Page 27 of Falling for my First Crush

Maia didn’t collapse into my arms and declare her love for me, but she seemed grateful to have a listening ear to pour out her story to. Julius was just a jerk in general, and he lied to her about something stupid, and kept insisting he wasn’t lying. But the final straw, I think, seems to be that he called her “old” one too many times… even though she’s really not that much older than him.

When I found out Julius was dating Maia, I did wonder if the age difference would be an issue eventually. Not so much because I think there’s anything wrong with it, but I questioned Julius’s lack of maturity for someone so smart and put together as Maia.

“Tibby, come inside,” I call as dusk turns to darkness. I hear her bark at something, probably a squirrel, before she comes bounding toward me, wagging her tail. This just makes me want to keep her even more. She clearly thinks of me as her owner already.

Tibby comes into the house, shaking herself like she’s wet. That’s one of the little quirks that I love about her. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I slide it out. Maia’s name flashes on the screen, and I feel a flush of excitement.

“Hey, Maia,” I say as I scoop up the call. “What’s up?”

My voice is higher than I would like, but there is nothing that I can do about it. Luckily, Maia doesn’t seem to notice. She says, “Hi, Joe, it’s been nice weather lately, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah, I was just outside with my dog,” I reply, a smile crossing my face. She seems nervous, but I can’t figure out why.

“You have a dog?” Maia asks.

“Well, I’m fostering her for a short time. There was a fire at the animal shelter,” I say.

“That’s so sweet of you,” Maia says.

“Thanks,” I say. I flush, because it’s nice to be complimented by Maia. She never really complimented me when we were kids. Why would she? Do kids ever really compliment each other? I don’t know if they do, but we never did.

“No, it’s great,” she says. “Very heroic. I just didn’t know that you liked dogs.”

“My grandparents had a dog,” I remind her. “Elton. He was a golden retriever. You remember him, right?”

She pauses for a moment. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “He was so cute.”

I’m not one hundred percent sure that she actually remembers him. That’s okay, though, he was my dog. I remember him. I’m hopeful that she has called me for a reason, and this small talk is just her way of allowing herself to build up courage to say what she wants to say.

“So, I actually called,” Maia says, but pauses before she says anything else.

“Yeah?” I prompt.

“Yeah,” she repeats. “I was wondering if you might want to go out to dinner with me tonight?”

“Dinner, tonight?” I say. “Uh, yeah. That would be…great, Maia,” I try hard not to sound like my heart is jumping out of my words or that I’m about ready to keel over in disbelief at her request.

“Are you sure?” Maia asks. She sounds pleased, but also nervous.

“Absolutely,” I reply with so much enthusiasm, that I worry I sound fake.

“I mean, I just thought it would be fun to reminisce about our childhood,” she says, and my heart drops a bit. This isn’t a date. It’s just a friendly dinner, but still…she didn’t have to invite me out. That has to mean something. I won’t sink into discouragement.

“Of course,” I say. “Where do you want to meet?”

“There’s that Italian restaurant downtown,” she says. “What’s it called?”

“Little Italy?” I offer. “Isn’t that owned by Jackie’s friend, Marissa? Her parents, I mean?”

“Oh, yeah, I think you’re right,” Maia says. “To be honest, I never pay too much attention to Jackie and her friends. There are just so many of them to keep track of.”

“Well, I think Little Italy sounds great,” I say.

We agree to meet downtown and have a little walk around, so that we can talk about all our memories from childhood and high school. I have to admit that I’m hoping for some kind of nostalgic romance, but I’m not going to push anything. I want Maia to feel the same way about me, but she has to come to that realization on her own.

I shower quickly and change into fresh clothes. I’m staring into the mirror when Tibby comes into the bathroom. She sits down and tilts her head, like she’s contemplating this look on me. I swear it really looks like she has an opinion.

“What do you think?” I ask her. “Do I look okay?”

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