it does that."
Still no response from her. She must really be furious with him, doing a silent burn. He was incredibly regretful that he had brought up the entire thing, and desperately wished he hadn't. Panicking, he realized that there was only one way to make things right with her: to pretend that, in fact, he hadn't brought it up.
"Like I said, I'm sorry," he told her. "I shouldn't have said anything. So let's just pretend this didn't happen. This way you won't be embarrassed, I won't be embarrassed, and I promise I won't ever bring it up again, unless you bring it up first."
The transport slowed and Zack managed to unscramble his brain sufficiently to recall that this was, indeed, where he was planning to disembark. It was, after all, Red 25, the level on which his quarters were situated. "Well, I guess this is where I get off. Listen, I hope I wasn't too far out of line, Lyta. I hope. Good night, Lyta."
He stepped out of the transport and the doors shut behind him. He sighed loudly and said to himself, "Well, maybe it was for the best. Three dates, I probably would have married her." He walked away, convinced that his desire for Lyta was doomed from the start for one simple and inescapable reason: they had absolutely nothing in common.
He was not correct, however. At that moment in time, there was something that they had very much in common, and that was obliviousness. He was oblivious to the fact that Lyta Alexander had never heard one damned word he'd said in all that time. And Lyta was oblivious to the fact that Zack had ever been present in the transport. Lyta's obliviousness was further reaching than Zack's, though, for she was oblivious of everyone and everything in the station. The only thing that she was aware of was the great, dark menace that