Middle Ground Read Online Free PDF

dimly lit office awaiting a fine or possible arrest from a power-tripping club manager.
    His eyes never strayed from my face and I waited for him to say something, but he seemed content to stare at me. Questions rolled through my mind:
Where have you been? Why haven’t you called? Have you thought about me once? I’ve thought about you one or one thousand times.
    “What are you doing here?” I asked. He studied me for a few more seconds, probably trying to guess what I was really thinking.
    “I’m headed to San Diego, so I thought I’d surprise you. Pat told me where you guys were going.” He raised his hands in the air. “Nino’s? Seriously, out of all the great places in L.A., you guys choose Club Frat House?”
    “Hey, this wasn’t my idea,” I said. “And considering I just shut the place down, you could say I’m not a huge fan of it either.”
    He shook his head and his eyes found mine again. “What bothers me is you’re not even remotely worried you’re about to get arrested.”
    “I was worried, but now you’re here,” I said simply.
    He frowned. “You think I’m always going to magically appear and get you out of trouble?”
    I thought about this. “It’s more like you magically appear and I get into trouble,” I corrected him. “You’re like my antivenin to the lethal bite of authority.”
    “Great,” he said. Justin’s gaze trickled down to my dress and he raised his eyebrows. “That isn’t what you were wearing on the screen,” he pointed out.
    I felt myself blush with embarrassment. He must have been thinking I looked ridiculous, so overdressed. I crossed my arms over my exposed upper chest.
    “I didn’t know we were going to a virtual club,” I said. “How long were you in there anyway?”
    His mouth turned up at the corner. “Long enough to see that I’m
extreme, excessive,
and
overrated.
That last word hurts a little.”
    Before I could respond, we were interrupted by footsteps outside. The door buzzed open and we both faced forward solemnly, like two children who’ve been given a time-out. The manager streaked past us and sat down behind her desk, her face frazzled.
    “Well,” she said. “This is certainly a scene. Now the news is here.” She lifted a lanyard holding several keycards from around her neck and set it on the desk. She worried her fingers through her brown shoulder-length hair and studied her flipscreen.
    “The good news is we turned up information about you two,” she said. “Paul Luddite and Rebecca Riggs?” she said with a coy smile and waited for both of us to nod in agreement. “In case you forgot, we scan all our clients’ fingerprints when they come into this club. That’s the advantage of technology. We have access to all of your information. If you two were so smart, you would have thought of that.”
    The door opened again and Trey peered in.
    “You can at least knock, Trey,” she barked at him. Justin and I exchanged amused glances.
    “They want to interview you,” he said. She raised her eyebrows and tried to appear annoyed, but her eyes were bright.
    “Television?” She stared down at her blouse and ran her fingers over some wrinkles on the sleeve of her jacket. “I just need to run to the restroom.” She grabbed a small cosmetic bag out of her desk drawer. As she passed us, she said over her shoulder that she would be back to deal with us later. The door slammed loudly behind her.
    The noise from outside the window escalated and we could hear the crowd cheering. I looked over at Justin and he was still watching me.
    “Paul Luddite?” I asked him. “Interesting name choice. Any relation?” He smiled, his dimples appearing.
    “You’ve heard of them?”
    “I’ve read about the Luddites. They were rioters in Britain in the 1800s. They protested against the industrial revolution because machines were taking over human jobs.”
    “That’s right,” Justin said.
    “They were called machine breakers,” I said.
    “It has