Her cat ate away happily at the food, not caring that it was half over done. All Charlotte could manage was pushing the food around her plate as she stared into space. It had been years since Charlotte had been to see a therapist about her social anxiety. She’d learned just enough to make it through her day-to-day life, but chalked it up to as good as she would ever get. But for the first time in a long time, she found herself wanting more.
There had been one exercise she always found hokey and embarrassing while in therapy, but decided to give a shot now. Closing her eyes Charlotte imagined what it would be like to meet Trey at the tattoo studio, first going through the worst-case scenario. They would shake hands awkwardly outside the door before Kym came to let them in.
During Charlotte’s appointments, the studio was always closed down to other customers, so it would be quiet except for the music Kym had chosen for the night. Probably something in the 90s punk pop era. Trey would follow her back to the room, where Charlotte would take her shirt and bra off and lay on the table.
In this worst-case scenario, Trey would be turned off by her thin frame, but would stay out of a sense of obligation after leading Charlotte on for the past few weeks. They would make stilted conversation with long silence filled pauses. Kym would try to pick up the thread of conversation, but it would be completely obvious Trey no longer held any interest. At the end of the night, he would hug her goodbye in a loose hold and walk away never to be heard from again.
Logically, Charlotte knew that there were much worse ways for a date to end. He could be an asshole, or violent, he could drug and take advantage of her. But part of her particular issues meant that those scenarios didn’t scare her nearly as much as the possibility that she would irrevocably embarrass herself, or maybe even worse, be so boring that Trey never wanted to have a second date.
Next, she pictured the best-case scenario. They would meet outside the front door of Galaxy Tattoo Studios. Trey would immediately wrap her in his big strong arms, kiss her cheek, and look at her like she was the thing he’d most wanted to see in the world. Kym would let them in, leading them back to her table. Charlotte would remove her shirt and bra, still slightly embarrassed to be so exposed before Trey.
But instead of indifference, he would show her how much he wanted her. He’d touch her skin, draw her into a kiss. Then she would lay down on the table, and he would hold her hand through the entire session. They would talk just like they had on the phone. At the end of the night, he would insist on seeing her home, and would kiss her so passionately at the door that she wouldn’t want him to leave. But he would, because he was a gentleman. And he would call her the next day to set up another date.
While Charlotte pictured each scenario, she took careful stock of her reactions. The dread in her stomach verses the elation in her chest. The burning behind her eyes versus the heating of her sex. The despair versus the hope. At the end of the visualization exercise, she asked herself the same thing her therapist always had. Would the possibility of her worst-case scenario be worth the possibility of the best-case scenario?
She opened her eyes, laughing a little when she saw Weasley had moved on to her breakfast as well. Without thinking about it too much, Charlotte picked up her phone and typed out a replay to Trey.
Charlotte: Do you know where Galaxy Ink is on the South Side? Can you be there at 7 p.m. tomorrow?
