“You told me,” she replies. “Yesterday.”
“Oh.” I pause. “Right. Yes. I did.”
She takes another bite of crumpet, chewing thoughtfully. “What do you know about her?”
“Her name is Sophia,” I say. “She likes hiking. She has strong opinions about sourdough. And she agreed to meet me in a pub.”
Christa stares at me.
“That’s it,” she says.
“That is literally everything the app has revealed.”
She sets her mug down with care. Too much care. I recognise this posture. This is the posture she uses before dismantling a system.
“Okay,” she says. “We need to talk.”
I raise an eyebrow. “About sourdough.”
“About dating,” she corrects. “You are not going into this blind.”
“I’m not blind,” I protest. “I have eyes. And conversational skills.”
She gives me a look. “Right. First of all. You are meeting her at a pub. Good. Neutral territory. Sit somewhere you can actually hear each other and do not, under any circumstances, position yourself directly under a television.”
“Why?”
“Because football will happen to you,” she says grimly.
I nod, filing that away.
“Second,” she continues, “ask questions. Real ones. Not interview questions. If she says she likes hiking, don’t ask how often. Ask where. Or why. Or what she hates about it.”
“What if she loves everything about it?”
“Red flag,” Christa says immediately. “No one loves everything.”
I bite back a smile.
“And third,” she adds, leaning forward slightly, “you are not allowed to pre-emptively lower expectations.”
“I don’t do that.”
“You absolutely do,” she says. “No ‘I’m terrible at this’ jokes. No ‘I don’t usually date’ disclaimers. No tragic backstory about ODD unless explicitly invited.”
I sigh. “You’re very bossy in the mornings.”
“I’m efficient,” she replies. “There’s a difference.”
She picks up another strawberry, then pauses. “Also. One drink. Maybe two. You’re charming when relaxed. You’re rambling when nervous.”
“That feels personal.”
“It is,” she says cheerfully.
I watch her for a moment. Hair still wild. Pyjamas ridiculous. Completely in her element while instructing me on how not to sabotage myself.
“And, if it goes well,” she adds lightly, “you say goodnight. You do not linger. You do not overthink. You do not invite anyone anywhere.”
