The foliage is beautiful right now, and I know a nice secluded spot on the edge of the water. It’s not so secluded that it will feel creepy, but if there are other people around, we’ll still be able to have a private space for ourselves.

I open the rustic picnic basket that I found in the garage. I’ve already packed and repacked it twice. I’m not trying to be fussy, but I just want to make sure that I’ve gotten everything right, and that I haven’t forgotten anything.

On the advice of some of my female friends, I’ve decided to do a sort of charcuterie board. Eleanor insisted that it would feel lighter than sandwiches and cleaner than fried chicken. Besides that, it will fill us up. When I questioned the logic in that statement, Eleanor just shook her head at me like I was being dense.

I have some fancy cheeses, a crusty baguette, a bunch of different types of crackers, fresh fruit including strawberries, grapes, and watermelon, as well as some sliced meats and fresh pastries. I have to congratulate myself on how delicious everything looks.

In another bag, I have packed up a variety of beverages, including sparkling grape juice and a thermos of lemonade. There are also six water bottles. I know that I’m overdoing it, but I want to make sure that Marissa is comfortable.

My phone buzzes, and I see that it’s Angelo. I pick up. “Hey, bro, what’s up?” I ask in an even tone. After his weird retaliation-fueled rant earlier, I just don’t want to rile him up again.

“Where are you?” Angelo asks.

I sort through the extra small things that I’m bringing - nuts, olives, hummus, extra containers of fresh herbs for a pinch of seasoning here and there - while I try to decide how much I want to tell him. If I admit that I’m going on a date, then I know he’ll badger me, until I tell him who it’s with. If I lie and make something up, then I have to remember what I tell him, and as lies go, I might end up forgetting what I said. Not a fan of lying. Still - neither option is ideal.

Finally, I say, “I’m hanging out with a friend tonight.”

“Oh,” Angelo says. Then he pauses. “Can I come with you?”

“Sorry,” I say. “We’re heading out to do some fishing.” Shoot. I fibbed before even thinking.

“Cool, cool,” Angelo says. “I hate fishing, so I think that’s a hard no from me.”

I know how much he hates fishing, which is, I’m sure, why I mentioned it. There is no way that I would actually go fishing on a date, but we are going to the lake, so I feel like I’ll remember what I told him. I don’t like lying to my family, but I can tell what Marissa and I could have is special. I want to give it a chance before I let anyone influence us.

“Well, have fun,” Angelo says, sounding glum. I almost feel bad for him.

“Why don’t you call Mike?” I ask. “You could go to Jack’s.”

“Eh,” says Angelo. “They only have darts and billiards. That’s boring.”

“Only boring people get bored,” I say, parroting our mother.

“Ugh, okay, okay! I’ll call Mike,” Angelo says as he hangs up on me.

I know that he isn’t mad, but maybe a little disappointed. I feel bad for him for a moment, but it’s short-lived. I’m deeply excited to go live my own life - for a change. I shove my cell phone into my back pocket and pick up the small bouquet of flowers that I picked up at the flower shop in downtown Fox River Falls. I think Marissa will like them.

After I’m reassured that everything is how it needs to be, I grab a portable bluetooth speaker, so we can have music while we hang out. That’s one of the things that I’m most curious about: her favorite music artists. I love music, and if I can share some of my favorites with her, that would be great, too. These are all small things, but they feel huge to me; especially when I think of sharing them with Marissa.

Eleanor said that I should pack a frisbee. I was seriously skeptical; I told her that felt like I was hanging out with the guys, rather than having a romantic date. But she tartly informed me that Jim, her husband, had brought a frisbee on one of their first dates, and that was when she fell for him. I’m still not convinced that’s a good idea. We’re supposed to be getting to know each other, not getting into some weird competition.

Satisfied that everything is ready, I load up the car and head over to pick Marissa up at the library. I get why she doesn’t want me to pick her up at the restaurant or at her house. She still lives with her parents. They might recognize me, and that would throw all of our carefully laid plans out the window. I don’t think that there’s any stock in the idea that Marissa’s family is behind the food poisoning. I think it was just unfortunate.

Marissa is sitting on the library steps, reading a book, and looking picture perfect. She takes my breath away. Her long black curly hair frames her face, and the gentle breeze lifts and plays with it. She’s wearing a green dress, white tennis shoes, a matching green bow tied in her hair. Next to her, on the steps, is her purse and sweater.

I pull up to the curb and park the car. As I step out, she looks up, and I wave. She waves back, and I see a look of shyness cross her face. I hope that it’s just because this is our first real date, like a planned event. I feel like we’ve known one another always, even though there’s so much about each other that we have to learn. It’s more of a kindred familiarity… like, our souls have known one another since the beginning of time and are just finding one another at last, in the flesh.

“Luca,” she says, standing and gathering her things in one swoop. She waits until I’m at the bottom step, then she leans over and kisses me on the cheek. A wave of warmth spreads from my cheeks to my toes, and I think I could die a happy man right here, right now, on these library steps. I’m falling for her hard and fast.

“Are you ready to go?” I ask, trying to convey a calm and confident air, despite the tornado rattling about my heart. She nods, and when we get to the car, I open the door for her.

“Such a gentleman,” Marissa says, giving me a teasing smile, but I can tell that she likes the gesture.

As we drive to the lake, we chat about ourselves. I find that we have a lot in common, more than I had originally thought. Even though we’ve had dinner together before, I feel like our conversation is much more relaxed this time. We’re sharing silly stories from elementary school, when I turn onto the road headed towards the lake.

“So, what exactly are we going to do on this date?” Marissa asks.

“It’s a surprise,” I reply.