Luckily, he didn’t seem to be overthinking my words to the same degree I was. “You do have a huge family.”
“Sometimes too huge,” I joked, then couldn’t think of a single other thing to say. Nothing. Nada. What were words? I hoped Isaac couldn’t sense my rising panic. My hands were slippery with sweat and I had to consciously keep from wiping them on my jeans.
Okay. What was I supposed to do? Give a compliment or ask a question.
Compliment:You’re so beautiful, and I think we’d make a fantastic couple.
Nope. Nope. Okay. Question. If I asked a question, I didn’t have to talk. I cleared my throat, fearing it might be so dry I’d croak. “Um. Your parents won’t miss you for Hanukkah?”
“Nah, they’re off traveling.”
Right. God, I knew they were traveling. “Where are they now?”
“Paris.”
“Wow, how cool! I love Paris!”
“Have you been?”
No. No, I had not, which made it weird I’d made a statement about loving it. “No, I’ve only left the country once, when we went to Italy when I was fourteen.” Did I sound boring and inexperienced? He’d probably been all over the world. “But I love croissants,” I said brightly, then wanted to die.I love croissants?
Luckily, he smiled like I’d said something cute. Or childish. Potentially both. “Same.”
I smiled back, relieved he hadn’t given me a look of scorn. I felt like I’d run a marathon.
Oh no. I’d run out of things to sayagain.Why hadn’t Tyler made me make a list of conversational gambits?
I never ran out of things to say withTyler.
“Um, you haven’t been to Golden Doors before, right? I’ll show you around.” I turned to find my grandmother, who’d know where Isaac’s stuff should go, then remembered one last piece of advice.
Casual touch.
Oh god, no. The thought of touching Isaac made me want to vomit. Well, no—I wouldloveif wemagicallytouched. But I couldn’t bring myself to initiate a touch of his arm.
Or.
Could I?
I beamed at Isaac as bright as I could, hoping it would blind him to my nervousness. Then, fleetingly, I touched his arm at the elbow. “I’ll be right back.”
I walked toward Grandma and Uncle Arnold, internally screaming.Ahhhhhh!My whole body started sweating, liquid springing from pores I hadn’t known existed. I had done it. Good lord. I hadtouched Isaac.I was a superhero.
“Hello, Shira,” Uncle Arnold said, urbane as always, as I approached.
“Hi, Uncle Arnold.” Standing on my tiptoes, I kissed his dry, papery cheek. “Happy Hanukkah.” I turned to Grandma. “I thought I’d show Isaac his room. Where do you want him?”
She gave me a sharp glance, which quickly transitioned to the politest of smiles. “Thank you, dear. Next to Noah and Ethan.”
I nodded and turned to Isaac. “This way.”
He followed me up the grand staircase, his bulging messenger bag over one shoulder, a duffel bag in the other hand. If people liked Tyler because he made them comfortable, I should try to make Isaac comfortable. Only Isaac wasn’t the ill-at-easeperson here; he seemed fine trooping after me in silence.
“How’s work?” Surely a benign question, given how I mostly encountered him in his work settings.
“It’s good.”
I waited a beat. Never mind. “You’re at Columbia, right? What are you studying?”
