The point was, I didn't owe him this — but I might like to try. I might like to find out. If nothing else, this first real, non-groomed attempt at dating might teach me a lot about myself, about what I wanted out of life and from a boyfriend.
Maybe we would crash and burn; who knew. But without putting pressure on dating to mean something world-shaking, I didn't much care.
"What are you smiling about?" Sahil demanded, giving me a fond, slightly scolding look. "Glad you got one over on me?"
I hadn't heard his approach, but I was happy to see him. "Hah." I moved into his arms and gave him a swift, tight hug. "No, of course not. I'm sure you were right. Everything you said. I just didn't want to see him so sad."
"Hmm," said Sahil. He drew back and gave me a thoughtful look. "You two are working through some things, aren't you? You seem to care about him more lately."
"Yes, I do. I think. It's easier when we're not always fighting." I hesitated. "He's asked me to date him. I might say yes. Not serious dating; not mates. Just finding out if we match up to something better when we're not fighting."
Sahil gave me a proud smile. "I won't address whether you should or not. That's completely your decision. But I will say, you've come a long way if you're even willing to consider dating."
I ducked my head at the praise, smiling. "I guess so."
I felt proud of myself, too. I was moving past the stage of feeling like I could never trust anyone but myself, my parents, and Sahil. Maybe I could trust some other people in some ways, some of the time. Maybe I could choose when and how far I trusted, without having to say "never again" about everyone I ever met.
"I haven't decided yet," I told him, so he wouldn't go around thinking I already knew what I wanted. "I'm just considering it."
"It's good to be thoughtful about your approach," Sahil agreed. His eyes crinkled up at the corners in a happy smile. "Whatever decision you make will be the right one."
"And the wrong one, too, probably, if you want to get philosophical."
"What?"
"I mean, most decisions have a good side and a bad side to them. Usually, they aren't all good or all bad, whatever you decide. Now, there's some things that are going to turn out horribly no matter what — if I decided to start doing drugs, for instance — but most decisions aren't so clear-cut. If I decide to date him, it'll be the right thing in some ways, and probably the wrong thing in others. Maybe it'll be great in a lot of ways, but it'll add pressure to the teams. Maybe it'll be horrible in many ways, but the sex will be great. Will the good outweigh the bad? That's what I have to decide."
"I'm sure you'll do just fine at it," said Sahil. He looked so hopelessly fond when he smiled at me like that.
"Sahil, can I ask you a question?"
"Of course. Anything."
"Why aren't we going on many missions lately? I know the other teams have been pretty busy."
His expression fell. "Oh — Charlie. Some of them — there have been a lot of cases involving child abuse lately. I didn't want—" He cleared his throat. "I didn't want you exposed to that when you've been doing so well lately."
"I don't think it would have set me back, but thank you for thinking of me, I guess."
"The right decision and the wrong one at the same time, eh?" said Sahil. "There are always things to weigh, as you said."
I nodded and then gave him another quick hug. I didn't like it when he looked so sad, with the weight of all he and Grant did sitting squarely on his shoulders. "But to me you're always right," I promised.
"Thank you. I will certainly try not to let you down." He squeezed me back.
#
Of course, when it came down to it, the decision wasn't very difficult at all. What did I really have to lose? Either it would work and something good would come of the complicated relationship Russ and I had, or it would fail and we'd both move on. It might add challenges to the team, but so did everything else we did with or against each other. His crush added challenges, but our fights used to add some pretty big challenges. If we could get through all of that, we could get through whatever challenges dating created. And the same with breaking up, when and if that happened.
If nothing else, this could prove we really weren't right together.
I thought about it for forty-eight hours, slept on it, mulled it over, but I didn't see any reason to hesitate. I wouldn't know unless I tried, and that was the truth of it. Finally, I sought Russ out to tell him I agreed. I felt excited, with a fluttery feeling in my gut, like I was a teenager going to my first dance.
I mean that in the stereotypical nervous-frightened-excited way, not that I was ever anything but petrified about going to a dance. I'd always managed to get out of it when I was a teenager, even if it meant faking an illness. But my parents had been pretty good about not forcing me to socialize after they'd found out how difficult it was for me.
There had been labels thrown about, talk of mental health conditions or sensory processing disorders, as well as "that's just how wolves are." But the labels didn't matter to me, only that my parents understood that some things were difficult for me and that they weren't going to push me.
"Russ?" I spoke kind of hesitantly, and he turned around quickly and met my gaze with a nervous expression. I hadn't finished speaking — hadn't even properly started yet — when his face lit up with a tremendous grin.
