Chapter 8
Once the service club meeting ended, I just wanted to escape. Marie embraced friends she didn’t greet on arrival and told them how cute they looked in their outfits.
I stood awkwardly in a corner while Kat slouched on her chair. Her striped tights and shorts and pom-pom hat resembled Waldo.
Lincoln touched my upper arm.“So, when’s your next meeting?”
I jumped at his presence. “Oh, I don’t know.”
“I want to attend, if that’s okay.”
Great, he wanted to come and babysit our meeting. He was worried that this whole thing would bust without his careful tutelage.
“Because technically, I’m supposed to be in a group and…” He sort of drifted.
“And you saw that ours was in desperate need of help,” I finished for him with a slight huff of a defeated smile. He might as well say he didn’t think I could pull this off. My defenses were up.
“No, I thought yours was the best idea.”
I guffawed. The best idea? Was he joking?
He seemed serious. His jaw muscle flexed a little bit as he studied me. I hated it when guys did incredibly attractive things unconsciously. Or maybe he knew he was hot, and the action was just practiced into his subconscious. Either way, being wildly attractive was an evil trick. I melted.
“I, uh,” I stammered.
“Text me when you have your next planning meeting,” he said. “You still have my number, right?”
I nodded. I’d have to pull it out of the trash, but I still had it.
He nodded a goodbye.
I stumbled backwards into my roommates. I promised myself that I would follow The Book and not call. The rule applied to texting as well. Although not quite as intrusive as a phone call, making the first move was supposed to be his. However, this was business, after all. I should have the right to call for business. Especially when he specifically asked me to let him know.
I expressed my conflicted emotions in a special roommate meeting later that night. “Do I text or not?” I threw my phone on the coffee table. Vile thing.
“You’re letting him know about the meeting,” Marie said. “In my opinion, you’re just following up.”
“True.” I laid a lot of weight on Marie’s opinion because she actually went on dates.
“I’ll text him for you,” Kat said. She picked up her phone. “Lincoln, Gabby didn’t want to text you, so I am…”
I stopped her with my upheld hand. “No, that’s okay.”
Marie nudged my phone closer to me. “This is a great opportunity for you to give a nudge without being pushy. Plus then he’ll have your number.”
“He was supposed to have my number on the sign-up sheet.” I held the phone.
“On paper. He probably lost it.”
“If he’d lost my number, he would’ve asked for it.”
Kat shrugged and flossed her teeth with a string she pulled from her shirt. “Not necessarily. He might’ve wanted you to call so he could have your number in his phone.”
I shook my head. “Guys like Lincoln aren’t afraid to ask dumpy girls like me for their phone number.”
“All guys are nervous if they like a girl.” Marie poked my shoulder.
Kat’s phone rang. She jetted to her room.
“He doesn’t like me.” I collapsed onto the tacky carpet.
Marie tugged on my arm. “He doesn’t know you well enough to know whether he likes you. Give him a chance. Plus, stop calling yourself dumpy. Part of the rules says you can’t say anything negative about yourself.”
I stared up into the ceiling. “That will certainly limit my conversation.”
Marie furrowed her brows. “Not even in jest.”
I slapped my forehead. “Great, now I won’t be funny!”
Marie hovered over me. Her perfectly sculpted eyebrows peaked in her forehead. “Gabby, promise me.”
“Okay.” I didn’t know how to break such a habit of self-deprecation—something ingrained in me and used as a coping mechanism. But I was willing to try.
“Let’s read the next section of the book, for business stuff.” Marie handed it to me.
I sat up and read. “‘Section three, Chapter six: the art of charm in conversation.’”
“This should be good.” Marie crossed her legs and ate from a bag of baby carrots.
I took a deep breath. “Ten rules for conversing with charm. One, listen to understand.”
“Sounds reasonable.” She sat next to me, reading the text over my shoulder. Her dark hair brushed against the pages.
I bit my lip. “I only argue, or don’t listen at all.”
Marie glanced up. “Hm? I’m sorry I wasn’t listening. I was reading ahead.” She pinched her lips together before breaking into a grin.
“Funny.” I rolled my eyes.
Marie knuckled my shoulder. “Keep going.”
“‘Two, be appropriate in the situation.’ What does that mean?”
Marie cleared her throat. “If you are going to the ballpark you can yell and scream at the ump, but don’t do that if you happen to run into him at a cocktail party. Also go with the flow. If you expect someone to be happy, but she’s had a bad day, you can adapt.”
“Right. Next.” My finger followed the next line. “‘Three, learn to lead the conversation in positive ways. Introduce a change in subject without offending the conversational partner. If the conversation takes a negative turn, you can bring it around.’” Marie excelled at changing the conversation and keeping us on track.
Marie nodded. “I can see how this would be helpful when you canvass businesses.”
I held my finger on the page and closed the book. “Yeah, they’ll bring up a lot of objections about why they can’t support us. This will help us focus on the positive and get them to see the benefits.”
“Okay, next.”
I cracked open the book again. “‘Four, do your part to keep up the conversation. Silence is golden except in conversation. Be well read, up to date, and able to join any conversation on any subject.’”
Even Marie sighed at that. “That’s a tall order.”
“‘Five, but don’t take over the conversation. Conversation is a two-way exchange, not one person monopolizing the speaking. Keep your ideas of interest to more than just a small subset of people or your specialized knowledge. Use intelligent, clear, and proper vocabulary. Use the correct tone of voice (see Chapter Four: The Musical Voice). Six, diction. Be clear and understandable. Nobody likes the one who mutters under their breath, even when the remarks, if understood could be funny, muttering may insult someone who cannot hear and believe the joke is on them.’”
Marie nodded.
This was a lot to take in. “‘Use language familiar to all.’”
“Oh my gosh!” Marie covered her mouth to laugh out loud. “I dated this guy who was a linguistic major and man, that boy had a vocabulary. He was smart, but half the time I didn’t know what he was talking about.”
“You thought he was smart?”
“Not smarter than me. I felt like he thought he was smarter than I am—a total turn-off. But then I wonder if he used that as a security blanket, you know?”
“People often hide behind those things.” What things did I hide behind?
“Sorry,” Marie said. “Keep reading.”
“‘Seven, ask questions about what people do in their discretionary time, and eight, don’t be too personal. Don’t ask about health problems or probe for too many details. Ooh, nine is good. Talk about ideas rather than people.”
“Gossip is so horrible.”
My mind flashed to my past. High school. After we broke up, Beau talked about me behind my back. He had to smear my name every time it came up.
“What’s the last one?”
Marie’s questions brought me back to the present. “Oh, ten, be entertaining not argumentative.”
Marie’s cheery face radiated confidence. “Okay, homework for this week is to try to have positive uplifting conversation. We need to practice and become better.”
“Marie you are already so good at this.”
“Yes, sadly, some of our roommates are not.” Marie sat back on her heels. “I forgot to ask you. Mind if I switch rooms with Kat?”
“What’s going on?”
“Kat and Lisa aren’t getting along. Kat’s complaining she leaves the light on too late for her to sleep. And Lisa complains Kat is throwing away all her stuff. I figured if we switch, the change will help keep the peace.”
“Fine. Sad though. I’ll miss you.”
“I know I’ll miss you, too!” She reached forward to give me a hug.
Her perfume surrounded me in her embrace. Then I hugged the book to my chest. I would have to study this before we went out into the world.
That night Lisa moved into my room. I grumbled about Marie leaving. But it was best to keep the peace.