There was something about Marc that allowed him to get away with anything in George's head.
Marc could do the same thing as Steven and it wouldn't bug George the slightest. The same damn thing that would irritate the shit out of George when Steven did it.
George listened to a lot of self help podcasts during his drive. He was probably projecting his own insecurities onto these guys in different ways. For Marc it came out as admiration. For Steven it came out as resentment. So George felt ashamed anytime he called Steven Steve instead of Steven, or didn't respond to the email as nicely as he would with Marc.
He noticed that Marc never wore sunglasses. He only noticed this when it was the height of summer and the days were so bright. Everybody else wore shades when going outside. Not Marc, not even during his one hour lunches.
George tumbled this thought along with that sticky feeling that he had known Marc from the past. It would've been better had he not already asked Marc whether they knew each other. At least then he woul have that ace card up his sleeve. He could wonder, sitting well assured that he could simply ask and be told 'oh yeah we went to that one conference that one summer.'
But no. There was something. Marc had responded that they didn't know each other. But the way he responded didn't sound reassuring. It felt like Marc was concealing something. Not an outright lie, George t hought. But some sort of hiding of full truth.
Marc could do the same thing as Steven and it wouldn't bug George the slightest. The same damn thing that would irritate the shit out of George when Steven did it.
George listened to a lot of self help podcasts during his drive. He was probably projecting his own insecurities onto these guys in different ways. For Marc it came out as admiration. For Steven it came out as resentment. So George felt ashamed anytime he called Steven Steve instead of Steven, or didn't respond to the email as nicely as he would with Marc.
He noticed that Marc never wore sunglasses. He only noticed this when it was the height of summer and the days were so bright. Everybody else wore shades when going outside. Not Marc, not even during his one hour lunches.
George tumbled this thought along with that sticky feeling that he had known Marc from the past. It would've been better had he not already asked Marc whether they knew each other. At least then he woul have that ace card up his sleeve. He could wonder, sitting well assured that he could simply ask and be told 'oh yeah we went to that one conference that one summer.'
But no. There was something. Marc had responded that they didn't know each other. But the way he responded didn't sound reassuring. It felt like Marc was concealing something. Not an outright lie, George t hought. But some sort of hiding of full truth.