We return to the dock a few hours later. The moment we’re back on the sidewalk, Christian turns to me and asks, “Would you like to come back to my place?”
“Are you having another party?”
He smiles at this. “I was thinking of something quieter. Just the two of us,” he says.
“Oh…”
I stare at the water, considering this. Although I’m enjoying our time together, I’m not sure if I’m ready for more to happen. “Maybe another night,” I suggest. “I have to wake up early for work tomorrow.”
Thankfully, Christian doesn’t push me on this. “Of course,” he says kindly. Then he takes out his phone. “Let me call you a car.”
“You don’t have to do that—” I start.
He holds up a hand for a moment. “It’s already on the way,” he says, returning his phone to his pocket. “Should be here in a few minutes.”
“Oh, thank you.”
Christian walks me to the pickup spot and waits with me.
“I hope you had a good night,” he says.
“Yeah, it was a lot of fun.”
“I’m glad,” he says, leaning into me a little. “Because I want to see you again.”
I smile. “Me, too.”
A moment later, a black car arrives. Christian opens the door for me. “Text me when you get home,” he says.
“Okay.”
The door shuts. Christian stands at the sidewalk, watching us drive off. I lean back in the seat the second he’s out of view. There are still butterflies in my stomach. It was like something right out of a movie. I can’t stop smiling as I stare out the window. At home, I take a shower and get ready for bed. I don’t think about anyone else for the rest of the night. I fall asleep easily, wondering when I’ll see him again.
Fifteen
I wake up to nothing on my desk. No paper star or roses forme. I haven’t seen Haru in a couple of days. I thought he would have shown up by now. We’re supposed to see a movie in the park together. But he hasn’t been there when I get out of work. I hope he isn’t mad at me for leaving the other day. I remind myself to make it up to him when he’s back.
I’m a little anxious this morning, checking my phone every few minutes. It’s been three days since my date with Christian. But I haven’t heard from him since then. His last text was at 11:14 that night, asking if I made it home safely. The jacket he let me borrow hangs on the back of my chair. I still have to return it to him. I texted him the morning after, letting him know I had a great time. But he hasn’t responded yet. I’m sure he’s just really busy at the moment. Maybe I’ll text him again tomorrow.
I couldn’t help looking him up online. He has a lot of photos on Instagram, lounging around on the beach. Most of them in different countries. When I googled his name, a few articles from his school came up. He was on the varsity swim team at his private school before going on to Yale. He double majored in political science and theater, graduating with highhonors. There’s a few pictures of him with some other guy from his swim team at Yale. Maybe that’s the type he’s into. Someone who went to an Ivy League and spends summers at their country house in the Poconos.
I sit at my desk and turn on my laptop. It’s been a minute since I looked at college applications. The portal to University of Illinois is already opened. I’m still planning on applying there again. But I decide to add more schools to the list. Particularly ones I think would impress someone like Christian. Places like Northwestern or the University of Chicago are viewed as Ivy Leagues around here. Though my chances of getting in either are a long shot. My grades aren’t too bad, but I don’t have a resume like Christian’s.
Winning the film scholarship would make me stand out. But it’s due in a few weeks and I still haven’t started on it. All I have are some random shots of the city. I still can’t believe I lied to Jasmine about making it to the next round. At least it’s motivating me to pick up my camera again. I spend the rest of the morning thinking of ideas before work.
I arrive at the theater aroundnoon. Alex is sitting at the counter, eating a celery stick from a vegetable platter beside a plate of sandwiches. I set my things down, picking up a radish that fell on the floor. “Where did this food come from?”
“It was here when we walked in,” Alex says.
I raise a brow at her.
“Simon found it in the dressing room.”
“But we’re not allowed in there.”
Alex tosses her hair and says, “There’s so many rules around here. How are we possibly supposed to remember them all?” She dips the celery stick in hummus and takes a bite.
I pick up the bottle of wine beside her. “Maybe we should ease up on the free stuff. I think they’re starting to catch on.”
