Missed Connections by Tan-ni Fan Page A

your drama-free record?" Jack said. And then he stood up with his plate and stalked away, leaving Rob no more enlightened than before.
    The problem was, he wasn't any less attracted than before either. "This is so unlike me," Rob muttered to his mashed potatoes. "I never pine. And if I did, I'd never pine for someone who dislikes me like that. And even that. Never happens. People like me."
    He sighed and went back to inhaling his dinner. You just keep telling yourself all that, he thought.

    In Hot Water
    It would be an exaggeration to say that Rob's mood was ruined, but he didn't feel quite as sunny after his encounter with Jack. He was certainly not in the mood to endure a bunch of older guys feeling their oats ahead of a wedding. But the non-optionality of the event was   enforced by everyone he ran into on his way to the (mercifully complete) bathroom and he found himself, along with more than twenty others, wending his way to a meadow on the other side of the little river, where supposedly there would be hot springs. He shared the burden of a big bucket of ice and with an old man in a battered pith helmet and threadbare Hawaiian shirt, who he was pretty sure was the head of a geology department at one of the rural State University campuses. Tucked inside the ice were equal numbers of boutique beer and fancy soda bottles. The old guy made a remark about the pretentious beverages, but Charles reassured him that the other bucket, being hauled by Jack and Stanny, had "the piss and radiator fluid you favor, Baxter."
    Dear lord, they were expected to get into the hot springs together. And no warning, so no swimsuits. "You can leave your undies on if you must," Charles said. "But you'll thank me later if you take my advice and go down to the altogether."
    Rob did not take his advice.
    These were not the most beautiful hot springs on the face of the earth. Many years ago someone had thought to "improve" a section of the springs by building cement boxes around them. The cement was not of the highest quality and its finish had worn away, leaving the surface very rough, even painful to lean against. In two or three places there were broken bits, revealing rusty rebar. "This isn't safe ," Stanny said.
    George laughed at his son. "That's funny, coming from the guy who spent an afternoon walking the edge of the middle school roof like it was a tightrope."
    "I never said that was safe either," Stanny said.
    "No, actually, you did," George said.
    There were five of these cement boxes and once they resigned themselves to a much closer intimacy than most of them were comfortable with, they were able to squeeze themselves in. Charles apparently had deputized one of his friends to preside over each box. George and Charles each had one box, and three men of varying and increasing age had the others. Rob thought it would be least embarrassing to get in the one George was in charge of, but George appeared to be only letting in the boys, saying "You guys are going to want to talk about stuff that these guys aren't going to want to deal with." Then Rob decided that the next best one would be one presided over by Baxter: but no, that one was full, and after that, the mellow old guy from Sacramento who had been genially avoiding conversation since he got there, but he was apparently only letting in the over-forties. Rob gave up and asked Charles which box he was supposed to go into.
    "Mine or Juan's," he said, but Juan shook his head.
    "Full up," he said.
    Rob shrugged and climbed in, giving Jack a bright apologetic smile. Of course he'd be in the same box as Jack. Jack wasn't scowling this time. He was looking at Rob the same way that Rob was always trying not to get caught looking at Jack. That was an interesting development, but this was not a promising place to follow up on it. Rob did not regret his decision to keep his 'undies' on. Though another look like that one and he'd wish the water was uncomfortably cold instead of nicely hot.
    For