Page 52 of Tongue-Tied

I nearly choke on my own saliva. “Are you serious? I didn’t know?—”

He barks out a laugh. “I’m totally not serious, and if you say the word, I’ll do a third and a fourth date with you, as many as it takes, until it sinks in how amazing you are.”

My heart is thumping hard because even if the dates are fake, him saying that makes me feel all tingly inside.

Still, I’m not convinced it’s the right direction.

“Let me think on it?”

“Yeah, of course. Have a good night.”

I smile to myself as we end the call. I can imagine Dex in his black slacks, shirt, and tie, serving the wedding guests with his usual charm, then standing back to hear all the speeches he makes fun of later. Half the reason he thinks romance is cheesy is because of his job. The other half is that his mom has had one too many failed marriage proposals and relationships. It’s almost like he’s fighting against tradition and needs something to believe in again.

Maybe I need to up my game somehow and flip the tables on him.

21

DEX

Halfway through my Community Politics class, we form our groups. The assignment we’re working on counts toward midterm grades, so the mood is serious.

My cell pings with a text from Austin that makes my pulse throb in a different kind of way. I think I’m cool with a third date.

I’ve been stressing ever since our last conversation, wondering if we crossed a line and there’s no turning back. Things have seemed slightly strained, so his text makes me feel hopeful that we’re still on the same page.

Awesome, I quickly type as my stomach feels off-kilter. Let’s talk after my class.

I’m about to start an afternoon shift, but definitely discuss later.

“What’s with the goofy smile?” Craig asks as he pulls out his notes. I hadn’t realized I was smiling, which is strange. Austin always makes me feel good, but the idea that he’s thought about us fake dating again leaves me feeling buoyant for reasons I can’t readily unpack. Especially since I don’t even like dating.

“Nothing,” I reply and store away my cell.

I throw myself into the group project, which centers around assisting people in impoverished neighborhoods to vote more frequently. “It would help if there were more drop boxes.”

“Or automatic voter registration.”

Once we devise a policy plan and prep for the presentation, class is over, and I walk out with Craig.

I part ways with Craig so I can head toward Austin and the coffee cart. “See you back at the house.”

“Don’t forget about Pizza Trivia night.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

I like that Poli House has group activities centered around the residents becoming more connected, and tonight is no different. The last game night included a couple of the guys’ girlfriends, which was fine by me. That was fun too.

There’s a lull in customers as I approach the coffee cart, and Austin is staring down at his phone, obviously reading something. He’s so engrossed that he barely registers Brandon walking up with two other guys to place orders. As soon as they leave with their coffees, I make my way over.

“Bruh, are you okay?”

His head snaps up. “Yeah, sure. Why?”

“Because you didn’t even flinch when a cute guy was in front of you. And I’m not referring to me.”

He shakes his head and smiles. “Guess I’m preoccupied.”

I glance at his phone. “Hot date?”

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