“Yeah, it is,” he says, starting to pack up his things. “Anyway, I should get going. Thanks for the dinosaur lesson, Lexie.”
And just like that, he’s gone, leaving me alone with my textbooks and my tangled emotions. The library suddenly feels too quiet, too empty. I feel abandoned, which is ridiculous. We’re just study buddies. He has no obligation to stick around.
Still, the feeling gnaws at me. Before I can talk myself out of it, I pull out my phone and open my conversation with Eric. My thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment before I type out what I hope is a subtly flirty message.
Hey, Eric! Looking forward to our date tomorrow. I was thinking about that vegan place you mentioned. I’m definitely in the mood for something hot and spicy Any recommendations?
I hit send, then immediately start second-guessing myself. Is it too subtle? Not subtle enough? I mean, “hot and spicy” could just be about food, right? But the smiley face adds a little something… doesn’t it?
The response comes quicker than I expected, making my heart leap. But as I read Eric’s reply, that leap turns into a slow deflation.
Hello, Alex. I’m looking forward to our date as well. Regarding spicy dishes, the restaurant has an excellent dal curry that’s quite fiery. However, if you’re sensitive to capsaicin (it doesn’t agree with my mother), I’d recommend starting with their mild tomato basil soup. It’s important to know your spice tolerance to avoid digestive discomfort.
I blink once. Twice. It’s a perfectly nice response. Thoughtful, even.
But where’s the playfulness? The hint of flirtation? Did he completely miss my attempt, or is he deliberately keeping things strictly about the food? The mention of “digestive discomfort” is certainlynot sexy.
Before I can stop myself, I imagine how Freddie might have responded. He’d have probably picked up on the subtext and commented that he couldn’t wait for a hot and spicy night and that he’s preparing me a surprise for dessert.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge thoughts of Freddie. Eric is great. He’s smart, he cares about the environment, he’s exactly the kind of guy I should be excited about. So what if he didn’t pick up on my subtle flirting? That’s not everything.
But as I turn back to my calculus homework, I can’t quite shake the nagging feeling that maybe I’m just not cut out for this. Dating. Flirting. I’m left wondering if I should have been more direct or if I shouldn’t have tried to flirt at all.
I groan quietly and let my head rest on my textbook for a moment.
Great.
Now I have two things to be frustrated about: partial derivatives and my failure at subtle communication. Somehow, the math seems like the easier problem to solve.
FREDDIE
THEN – SOPHOMORE YEAR – JANUARY
Is there a better feeling than absolutely demolishing your best friend at NBA 2K?
I don’t think so.
The controller vibrates in my hands as I smash all the right buttons, eliciting an angry grunt from Troy. My phone buzzes, Alex’s name illuminating the screen.
“Pause the game, asshole,” Troy grumbles as I reach for my phone.
I smirk. “Like you need the break.”
She probably wants to gush about her big date with Eric the Wonderful.
“Hey, Lex. How’s the date?—”
The words die in my throat. Sniffling crackles through the speaker, Alex’s voice choked with tears.
Fuck. Who fuckingdaredto make her cry?
“Freddie? Can you…can you come get me?” I’m already on my feet, scanning the room for my keys.
“Where are you? What happened?”
“I’m at The Hungry Vegan on Fifth. Eric, he… Can you just come? Please?”
“I’m on my way,” I say, snatching my keys off the coffee table. “Stay put, okay?”
