The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism novel Chapter 218

Chapter 218: 218 | A Scumbag’s Guide to Aggressive Friendship

Felicity was watching my face. "You just went somewhere."

"Thinking."

"About how to say no politely?"

"About how to say yes without it destroying my relationship."

Her smile softened into something almost genuine. "Text Sloane. Tell her exactly what’s happening. Full transparency. If she trusts you, she’ll be fine with it. If she doesn’t trust you, that’s a problem you need to address anyway."

"You’re very good at making terrible ideas sound reasonable."

"It’s a gift. Eleven AM tomorrow. Meet me at the front gate. Bring your wallet and an open mind. Leave your paranoia at home."

She walked away before I could respond, her ponytail swinging and her shorts still criminally short.

I watched her go and wondered exactly how much trouble I’d just agreed to.

I texted Sloane that night.

The conversation went about as well as expected.

Sloane: You’re doing WHAT with WHO

Me: It’s a purely platonic shopping trip. She wants to help me buy clothes.

Sloane: SHE wants to help YOU buy clothes. Do you hear yourself.

Me: I know how it sounds.

Sloane: It sounds like you’re going on a date with someone who isn’t me.

Me: It’s not a date. It’s a friendship establishment exercise.

Sloane: A WHAT

Me: She thinks I’m incapable of being friends with attractive women. I’m proving her wrong.

Sloane: By spending the day alone with her at the mall. Brilliant strategy. Truly masterful.

Me: Would you prefer I go behind your back? Because this is me being transparent. This is me telling you exactly what’s happening before it happens so you don’t find out from someone else and assume the worst.

The typing indicator appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

Sloane: I hate that you’re being reasonable right now.

Me: I know.

Sloane: I hate that you’re right about the transparency thing.

Me: I know that too.

Sloane: If she touches you inappropriately I will burn down the entire mall with everyone inside it.

Me: That seems like a proportional response.

Sloane: I’m serious Lukas.

Me: I know you are. That’s what makes it so attractive.

Sloane: Don’t try to flirt your way out of this.

Me: I’m not flirting my way out of anything. I’m acknowledging that your possessiveness is genuinely hot while also reassuring you that nothing is going to happen.

Sloane: You’re impossible.

Me: You love it.

Sloane: I love YOU. There’s a difference.

The warmth through our bond connection spiked. Frustration layered over affection layered over something deeper that she probably wouldn’t name out loud.

Me: I’ll text you throughout the day. Full updates. If anything feels wrong I’ll leave immediately.

Sloane: Fine.

Me: Fine as in you’re actually fine or fine as in you’re storing this for later ammunition?

Sloane: Both. Definitely both.

Me: That’s fair.

Sloane: Have fun at your not-date with your not-girlfriend while I spend my Sunday training alone and thinking about all the ways I could creatively murder a blonde illusionist.

Me: Your support means everything to me.

"Great. Then we’re fine." She didn’t let go.

The mall was a twenty-minute walk from campus, or a ten-minute bus ride that Felicity insisted we skip because the weather was nice and we needed time to establish rapport.

"Rapport," I repeated.

"It’s a friendship thing. You build it through shared experiences and casual conversation. Right now we’re having a shared experience of walking to the mall while having casual conversation about the shared experience."

"That’s circular logic."

"All the best logic is circular. That’s how you know it’s working."

We walked past the campus gates and onto the main road. The commercial district rose in the distance, glass and steel catching the morning sun.

"So," Felicity said. "Tell me about yourself."

"You already know about me. You read my file."

"Files are facts. I want to know about you. The person underneath the facts. The guy who held back during evaluations because he’s hiding something. The guy who comforted a crying sheep girl even though it gained him nothing strategically."

"It gained me potential friendship with a useful ally."

"See, that’s what I’m talking about. You frame everything in terms of strategy. What do you actually care about? What makes you happy? What keeps you up at night?"

The questions were more personal than I expected. I considered deflecting, but something about the way Felicity asked made me think she’d see through it.

"I care about getting stronger," I said. "I care about the people who matter to me. I care about not being a disappointment to anyone counting on me."

"That’s very noble. Also very vague."

"Noble and vague is basically my whole personality."

Felicity laughed again. "What about fun? Do you have fun? Do you know what fun is?"

"I have fun."

"When? Doing what?"

I thought about it. "Training is fun. Getting better at things is fun. Watching other people realize I’m better than they thought is extremely fun."

"That’s not fun. That’s ego gratification. I’m talking about joy. Pure, uncomplicated happiness that doesn’t come from proving anything to anyone."