She fist-bumps me and smiles.
We eat omelets, and nothing disastrous happens. She is from Wisconsin and has five brothers, and she’s a biology major who wants to eventually become a conservation scientist. I learn that she has two pet chinchillas at home, won an egg-carrying contest when she was nine, and likes to read biographies about former child stars.
For dessert, we have waffle sundaes, and midway through the whipped cream and chocolate mess, I realize how much I like not eating alone. I’m resembling an actual integrated student. It’s strange and wonderful.
And I like her.
Then, finally, it is Saturday.
I’d assumed Esben meant an evening date, but he wants to pick me up at noon. I’m not experienced enough to know if a lunch date shows less romantic intention than an evening date, but it’s a possibility. It’s nearly unbelievable that I’m even using words like “date” and “romantic” and applying them to myself, but the happiness I’ve felt over the past week is like nothing I’ve experienced before, and even I am not stupid enough to push that away.
That doesn’t, however, mean that I am not feeling wobbly and nervous as I stand on the steps of my dorm, overlooking the tree-lined street. I wait for a bit, then check the time.
He’s ten minutes late.
I take a seat. The leaves are in the process of turning red and orange under the October sky, and I look up as a breeze rustles the colors into a rich blur. I adjust the sheer pale-blue scarf around my neck and run my fingers through my bangs. Since I don’t know where we’re going, getting dressed was all the more stressful, but I went with jeans, ankle boots, and a shirt that matches my scarf. I twist the sweater I’m holding and scan the street for Esben’s car.
I study the gray stone stairs and follow the lines of the cracks. Then I stare at the grassy area and count blades of grass. I get to ninety-eight before I shake myself out of my haze.
Now he’s twenty minutes late.
I’m stricken by the possibility that he has stood me up, that this was all some cruel joke.Oh God.I stand and turn to walk up the steps, when I hear brakes squeal and a car door slam.
“Hey! Hey! Allison! Wait! Wait!”
With my back to him, I exhale a sound of relief. The patter of his footsteps as he runs up the stairs is practically musical, but I am unable to turn around. I feel his hand on my back as he rounds to my side. “Where are you going? You giving up on me so soon?”
“I thought maybe...I didn’t know...” I pivot a bit and smile apologetically.
“Did you think I was blowing you off?” he says, noticeably upset. “Allison...”
I shrug with embarrassment. “You could’ve changed your mind.”
“Not a chance. I’m sorry I’m late. My battery died and I had to get a jump.”
“It’s okay.”
“Come on.” Esben grabs my hand and leads me down to his car. He’s about to open my door, when he stops. “I would never stand you up. One of these days, you’ll trust me.”
“It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s me. And...the world. Everything. It’s not you.”
“Then one of these days, you’ll trust the world and everything.” He opens the door for me, and when I sit down, he leans in and kisses me quickly on the cheek. “But first, we eat. You up for a drive?”
“Sure. Where are we going?”
He starts the engine. “We’re in Maine, yes? So what must we eat?”
“Mexican food.”
He laughs. “Nooooo.”
“Sushi? Parsnips? Frozen pizza?”
“You’re nuts.”
“Nuts? Okay. Pecans, cashews...”
His profile when he laughs again is hard to look away from, so I don’t.
