Mixed Signals Lead To Desperate Measures

“They’ve been out of the bathroom ten minutes.” Jameson said, “I wonder what’s going on. It couldn’t have been good. She won’t even look at me.”

“She probably just came to her senses,” Paul chided.

Jameson was confounded to say the least. He could normally read girls fairly well, but Becca was completely off his map.

He caught her smiling at him a few times, but it was as if the moment he noticed she transformed and suddenly hated him with the passion of a thousand jilted lovers.

At one point he could swear she waved at him, but when he waved back and started to walk over she gave him an icy glare. He tried to get her attention a couple times, but to no avail.

“Screw this!” he said, grabbing a bottle of Tequila. “I’ll show her I can have fun!

“Jameson, put the bottle down, bro.” Paul said, “I don’t like that look in your eyes. Besides, you’re a lightweight.”

“I bet I can drink you under the table, numb-nuts.”

“Put your money where your mouth is, holmes?”

“A hundred dollars.”

“You’re on.”

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