Page 58 of Give Me a Shot

“Jess,” Mo said.

“Hmm?” she asked, still looking.

The restaurant had excellent acoustics for reflecting sharp sounds off the wall and concentrating them where most of the diners were eating, including Mo and Jess.

“Jess?”

She looked at him.

“Do you really want to go, or do you think I want to go?” he asked.

She looked him up and down, tilting her head a little.

“Both,” she said.

“We can stay if you want,” he said. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do something different on account of me.”

“I think—” The group cheered again, cutting her off. She glared at them then turned back to Mo. “I think that’s what you’re used to doing. Sucking it up for the comfort or happiness of other people when sensory input is overloading you. Your body, your mind is just tuned that way. You aren’t choosing that. I’m notokay with the idea of you tolerating something that harms you on account of me.”

Mo’s heart was going a mile a minute. She’d used some very specific language. It went beyond “You don’t like being around a lot of people.” Or, “You don’t like loud environments.” It was more targeted, almost medical.

“How do you know that?” he asked.

She resettled in her seat, squaring her shoulders. She seemed to be bracing herself.

“I hope it’s okay with you that I did some research. You said that you’re a Highly Sensitive Person, and I wanted to learn about it so I’d be able to respect your needs,” she said. “I reviewed my notes before I came tonight.”

Her face was suddenly blurry. The noise from the other patrons that had been stabbing into his ears, back, and shoulders vanished in an instant. That she would take the time to research HSPs, to takenotesand study them…He felt like his throat was in a vise.

“Mo, I’m so sorry, I crossed the line,” she said suddenly, reaching across the table to take his hand. “I didn’t mean to upset—”

“No,” he choked out. “No.” He shook his head. He squeezed her hand. “It means—” He paused to clear his throat. “It means a lot that you wanted to learn more and took the time to find out.”

She squeezed his hand back, smiling at him.

—

Outside, with the rest of their dinner in to-go boxes, Mo walked Jess to her car. The sound of cars in the street, and the few people they passed who were speaking at a normal volume, let the tension he’d been holding ease away. So much so that he began to regret the fact that leaving meant the end of the date. As they reached her car, he spoke up.

“I hate having to end early,” he said.

“Me too, but maybe…Maybe we can do something else?” she asked.

Good idea, but what else? It was their first date, so he didn’twant to suggest going back to his place. He didn’t ever want her to feel like he would pressure her into anything physical. Not only was that disrespectful, but he would feel her distress in his own body.

“Wait,” he said, getting an idea. He pulled out his phone to confirm that they weren’t too far from Beacon Park. He didn’t know if they had benches, but he did have an old army surplus blanket in the toolbox of his truck.

“Up for a picnic?” he asked her.

She laughed.

“Sure,” she said.

—

Arriving at Beacon Park, they took a moment to find parking, but once they had, he tucked the blanket under his arm and they walked in, finding a suitable spot. The sun had set, but the sky wasn’t dark yet. There was a band playing on the small stage, but they were far enough away for it to only be agreeable background noise.

“Quick thinking,” she said as they settled in.

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