“Yeah? Just today?” he teases.
Words tangle themselves in my throat as I struggle for an equally witty response, when someone - a manager I presume - calls out to Rafayel to attend to someone at the counter.
It’s enough to pull us out of our bubble, and Rafayel physically does so, stepping backward.
He turns in the direction of the voice, shouting out, “In a minute!”, before turning back to me.
“As much as I hate this, I have to get back to work though, or my manager will fire me. Not really, but you know,” he hesitates a moment, “Maybe you can give me your number though, so we can talk more?”
There.
Fireworks erupt around us, as he pulls his phone from his pocket, unlocks it, and pushes it against my fingers. I stare at the screen.Addnew contact.
Carefully, as though this moment is fragile, I type inJaslene:).
Entering my name into his phone feels too symbolic. An unspoken promise, almost a rule.
Once I give the phone back, he glances down, pleased.
“I’ll chat with you soon,” he says, exiting the aisle. It’s only when he’s out of sight, that the world seems to move again. I breathe deeply, and the air entering my lungs feels so refreshing.
Iactuallydid it. I got his number.Heaskedmefirst.
Diane is practically giddy with excitement, bouncing on her heels when I walk through the doors.
“So?”
I relay to her a detailed explanation of what just happened, and she whoops.
“Took him long enough,” she proclaims, “Nowthe real fun is going to begin. He better ask you out on a date next.”
“Hopefully,” I giggle and we link arms.
“Did you manage to get his socials? I want to stalk him,” Diane interjects, pulling out her phone with her free hand. I shake my head.
“Sadly just his number, but I’ll ask him later, maybe.”
“Boo. Please do, I want to stalk.”
On the train ride home, I think about the encounter with Rafayel.
Everything, so far, is going exactly to plan - from the meet-cute, to the ruse, to now. Word by word, as though jumping from the pages of the rom-com novels on my shelves.
Was it truly happening? The beginning of my love story?
It’s something I’ve wanted for so long.
I’d already experienced my meet-cute. That, I can tick off the list. Now is the next step.
Thefalling.
Given my poor track record of crushes, I’m nervous. I’m not used to the thought, the notion of someone liking me back. And I wanted itohso badly.
There’d been one other time that a boy reciprocated my feelings, and not for just three hours. It was during Year 11 - this particular boy and I’d been growing closer as friends. I’dalways sought friendship as the best basis for a relationship and believed us to be on the right track.
I confessed my feelings to him, and he confessed back.
But my euphoria only lasted about a week, when he told me that he didn’t feel the same anymore.
