I make a noncommittal sound. “Maybe.”
Our waitress arrives at our table then and offers to take our orders before whisking our menus away and promising to return soon with our drinks. Conversation moves smoothly after that. Nothing too deep. Wyatt’s a Sophomore at PacNorth working on a degree in structural engineering. He’s a grade level below me, but we’re the same age—twenty-one.
He took a year off after high school to sort out what he wanted to do. Something I secretly wish I’d considered. He plays football, obviously. Running back, which is kinda cool. It makes sense why he’s in such good shape. Not that I’ve really noticed. He just has broad shoulders, I mean.
He has one brother and one sister. Both are younger. His brother is still in high school and his sister—Willow—is a freshman on the swim team. We haven’t really talked much since I joined the team, but she seems nice. Quiet. She’s like me and mostly keeps to herself. Hopefully, she doesn’t mind that her brother and I are on a date. I probably should have felt her out about that before agreeing. What if she is vehemently opposed to her teammates going out with her brother? Not that we’re likegoing out, or going steady.Whatever people call it these days. It’s just one date. We’re not likedating.
Exhaling a sigh, I pick at my napkin, tearing off small pieces until I’m left with a small pile of shreds.
I’m making this too complicated.
It’s just that dating a teammate’s brother or ex, that sort of thing, can get messy. I doubt Wyatt and I will go out again, so it shouldn’t be a problem, but yeah. I mean, maybe I’ll check in with Willow tomorrow or something. Make sure everything is okay.
No. That’s dumb. We’ve never even talked before, and she is the one that asked Adriana if I was seeing anyone. It’s fine. Why am I spiraling over this?
Thankfully, Wyatt doesn’t seem to notice my mini freak out. He’s easy to talk to. Mostly because he does the majority of the talking, but I don’t mind. He has a nice voice, and he keeps his attention focused on me despite the dozens of other girls walking around the restaurant.
“So, what are you studying?” he asks before taking a drink of his Coke.
“Public relations,” I tell him.
“Oh, cool. What got you into that?” He’s so animated with the way he talks. Like he’s genuinely interested. It’s sweet.
“My Dad. He’s our uh …” This part is always a little weird. “He’s Richland’s mayor.”
He coughs, choking on his Coke as his eyes go wide. “No shit?” he asks after pounding on his chest. He reaches for a napkin to wipe his face and coughs again to clear his throat.
Heat rises in my face. “Don’t make it weird.” I wince, realizing I said that out loud, and Wyatt's face splits into a grin.
“Not weird,” he assures me. He takes another drink of his Coke, this time without issue. “Just took me by surprise, but that’s cool. Really cool,” he says. “So public relations. Do you have your eyes set on politics too, or is that so you can maybe help him out on his campaigns and stuff?”
“No politics for me.” I shrug. “But yeah. I guess so, I can help him out. I’m still not one hundred percent sold on it, but I was undeclared last year and public relations makes sense, so I just rolled with it.”
Our food arrives, and our conversation takes a momentary pause while we both focus on eating. My attention is pulled toward the televisions above the bar, and I catch myself watching highlights of one of PacNorth’s previous football games.
“Last week,” Wyatt says, and I flick my gaze toward him. “The game.”
“Oh, yeah. Which one are you?” He points to one of the guys on the screen. “Number sixty-seven.”
We finish our meal and watch the game, and all in all, I decide to count this date as a win. We’ve been here for almost an hour. I haven’t had a panic attack, and Wyatt’s been … nice. If tonight’s date is a test, I’m passing with flying colors.
A wave of relief sweeps through me. Yeah. This was good.
Now if I can just figure out a way to call an end to the night before I do something embarrassing, I’ll be set. “So, this was fun.” I smile, picking at the last of my fries.
“Yeah. It was.” His eyes crinkle at the corners, and he offers me a toothy smile. “I had a really great time.”
He reaches a hand across the table and places it on top of mine. His eyes stare into my own, searching.
Oh no.He wants to do this again.
Is he going to ask me out? Like, here? I thought there was a three day rule or something like that.
Swallowing hard, I tug my hand free and place it in my lap. “I did too.” All true. I did have a good time. But I’m just dipping my toes back in the water here. Proving to myself that I can do it. You know, be normal again. I’m not actually interested in dating, or you know, like having a boyfriend or anything. Does he want that?
No. I’m getting ahead of myself. Breathe, Cecilia. I try to suck in a lungful of air, but my throat feels tight. I can’t get enough air into my lungs. Shit. Now I decide to panic? Seriously?
“We should?—”
