It was as if he and Sybil were of the same mind. She could almost finish his sentences. She knew the ins, outs, cheats and strategies of more games than he could imagine. Dorian was in love.
“Do you find that people don't take you seriously because of your looks?” Sybil asked.
“Huh?” Sybil's question caught Dorian off guard. He wanted desperately to get to a mirror to see what was wrong.
“I mean good-looking people like you. Do they sometimes brush you off as just a pretty face?”
Dorian was stumped. He hadn't had a pretty face long enough to find out. “I, uh, well, hadn't given it much thought.” He smiled and looked deep into her eyes. “You must get it all the time.”
“Like, oh m' God. Buffy, what a totally rad nail job!” Sybil lapsed into fluent Valley-speak then rolled her eyes. “They treat me like I was head cheerleader or something.” She shook her head and gestured. “I have a mind you know. Up here, pal.”
Guiltily, Dorian moved his gaze from her chest to her face.
“That's what I'd like to say to them,” Sybil sighed.
Her rant was over as quickly as it started. With no small relief, Dorian realized her last comment was not directed specifically at him. What do I do next? He struggled, fighting the urge to hyperventilate. “Some people are so shallow,” he agreed. “I'm working on a companion to ‘Accordion Wizards.’ Perhaps you'd like to come to my place and see it?” No! Too fast!
“That would be great.” Sybil glanced at her watch. “Ooh, but not tonight. I promised my grandmother I'd take her to Bingo.”
“I understand.” Bingo. How lame. At least be original if you're going to brush me off.
Sybil leaned forward. “What about tomorrow? We could catch dinner. Make a night of it.”
Shocked by her response, Dorian blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. “Great. I could cook you dinner.”
“Wow! You cook?”
And I do brain surgery while standing on my head. “Sure.” Dorian verbally sealed his fate.
“I can't wait!”
Copyright © 2020 by JohnW. Warnock