Leo, of course, looked as relaxed as he always did. An easy smile, occasionally rocking back in his chair like a high school boy, and a loud, raucous laugh.
It was only after we’d drained our drinks that Atticus checked his phone. “I have to go. I have a lecture.” He stood up.
“Right,” I said, standing up too. “Um. I guess we’ll keep in touch?”
He nodded. “You have my email.”
“Actually, could I get your number? It’ll be easier to contact each other that way.”
“Sure.” He started reciting numbers, and I scrambled to get my phone out and create a new contact. “Great. I’ll catch you later then.”
He nodded. “It was nice to meet you. You too, Leo,” he said. “Goodbye.”
“See ya,” Leo and I said, watching him go. After he left the cafe, I slumped back down in my seat.
“What’s wrong?” Leo said.
“Nothing.” I rested my chin on my fists.
“I think it went well,” Leo mused.
“You were here for more than half of it,” I said.
He froze. “Crap, I totally barged in on your date. I’m so sorry —”
“No!” I interrupted, touching his arm. “Honestly, it’s a blessing you came. You should’ve seen us before. It was the most awkward thing in the world. It’s like my brain wasn’t working, and I forgot how to make conversation.”
Leo’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh, it was,” I said. “You saved the date from being a dumpster fire.”
“You’re welcome?”
“Oh my god,” I said, rubbing my face again.
“Hey, if it went well, what’s wrong? I think he’s nice.”
“He is nice,” I said, voice muffled with my hands. Sure, it hadn’t been effortless with Atticus, but things had been easier towards the end. Maybe once we knew each other more, we’d get along better.
“Then what’s wrong? He’s not ugly.”
I removed my hands. “He’s not ugly,” I agreed. “He’s — did you see his face?”
“Obviously, I saw his face.”
“No, I mean,” I waved my hands. “Did you see his face?He’s a ten out of ten. He looks like a model for, I don’t know,Prada or something. What the hell is he doing on a date with me? Maybe that’s part of the reason why I couldn’t make normal conversation — because he intimidates me.”
Leo frowned. “Why does he intimidate you? You’re good looking, too.”
“Thanks, but I’m not like him!” I said. “He’s in a totally different league. I was expecting some average guy, but no,heshows up.”
“He’s not in a different league,” he said. “If you think that he’s too good for you, you’ll psych yourself out.”
“I’m already psyched out!” I said. “This morning, my expectations were on the floor, but not only is he pretty as hell” — Leo’s frown deepened — “he’s looking for a relationship, like me. Not a hookup. Not a fling. Oh my god. I can’t fumble this.” I took my phone out. “Should I message him? No, it’s too soon. He left five minutes ago. I’ll message him tonight. What should I say? ‘Hey, it was nice meeting you…’ Or ‘Hey, I had fun today…’ No, what about, ‘Would you be interested in having dinner…’”
Leo touched the hand that was holding my phone and pushed it down. “Whatever you write will be fine,” he said. “You like him, don’t you?”
I faltered. “I’m not sure. I don’t know him well enough for that, but…”
