Him & I

37

The extreme coolness of the MJR room is something I'll never get used to. I do understand with the number of computers and other electronic equipment, air-conditioning has to be high but there are times when I think it's all a ploy. A ploy to see how much we can take till we freeze to death.

It doesn't make a lot of sense but I think it.

And there are times when I get George, understand why he wears sweaters all day as he's an executive in the club, therefore has to stay in this customized freezer longer than most of us— except that I know him. He certainly only dresses the way he does to give off the typical Sherlock look.

With my light jotter in hand, I step fully into the room, about to walk over to my usual desk when I see a tight group circled round only one desk, seeming to read something off a computer.

No one notices a new arrival, and I don't need to announce myself, I just drop my jotter on my desk then walk over to them to see what's going on.

While they still don't notice me as I wriggle my way into the group, one does. Deborah. She sends a hey my way but not without giving me a strange look. That has me staring at her longer, till I feel all their eyes finding me in their crowd. They've finally noticed my presence. I mutter a weak, "Hi, everybody."

The only person seated, Joanna, looks up from the computer. "Wow, what a surprise, Melly. Hey, hello."

What a surprise?

What's going on?

Their eyes go past me to the door I just came in through, and before I can turn to meet who the newer guest is, a loud clap comes from whoever just stepped in.

George.

"Melissa!" He says with borderline enthusiasm. A smile too broad for a brooder and perfectionist like him. What exactly is going on?

"Come over here."

I look back at the group I'd just been standing in, notice how I seem to be so separate from them. The look on Debby's face was pity. It's the same look on all their faces.

"Good morning," I say once I get to him. Behind us, is the peering eyes of my colleagues but George in his usual way, dismisses the attention. Then smiles at me for the second time today.

For the second time ever. "How are you?"

I want to roll my eyes but I'm used to him conversing like he's ten years older. "Fine... um, you?"

"Great!" His left arm comes round my shoulders as he starts making us walk further away from where people are. And the air conditioner is even cooler here, so besides feeling a weird vibe, I'm also feeling terribly cold. I do the buttons on my blazer to see if it'll help.

"There's a thing going on here in MJR, a revamp per se. We're thinking of doing some changes, especially in the reports sector. Even especially with the football reports."

"Oh. That's good." I turn to look at him. Despite not being my height, he's purposefully lowering his head to be around mine. And that sort of makes our noses brush when we're facing each other, so I turn back away. Stare at the metallic wall with framed pictures of, first, members of the media team, journalism, and then the one with me in it, reports. I'm standing beside Debby at the edge, George at the center.

"It's very good, you're right." He lets go off me. Finally. On cue, I go to stand opposite him in order not to get another surprise hug.

But a beat too long passes, and I find myself getting anxious.

"We've accepted new members. One of them will be working with the football reports. Gina Thompson, in your grade you must know her."

"I— I think I do?"