Oblivious

One time my friend met a boy at a club and they exchanged phone numbers. It was a Friday night so she had excused herself from study in exchange for debauchery and drinking, dancing and drugs – a ritual. That night, they exchanged small pieces of themselves with each other – they gave movement for unison, touch for kisses, breaths for flirtation and the exchange was not yet over. Two days later, he sends her a message inviting her out. In exchange, she asks him to join her at a café while she studies. He says, “Great, you can help me study for anatomy class.” She arrives at the café wearing a hooded sweater and her hair tied back, books and laptop and highlighters in hand. He arrives wearing his tight leather jacket and boot cut jeans, hair slicked back and hands completely empty.