Neither of my parents said anything.
“We know Davis is a great kid,” Dad said. “I had lunch with Jim Dougherty on Tuesday. He wants to downsize to a townhouse.”
“And let me guess,” I said. “Jim Dougherty is what? Their next-door neighbor?”
“Three houses down, actually,” he replied.
“What are the freaking odds,” I muttered.
“The point of preferring Davis to pick you up isnotso we can turn into intimidating dads and ask about his intentions,” Dad said. “We trust you.”
“I know you do,” I said, sighing. “Whatisthe point?”
“For you to be wooed, Madeline,” Da said. “The point is for you to bewooed.”
***
I napped the rest of the way home (something told me freshly charged batteries were best for the dance floor) but woke up to a text from Austin:Hey, sorry about earlier. I know you knew what I was going to propose (because you’re a certified genius)…but so did Kates…and I had to go with her this time. Tonight is supposed to be about Amanda introducing Neil to their parents. She didn’t want hosting our family to steal her sister’s thunder. I hope you get that.
Yeah, no worries, I said.Have fun tonight.
No exclamations, he immediately wrote back.You’re Mad Mads.
No, I’m not, I lied.HAVE FUN TONIGHT!!!!!!!!!!
YOU TOO!!!!!!!he replied, and even though Iwas“Mad Mads” and still a little annoyed with him, I couldn’t help but laugh.
Nine
I was relieved when Davis suggested that we meet at Hun before heading into Princeton for dinner; it meant I wouldn’t need to navigate town on a Saturday night. “Cool car!” a guy in a black suit called after I’d parked the Defender and quickly swapped out my Stan Smiths for heels. He stood next to Davis, who greeted me with a hug.
“You look beautiful.” He smiled.
“Thank you.” I smiled back. The bridesmaids had let me make the executive decision, but Katie highly encouraged me to pick a strapless navy silk dress covered with light blue and yellow roses. “You look great, too,” I added, touching the lapel of Davis’s burgundy suit.
“Thanks,” he said, then put a hand on my back. A thrill sparked up my spine. This was my first date! “Let me introduce you to everyone.” We walked over to the group hanging out by a blue Tesla. “Guys, this is Mads!”
“Hey, I’m Evan,” the guy in the black suit said. Davis had mentioned Evan in his texts. They were best friends. “And that seriously is asweetride. What year is it?”
“Nineteen ninety,” I said proudly. “My grandfather taught me to drive in it.”
Evan’s date was named Rebecca, and then there were two other couples. One girl—Natalie—seemed to be giving off a strange vibe, but whenshenoticed thatInoticed, she dropped her pout. “I like your earrings,” she said, pointing to my wavy gold hoops. The bridesmaids couldn’t be thanked for my accessories. All me.
Hun’s JProm apparently wasn’t as much of a big deal as it was at my school. I was a little surprised that we weren’t taking any pre-prom pictures like Connor and I would next weekend poolside in Erin Magee’s backyard.
Tonight’s dance also wasn’t at an off-campus venue. “It’s always in the senior dining hall,” Rebecca informed me as we piled into Natalie’s white Range Rover, but with Davis behind the wheel. “They closed it for lunch today so they could transform the place…”
No one really spoke to me on the way to Princeton proper; instead, they fought over who should DJ, and once Rebecca was chosen, it became all about booing her playlist. She was, it seemed, pro-Pitbull.
I felt my phone buzz while Davis circled town for parking—I’d silenced all alerts from the bridesmaid chat, but was happy to see a text from Connor:How’s it going so far?
Fine, I typed back.They seem nice, but nobody’s really talked to me yet.
Bet that’s because they’re close friends and aren’t used to newcomers, he wrote.It’ll get better at dinner. Just be yourself!
Such original advice, I messaged, resisting the urge to ask what he was up to tonight. Texting with Connor always made me feel less nervous about things, but it also distracted me. I had to be present; I had to be here. I didn’t want Davis to think I wasn’t interested.
Ember & Ash was unsurprisingly flooded when we arrived, but I smiled to myself. It wasn’t the only restaurant the Álvarez family owned, but Marco once told me it was their favorite, and I understood why. I loved the restaurant’s moody vibe. Low lighting with custom plastered ombré walls—white that gradually darkened into gray that deepened into black. There was an elegant stone firepit in the center of the space—only lit for dinner, I knew—and surrounding it were reclaimed wood tables. Some were large enough to seat ten, while much more intimate tables were arranged near the mile-long banquette against the wall. Its cushions were inky velvet.Date night central, I surmised upon noticing all the couples. A bespectacled blond man and a pretty brunette held hands across their small table and wouldn’t stop smiling at each other. He raised their entwined fingers and kissed her knuckles when she laughed at something he’d said. It was a little nauseating, but a lot adorable. It was as if they were off in their own orbit, one where only the two of them existed.
