Rooms: A Novel by James L. Rubart Page A

counter.
    “Not a problem. Most women—”
    “—are catty and smile at your face, then stab you in the back. It’s one reason why I’ve never had a lot of girlfriends. I had more friends in high school who were guys.”
    “So you don’t believe in the WHMS Rule?” He moved over to the refrigerator and grabbed two Diet Cokes.
    “You lost me.”
    “The When Harry Met Sally Rule. That guys and girls can’t be friends. Never saw the movie?”
    “Yes, I saw it. I never wanted to believe it, but I will confess most times it’s true.”
    “You know this from personal experience?”
    “All through high school and college, I’d ask the guy if we were just friends, he’d say ‘oh yes, friends only,’ and in the end he’d reluctantly confess he’d been secretly in love with me the whole time.”
    “It’s the way guys are made,” Micah confessed. “They promise they want to be buds only, but they tend to be attracted to the girl from the beginning.”
    “So where does that leave us?”
    Micah fell back against the pantry doors as if shot and laughed. “I see what you mean about the tact thing.”
    “You mean the direct thing?”
    “Yeah, that’s what I meant.” He walked over to her, poured their Cokes, and sat on the bar stool next to her.
    “So where does that leave us?” The laughter in her eyes disappeared.
    “Simple. We’re not friends.”
    “ Really . Then please provide the definition of our relationship.”
    Micah pretended to take out a calculator and punch imaginary numbers into it. After a few seconds he looked up from under his eyebrows. “This is our third meeting so we’re good acquaintances. I have a girlfriend back home. If a man has a girlfriend and the person of the opposite sex is informed of it within the first four meetings, he’s allowed to develop a strictly platonic relationship. Since I let you know this in only our third meeting, we’re ahead of schedule and off to an extremely good start.”
    Did he have a girlfriend back home? No. Julie had made it pretty clear they were finished. He might as well admit it. But not out loud.
    “Cheers then. To a fruitful acquaintanceship.” She winked and raised her glass.
    “Is that a word?”
    “As of now, yes.”
    They smacked their glasses together just hard enough for a smattering of pop to spill over the sides.
    Micah suggested they go out on the deck. Walking beside Sarah across the tan carpet, he easily fell into her rhythm and it stirred something inside he couldn’t put a name to. It wasn’t infatuation or a crush. He wouldn’t even call it romantic. Natural was the best word to describe it.
    “How ’bout you? Have a boyfriend?”
    “No.”
    She looked at him without elaboration, so he asked the obvious follow-up question. “How long have you been broken up?”
    “Why do you think it was recent?” She poked him in the side.
    “A girl as beautiful and smart as you is simply not allowed to be single for more than six months. Eight months max. The rules won’t allow it.”
    “Really?” Sarah folded her arms across her chest. “And what do the rules say about telling an acquaintance she is beautiful when the said prevaricator of the line has a girlfriend named Julie?”
    “The judges allow it providing three things: It has to be true, it has to be said without any romantic atmosphere or intent clouding the issue, and finally, beautiful has to be said within the context of explaining a mystery, like why you aren’t with anyone right now. Not just said on its own for the sake of saying it,” Micah said.
    “Ah. Thanks for the clarification. At least we met two of the requirements.”
    “No prospects on the horizon?”
    “I’ve sworn off guys.” She pulled her hair behind her ears. “I’m done with boyfriends for a long, long time. Finished. Over.” A defiant look filled her eyes, and she didn’t smile.
    Micah tried to laugh, but it died on his lips as Sarah turned away. He didn’t expect such a vehement