Page 58 of ‘Til I Reach You

I laugh and lean back on my hands. Elliot sits next to her and David sits next to me. I turn to look at David and smile. He has a speck of paint on his nose and without thinking, I reach over and try to rub it away with my thumb. He stills, and I think that he may even stop breathing when I touch him. His skin is warm and his blush creeps into his cheeks.

When I realize what I’m doing, I pull my thumb away quickly as though he shocked me. We stare at each other for a long time. Maddie and Elliot’s conversation is background noise and I don’t even hear a word of what they’re saying.

David just looks at me, and I look back at him. “You have some paint on your forehead,” he whispers. I keep staring and he slowly lifts his hand, giving me time to stop him if I want to.

But I don’t stop him.

His hand touches my forehead so gently, like he’s afraid my skin will crumble if he’s too rough. He rubs the pads of his fingers against the paint and I just stare at him while he does it. His brows furrow slightly and his touches get the tiniest bit harder.

“I’m making it so much worse,” he mumbles. And I laugh, throwing my head back. He smiles and lowers his hand. “It’s all over your forehead now, Ana.” And that makes me laugh even harder.

THIRTY-SIX

NOW, WINTER

The next day I text David.

Ana: Do you want to try that date again?

And he responds faster than I would have thought possible.

David: Yes, now?

I laugh before writing back.

Ana: Tonight?

It’s Sunday, but I still find myself doing a few work things—answering emails—to try and distract myself. I call Maddie to tell her we’re trying a date again and she all but shrieks her excitement before apologizing for being insensitive.

I take a long shower and even blow dry my hair straight just to keep my hands and mind busy. I pace around my bedroom, going in and out of my closet trying to figure out what to wear. We’re just going to a normal restaurant for dinner, so it doesn’t have to be fancy. But everything I try on makes me hate my entire wardrobe to the point where I’m now contemplating just throwing it all away and starting from scratch.

I finally, after creating a huge mess, decide on high waisted black pants and a light blue top. I slip my black heels on and head towards the door, grabbing my jacket and purse along the way. I asked him if we could meet at the restaurant this time, just to avoid another possible breakdown. Of course, he kindly agreed.

As I’m driving in the silent car, I’m taking deep breaths and letting them out slowly. You’re not doing anything wrong, I tell myself. This is okay. It’s just dinner between two friends.

Be happy, I hear that whisper in the back of my mind. It sounds louder, clearer than it has in the past.

I breathe in for four seconds and out for four seconds.

I pull up to the restaurant and see David standing beside his car already. I pull into the spot closest to him, which is only three cars away. He walks over towards my car smiling. I open my door and step out before he can try to open it for me.

“Hey,” I say, a bit shyly, with a small smile.

“Hi,” he says with his warm smile and dimples.

“I made it,” I joke, but the words are serious and true.

“You did.” He smiles. “I’m so happy you did. I’m happy you’re here,” he says. And I take a deep breath and start walking towards the door, and he follows alongside me.

We don’t say anything as we walk through the doors and wait for the man working to seat us in our booth. We don’t say anything as we shrug our jackets off, laying them on the space beside us and slide in the benches to face one another. We don’t say anything as the waiter passes out menus and asks for our drink orders. He asks for a diet soda and I ask for a white wine.

When the waiter walks away, we turn to look at each other. We both look nervous. Unsure. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but he beats me to it.

“I don’t want this to be weird, I don’t…want you to feel any kind of pressure or expectation. We’re just two friends, having a meal. That’s all. Just two friends,” he says kindly. I look into his eyes, appreciating the words he chose to say, not realizing they were words I really needed right now.

“Thank you,” I whisper. He nods and smiles.

“Have you ever been here before?” he asks.

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