I know I’m softening because I keep waiting for his texts. It’s lovely to be taken care of. It makes me feel like I’m not alone on campus, especially when I know he has to be busier than he lets on. He plays polo, and from what I’ve seen on some of the pictures posted, he also plays tennis. Suyen’s a great friend, but she’s too busy to check in on me more than every once in a while, especially with the new job she started a couple of weeks ago at a local vineyard.
–Grant: How are you feeling?
–Me: Much better. Thanks.
–Grant: Good enough to call your grandparents this weekend?
Huh. He remembered.
–Me: Yes.
–Grant: Told you that expired Advil wouldn’t work.
I can just hear his smug tone. For some reason, it makes me smile a little.
I start to type something snarky, then stop. He deserves better for his acts of kindness. He said he wanted me to buy him dinner after our last class. Maybe I should do that. Combine thanking him for that and the “nursing.”
–Me: Fine, you were right.
–Grant: Thank you.
–Me: Are you free tomorrow evening?
–Grant: Maaaaaaybe. Are you asking me out?
Wait—did I sound like I was asking him out?
–Me: I wanted to know if you could bring me more canned soup.
After hitting send, I stare at the screen, something hot and exciting blooming in my chest as I wait.
–Grant: We can do better than canned soup. For variety.
He sends me a picture of canned spinach. The caption reads:If it’s good enough for Popeye, it’s good enough for you. I laugh.
–Me: How does cheap pasta sound?
–Grant: You paying?
–Me: Told you I would.
–Grant: I dunno…
He probably wants something fancy. Like his watch. Suyen told me that thing’s worth over fifteen grand, and I almost fell off the lounge couch. Who just casually wears that kind of stuff on their wrist? I would have a dozen anti-theft devices on the strap!
Oh well. If he doesn’t want to…
–Grant: Screw it. :shrug emoji: I should probably play hard to get, but who am I kidding? What time?
I laugh.
–Me: 7?
–Grant: Works for me. Pick you up in front of Howell?
I hesitate. That feels too much like a date, rather than just an innocent thank-you dinner.
–Me: Let’s meet at the diner. I’ll text you the directions.
