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“Oh, my brother. José. His nickname is Sé,” I explain.
“Oh, yeah that makes perfect sense.” He laughs, cheeks pinking slightly in embarrassment.
“No, I totally understand how it can be confusing,” I laugh. “What about your family?”
“My mom and my aunt own a few bakeries in Jamestown, my dad and some of my uncles drive the bread routes for the bakeries. My older brother works in a bookstore and my younger brother is a bartender.”
“Wow, that’s a lot of fun stuff,” I say.
“Yeah, we’re a busy family.” He laughs. The waiter comes then to take our orders. I order chicken fajitas and David orders enchiladas.
We chat some more as we wait for our food. I find myself cataloging different details about him. His dark hair perfectly styled and the way he bites his lip just a bit when he’s thinking of what to say or trying to remember an answer to a question. His light brown eyes glance downward when he gets bashful. His eye contact with me when I’m saying anything is both unnerving and endearing. He hangs on every word that leaves my mouth. A few times he brought his hands up together and rested them under his chin as he listened to me, nodding along with what I was saying. He traces the rim of his glass with his pointer finger when it gets quiet and neither of us are saying anything.
It makes me wonder if he is cataloging any details about me. I know that I use my hands a lot when I speak. I suspect he notices that because the only time he breaks eye contact when listening to me is when he follows my hands with his eyes while smiling. I know that I nervously sip at my wine at the same times where he touches the rim of his glass. I tuck, untuck, and retuck my hair behind my ear. If I’m noticing all of these things, I’m sure he is too. Unless he’s not insane like I am and overthinking everything. God, I’m turning into Madeline.
As we eat our food and finish the night, I realize that even in the quiet moments where conversation slowed, it never felt unbearably uncomfortable. It felt foreign in the newness of quiet moments with a new person, but it still felt good.
When we finish, he walks me to my car, not touching me at all. He doesn’t try to initiate a hug or even a kiss. He just opens the door for me.
“I had a great time tonight, Ana,” he says, his smile taking up most of his face.
“I did too, David. Seriously,” I say sincerely, standing in front of my seat with the car door between us.
“I’ll text you tomorrow?” he asks, hopeful.
“I can’t wait,” I say with a small smile. He lets out a tiny breath and smiles again. He says goodnight and I watch him briefly as he walks back to his car. He turns around once, smiling as he sees me still watching him. He lifts a hand and waves. I return it and smile as I get into my car.
THIRTY-SEVEN
THEN, FALL, THREE YEARS AGO
“You were standing right there,” Hayden says, grabbing my shoulders and maneuvering me so I am standing in a certain place on the slightly cracked and familiar sidewalk. I sigh, letting him have this moment. From his phone, the song “You Had Me At Hello” by A Day to Remember plays. “And I was all the way over here…” he yells as he runs away from me, skateboard in his hand. I stand there watching him run away from me, smiling, still amused by him even two years later.
“And you were standing there looking like a goddamn angel,” he yells. “You stunned me, and I lost control and my brain power!” He is shouting all of this as he jumps on his skateboard and starts coming towards me. “I was blinded by your beauty,” he yells, getting closer. I roll my eyes, but smile.
“I couldn’t stop myself and I crashed right into you.” He is still shouting and he’s now about ten feet away from me. I don't move out of the way or fear he’ll hit me. I’ve seen him skate hundreds of times since our first encounter so I now know that he does have the ability to control that stupid thing. I’m not scared about him crashing into me this time. He does a fancy stopping move that I now know is called a ‘nose grab’ and smoothly lands right in front of me, only about an inch of space between us. Then he slowly moves forward so our chests touch.
“And then you broke my heart when you walked away,” he whispers. I laugh and push him playfully.
“Still so dramatic, two years later,” I joke.
He smiles and grabs my face to kiss me. “I like this tradition, we’re going to come back here every year to this spot, on the anniversary of our meeting, and recreate it.” He kisses me again.
“We missed last year,” I say.
“A regret that I shall carry in my heart forever.” He sighs and I roll my eyes at him. He drops the skateboard and maneuvers it with his foot. “Alright, it’s been two years. It’s about time you learned.” He motions for me to get on the skateboard.
“Uh, no. Absolutely not,” I tell him.
“You can do it. Just a little bit!”
“I have rhythm, not balance,” I joke.
“I’ll hold your hand,” he encourages.
“I’m wearing flip flops,” I tell him, eyes wide.
“Yeah, that’s not appropriate footwear at all. But I don’t wear a helmet like my mom tells me to, so we’re not the most responsible people. It’s our thing.”
