Free Scenes From the City: A Knitting in the City Wintertime Surprise by Penny Reid Page B

flirting with. But, in reality, he was likely just making sociable—albeit odd—conversation.
    “We have twenty minutes before we have to be there.” She paused just long enough to give him a kiss then wipe away the lipstick with her thumb, then she turned to me and gave me a wave, “Hi, I’m Vanessa.”
    I returned her wave and friendly politeness with a sincere smile. “Hi, I’m Fiona. I live on that side.” I pointed down the hall.
    “Did you just move in?”
    Greg answered before I could, “No. She’s a xenophobic hermit who writes chauvinistic manifestos.”
    Vanessa shook her head, her smile growing confused, and she hit him on the shoulder. “You’re weird.”
    My gaze flickered to Greg’s, and I found him watching me with some inscrutable expression. I ignored it, pushed it from my mind, chalked the current of electricity I’d felt up to my seldom-used imagination and likely one-sided attraction.
    Fern was right. I needed to actually interact with people more; observation was only so helpful. I needed to get out there and live.
    “Well, I have to get back to studying.” I said this to Vanessa, giving her another wave. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
    “It was nice to meet you.” She returned the wave then fit her hand in Greg’s.
    I turned without meeting his eyes and crossed my arms as I shuffled down the hall, greeting two girls I’d met earlier during Fern’s grand tour . I ignored the lingering tightness in my chest and heated flush of my skin.
    ***
    That night I slept in Fern’s spare bed as Dara and Hivan were still going at it, obviously having made up at some point.
    I felt an odd sense of happiness and peace.
    When I hit eighteen the summer before college, I began to suspect there was something wrong with me. The last time I’d felt anything resembling a crush or interest in a boy had been during the fifth grade, before I’d been pulled out of school for a regimen of gymnastics and private tutors.
    Then, when I was diagnosed with cancer at fourteen, crushes and boys and the future ceased to hold meaning or feel real. By the time I was in recovery, academics held all of my focus. I was determined to leave my parents’ house.
    Even so, during the course of my entire life, I’d never been aware or had an inkling that someone was attracted to me.
    I thought of Sasquatch and his blatant leering. Even though he was an obvious player, it cheered me; his antics made me laugh lightly into my pillow.
    Since I’d gone into remission, I’d often wondered if I was ugly. I would stop in front of mirrors and survey my face, shape, and general appearance.
    I decided that I wasn’t ugly.
    I had big brown eyes with long, thick lashes. I had a nice, normal nose. I had a nice mouth full of straight white teeth and framed by perfectly adequate lips. My face was oval and my skin free of blemishes. My dark brown hair was acceptable, still short due to the years of radiation.
    No. I wasn’t ugly.
    Nor was I an ugly person. I was a nice person. And I was smart. I was normal.
    My thoughts turned to Greg and Vanessa, how lovely they looked together, how right and beautiful, and I felt a surge of happiness and hope. The momentary interest and attraction I’d felt for Greg was a good thing, something I should treasure as proof that I was alive and my heart still beat and air still filled my lungs.
    Haughty and handsome Greg may have been meant for the stunning and friendly Vanessa.
    However, given the fact that my heart still beat and air still filled my lungs, surely there was someone out there for me. Now I just needed to stop watching people and actually talk to them.

Part 2: Knock, knock…NINJA!
    “No, it’s a matter of decency.”
    “And who decides what is decent?”
    I slowed my steps as I approached the dorm kitchen, especially when I thought I recognized the second speaker’s voice. Without realizing what I was doing, I stopped and waited for the conversation to continue. I didn’t