Page 10 of Ten Years and Then…
Even better, when she got outside, the weather was perfect. There was a slight chill, just enough to really feel it, but not enough to be uncomfortable. She couldn’t have asked for better circumstances.
She checked her watch—the gold one her father had given her for her fourteenth birthday. The one she hadn’t worn since her high school graduation and only then because she knew he’d ask about it if she didn’t. But it just seemed right to wear it tonight, and she couldn’t even say why.
6:58 p.m. Would he be right on time? She didn’t have any idea—how could she have any real sense of his personality from a five minute conversation? But he was a CompSci major, and she assumed that made him the sort of person who would always know exactly what time it was, and always be punctual.
She saw something—someone—coming up the walk, just passing under the light post at the edge of the main quad, and felt her heartbeat speed up suddenly. Was that him now?
Daniel, 7:00 p.m.
At first, he didn’t see her. When he was almost to the western edge of the main quad, close enough to see Morris Hall clearly, Daniel looked up to the fifth floor. Three windows over from the left, that had been his room last year. The lights were out; whichever freshmen lived there now were out. For a moment, he wondered what they were doing. Were they at a movie? Having a meal somewhere off campus? Home for the weekend?
Then another question came to him. Did they know Nora? Pass by her in the lobby? Chat with her in the crummy, fire-trap kitchen on the first floor? Kill a spider in the laundry room while she was standing on top of the dryer and shrieking her head off the way he’d done last January for Collette Daniels?
He looked back down to ground level, and all those questions disappeared, because there she was. His pace quickened, and he tried to absorb every detail he could make out from a hundred feet away. She was wearing a dress, down to just below her knees. It was blue.
At maybe sixty feet, he could see that it was light blue, and that there was something on her head—in her hair. A flower, maybe?
At thirty feet, he could tell that it was definitely a flower, and he could see the delicate pattern of flowers—roses, he thought, but he wouldn’t swear to it—woven into her dress. Was woven the right word?
Did that even remotely matter? No, because all that mattered was, at about ten feet away he could see her smile, and those wide open, shining eyes, and there wasn’t anything else in the world that he cared about.
Nora, a few seconds later
It was him. He met her eyes, trying desperately not to seem like he was trying too hard. Nora had seen that same look staring back at her in the mirror often enough that she couldn’t mistake it for anything else.
“Hi,” she said.
Her voice seemed to jog something loose for him; his whole face relaxed, and he blinked a couple of times. “Hi. You look—wow, you’re beautiful. That dress—your eyes.” He took a breath, blinked again. “I mean, the color is just perfect, it sets off your eyes.”
She laughed. “Yeah, my roommate said the same thing. Guess she was right.” She reached out, took his hand in hers. “You ready?” Nora gave his hand a little squeeze, and she saw a shudder go up his arm.
“Definitely,” he answered. He kept his voice level in spite of the nerves he was clearly holding in check only with a ton of effort, and she couldn’t help but be touched. And impressed despite herself. “Is the Green Lantern still okay?”
“It’s perfect. Let’s go!” And she started off, leading him back towards the main quad. He followed along, squeezing her hand in return. It felt—she wasn’t even sure what the word was. Nice was woefully inadequate. Maybe she didn’t need the word, just the feeling. Maybe that was enough.
Daniel
They walked and chatted, and Daniel was thrilled just to be holding her hand as they made their way to dinner.
He couldn’t explain why that was such a big deal; he was nineteen years old, not an eighth grader discovering girls for the first time. He’d had a girlfriend before and they’d done—well, not that much, to be honest, but certainly a lot more than hand-holding. It shouldn’t have felt as important as it did.
He needed to stop overthinking and overanalyzing and over-whatevering, and just enjoy the moment. This funny, beautiful girl wanted to be with him here and now. She wanted to feel his touch, and hear what he had to say, and he had to trust it. Bianca had said the same thing, and she’d never steered him wrong.
Nora stopped suddenly, turned to stare at him. “Who’s Bianca?”
“What?” Had he said that out loud? He blushed, feeling the heat in his face and in his heart. “Oh, God. I can’t believe I—I’m sorry.”
She was smiling now, a gentle smile, but it didn’t quite go all the way to her eyes. “Sorry that you’re two-timing me?”
“Bianca’s my cousin. Well, we call each other that, I’m not sure if we’re actually blood-related or not, but she’s family. I told her about you, and she told me not to,”—he tried to recall her exact words—“get all caught up in my own head and not let you see the real me.” Now he laughed; what else was there to do? “I guess getting caught up in my head is the real me.”
“You tell your maybe-not-actually-a-cousin about all your dates?” Now her smile did reach her eyes, and she was patting his arm.
“Well, you’re the first actual date I’ve had since I started here last year, so, yeah.” Why had he told her that? He knew the answer instantly; because he wanted her to know him, even if it was embarrassing. Because that smile and that look in her eyes said that she wanted to know him. “We’ve always told each other everything, since we were little. She’s the best. There’s nobody in the world I trust more than her, and I’m pretty sure she’d say the same about me.”
They were walking again; he hadn’t even noticed until they’d passed through the main campus gate. “She was right to tell you not to be nervous. I’m glad I’m here with you.” He also hadn’t noticed the way she’d not only taken his hand again, but laced her fingers with his. He wasn’t noticing a lot of things, but he heard her words, and he believed them.
Nora
