“I know you,” you tell her.
She twists her mouth up. “Do you really?”
“Did you take Professor Stevens’ American History class last spring?”
She takes a step towards you, cocking her head. “Can you tell me something?”
“Sure. What?”
“Does that line ever really work for you?”
“It’s not a line,” you say, almost too quickly.
“They never are,” she says, turning to go.
“Hey, wait—” But she’s gone.
The fact of the matter is that it's been so long since you've asked anyone out that you have no idea how to do it anymore. But you've got all the time in the world, of course – literally – so there's no reason to stop trying. You jump back sixty seconds into the hallway full of people, half of them already texting someone on their phones.
Inez appears. You decide to
Or you can think better of it, deciding instead to