Page 24 of Okay, Cupid

“What choice do I have? I just want to do a good job.”

“It sounds like you took some great first steps.”

“But did I do enough?” I want to pull at my hair, but I settle on brushing it away from my face.

“Do you want me to tell you that you did?”

“Only if you actually believe that.”

“Then you did enough,” Cal says to me. “You’re being too rough on yourself. It was your first real day back out there. Relax, take a deep breath. Finish off this soda.”

I do like I’m told, drinking from the cup until the slurping sounds fill the restaurant.

“Good.” Cal rubs the top of my hand softly. “You’ve done this before. You’ve done it since you were literally a child. Over a decade of helping people get together. You can handle two teenagers.”

I sigh. “Alice is a tough cookie, not very social. Right now, the best bet is to make friends with her, figure out what happened, and then I’m thinking about re-creating the moment they fell in love the first time.”

“Nothing screams romance like eighth grade.”

“You think?”

“I think you should go for something more original. Something more epic. We can brainstorm this weekend. Maybe watch a few of those movies you like.”

“I can’t Saturday,” I tell him. “I’m going to the mall with Alice and Neve.”

“Ditching me already?” Cal puts a hand over his heart. “I’m wounded.”

“It’s a chance to get to know Alice,” I tell him, trying not to feel guilty, even though I know he’s kidding.

“I guess I can forgive you this time,” he says, leaning closer and putting his head on my shoulder. That’s when our waitress brings our food. I’ve gone with my classic, pieces of white bread cubed and toasted with egg custard in a bowl made out of a hollowed loaf. Cal adores chocolate, so he’s gone with a bingsu, covered in Ovaltine powder and Frosted Flakes.

“Anything interesting happen with your day?” I ask him. “All we’ve done is talk about me.”

“Oh, you know … the usual.” He picks at the bingsu.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I promise,” he says. “I just realized how much I missed hanging out with you.”

“Please.” I brush him off. “It’s been half a day.”

“Don’t laugh!” he says with a smile that tells me it’s okay. “We’ve basically spent every hour together for the last half a year. I miss it.”

“We only had to do that because I couldn’t keep my lips to myself.” I try to joke, but there’s a subtle bitterness to the words.

“I knowwwwww,” Cal whines. He keeps his head on my shoulder, and even though I’d never admit it to him, the weight is a comfort. I feel like it keeps me grounded, and his warmth is nice too.

We both hear the bell for the door ring, but it’s the rush of voices that really draws our attention. A group of boys, all dressed similarly in dark shirts and gym shorts and muddy tennis shoes. A regular stampede of teenage hormones strong enough to make me feel sorry for the single waitress working the entire restaurant.

And right in the middle of this crowd of boys is Huy Trinh, looking marginally sweatier than when I last saw him. Which is saying something, since I last saw him before his shower after gym.

He sees me right away, like he’s looking for me, which isn’t even possible. Our eyes meet for a moment, and instead of going over to his friends, sitting between them, he walks right over like he’s sitting with me and Cal.

“Jude!”

I decide to settle on the idea that I didn’t notice him walking in. “Huy, what’s up?” I feel a little heat in my cheeks, straightening so that Cal has to sit up.

He looks at my bowl. “Grabbing some egg custard? Nice choice.”