"First things first," Marcus began as he twiddled a pen between his fingers. I didn't know why he had a pen. He wasn't writing anything. He just held it in his massive hand. "We need to get Jackson to notice you."

"He has noticed me. I'm the girl that told him I loved him," I groaned, desperately tugging at my hair and squeezing my eyes shut as I tried to repress the memory. Marcus laughed - loudly. So, I peeled my eyes open to glare at him menacingly.

"Well we gotta change that first impression. Now, don't bite my head off, Bambi," he trailed as he looked me over.

"What?" I snapped, shooting him another scowl at the nickname as well as the insult he was about to utter. I could just tell.

"You could do with a bit of a wardrobe change," He stated bluntly.

I tugged at my fraying I wear this shirt periodically, looking at the image of the periodic table, my gaze tracking down to my favourite overalls and fuzzy socks. "What's wrong with this?"

He shot me a smile, "Well, you're trying to make him forget that encounter, Mabel. Your periodic table shirt doesn't help."

I frowned as I glanced down at my shirt again.

"We can scratch this entire plan and you can keep your wardrobe. Your choice. Except for doing my laundry for three months. That's a binding contract." He grinned at me and leaned back on my couch, sliding the pen he was holding behind his ear.

I sat a little straighter, "No. I need to do this." Jackson was the love of my life. He just didn't realize it yet. And I was going to make him realize it. I just needed a little bit of help. "Okay, so wardrobe change. Are we talking more revealing overalls here? Because I've been dying to get a new pair."

"No more overalls, Mabel," Marcus laughed.

"Like at at all? That's kind of fifty perfect of my wardrobe here," I pouted.

"I'm aware. Just think more... mature. Something less 'girl next door'."

I gave him a look, "Fine. Got it. What else?"

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I think what we figured out the last time was that you're completely incapable of picking him up with your... charm."

Ouch.

Marcus gave me a long look, "What's he like? Total jock? Chicks falling at his feet?"

I rolled my eyes at him, "You think I'd fall for that? Jackson is charming, yes. And he has his fair share of picks to choose from, sure. But he donates to charity and keeps a small friend group and loves dogs."

Marcus just stared at me for the longest moment before he cracked up laughing, hitting his knee with one hand, the pen falling from behind his ear. "Oh man," he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, "That's great, Maybie. I hope it works out for the two of you."

My worst glower didn't seem to change his demeanour, sadly. "It will work out." When he  didn't stop laughing, I added, "If you don't stop, I'm going to make sure all your boxers have embarrassing messages written on them. And I mean all of them."

He held his hands up in defeat, "Okay okay. Sorry. So if you'd like to communicate your interest in a non-verbal way - are you even capable of doing that?"

"Just continue," I snapped. I wasn't positive I was capable of keeping my mouth shut, but I'd figure it out.

He grinned at me, "You're going to have to communicate your interest through your eyes and body language."

I nodded, "Right," I trailed.

"You get it?"

"No."

Marcus sighed, "You need to show him you're interested, not tell him. For instance, let's say you guys are within the same vicinity as each other. A bar or a club or whatever, you could hold eye contact and give a smile, or play with your hair or something," Marcus explained.

"Uh huh. I get it." I really didn't. 

"You don't."

I shook my head, "I don't."

Marcus leaned back with one arm against the back of the couch and lifted his head slightly to look at me, his eyes were slightly hooded and I noticed the slightest wisps of green in his hazel eyes. My breath caught in my throat as his lips parted for a moment before dazzling me with a small smile. I felt flutters invade my stomach as his eyes didn't leave mine. I almost wanted to look away because it too intense but I couldn't.

His slight smile transformed into a full blown grin as he leaned forward and booped my nose with his finger. "Show instead of tell."

"I can't do that! When have you ever heard me shut up in the small amount of time you've known me? That's not me having an off day, Marcus. That's my personality. I'm a blabber mouth!" I wailed as I threw my hands into the air. I could hardly keep my mouth closed for five seconds and he expected me to do that? I don't think so.

"It'll just take some practice. Just shut your mouth for two seconds and look at me with your Bambi eyes."

"Bambi eyes?" I asked, frowning. There was an insult there, I just knew it.

"Wide. Unsuspecting," Marcus clarified.

I knew the insult was coming. 

I huffed, blowing my hair out of my face and squared my shoulders. I could do this. I was smart. I could learn to show a guy I was interested without making a fool of myself.

Marcus leaned his head onto the arm that was resting at the back of the couch. "I'm ready," He stated as he watched me closely.

I widened my gaze and looked at Marcus, taking in his wavy tousled brown hair that looked so effortlessly styled. I wondered if he used gel or hairspray? I opened my mouth to ask before I clamped it shut again. Focus, Mabel.

I attempted my best smile before Marcus stuck his tongue out at me and I burst out laughing.

"There there, Mabel." He patted me on my shoulder, "You're not at my level yet but I'll get you there, I promise. We'll get our guy." He consoled, referencing my currently nonexistent boyfriend.

I pouted and crossed my arms over my decidedly nerdy shirt. What did Marcus know anyway?

I mean, clearly a lot if his track record was anything to go by since I'd moved in. He obviously knew how to get girls back to his apartment. He knew the signs they gave off. He knew enough to teach me anyway - forever clueless Mabel.

I was currently making a list of everything I could blame on my parents and my lack of flirting abilities was ranking high right at this moment. Wasn't this something people learned in their teens?

I was determined to make this work. Jackson would notice me. He would fall so freaking hard for me he won't know what hit him. Three months from now, I'd be sitting in his apartment listening to him tell me how much he loved me.

New clothes and slightly reigned in Mabel-ly personality, here I come.