam offered.
    “That’s not a reason, that’s another line. Next.”
    “You...err...You’re obviously intelligent!” He blurted quickly, sure he was on to a winner. “I think we’d have a lot of the same interests and tastes, you know - likes and dislikes.” He practically beamed.
    “I doubt that very much.” She scoffed, looking pointedly up and down at his clothes, style and appearance, while still taking noticeable care to avoid making eye contact with him.
    “You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.” Sam mumbled, still determined but feeling slightly downhearted none the less.
                  “Well, with a cover as gaudy and garish as yours, it’s difficult not to.” She retorted, a satisfied glint in her eye and a superior look on her face, as if she were actually beginning to ever so slightly enjoy this back-and-forth banter.
    “What about Stephen King? Come on - you’ve got to admit that shows some level of taste.” He raised one eyebrow cheekily, in an attempt to break the ice even further, and could have sworn he saw the girls eyes dart away, panicked and hasty as his gaze rose to meet hers.  
                  “That was a lucky guess based on common knowledge.” She explained loftily to her gently swinging feet, refusing to look away from the dull shine of her boots. “Everyone in the English speaking language knows that Stephen King is a literary genius - simply pointing that out does not mean that you have taste or intellect.” Her tone left a slight challenging note humming in the air between them, as if she were impelling him - daring him to try and prove her wrong.
    “Fine.” Sam squared his shoulders and took a deep breath, ready for the sweet victory he was sure he was about to claim.
    “Tolstoy, Tolkien, Dahl, Carroll, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Baudelaire. Need I continue?” He had to restrain himself from puffing out his chest with boastful pride. The girl took a little while to answer, picking the dirt disinterestedly from under her fingernails as she constructed her response in her head. Sam waited tensely for her answer, each second seeming to drag longer than the last as he wondered - could this be the moment we connect?
                  “They are all fine literary artists and masters of the English language, of that there is no doubt.” She admitted, sending Sam’s heart soaring, only to make it stop and stutter as she added a pointed and ominous sounding - “But...” pausing again to inhale one final lung full of THC from the stump of a joint now left between her fingers. “Again, they are all subjects of common knowledge. The ability to recite