Get a grip, Ellie.
As he approaches the table, he is wearing those damn casual clothes again that fit him stupidly well. When I saw him this morning, I figured he would come straight from work, but of course, he has shown up looking as attractive as ever.
“No slacks?” Trying to get him to laugh—and hoping it masks my obvious attraction to him—I pull out my best disappointed puppy dog look as he walks up to the table.
“Unfortunately, not. I wanted to be comfortable, so you could get to know thereal me.” It’s nice that he jokes with mebecause it makes me feel like I can joke with him too. Honestly, there is nothing more boring than trying to joke around and getting nothing in return, so I feel grateful that Patrick has an actual sense of humor.
Noticing him holding the same notebook from before, I turn my phone to show him my giant list of questions. “So, you came prepared too?”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” He smirks, and I have to check myself to make sure I am not physically melting in my seat. Somehow, he has a charismatic air to everything he says, and my attempt at being unaffected falters.
It’s not long before we devour two baskets of chips and three cups of salsa making our way through the questions. Keeping it fair, we take turns.
“Let’s start off easy: Favorite color?”
Patrick says green; I say black.
“Favorite food?”
I say crab rangoons; he says ice cream.
“What can I say? I’m a dessert man.” I can’t knock him. Dessert heals all.
“Favorite TV show?”
He saysThe Office; I say I can’t pick a favorite.
“It’s like a parent picking their favorite child! I refuse to do it!” Patrick moves on.
“Where did you grow up?”
I say I’ve lived here my whole life; Patrick says right outside of Raleigh.
The questions start to build on themselves. “What made you move?”
“I came up here for college and stayed because the job market is better—and I like the faster pace of everything. My family still lives in North Carolina, but I’ve made a home here.” He counters, “What made you stay?”
The question catches me off guard so much that I have to think about it. My usual response for living here is ‘I like the seasons’ or ‘the colleges are good in this area’, but that’s not the answer I want to give him.
Digging deep, I find the truth. “I don’t love change. Actually, change scares the shit out of me. I like knowing where I am and what the good restaurants are. I like living with Nick and having someone I know I can trust. I like being close to my parents. I don’t see them much, but I like knowing they aren’t far. It freaks me out thinking about starting over somewhere completely new.”
It’s best to keep my current feelings about my parents to myself because I don’t need this to turn into an Ellie pity party. I wince when I realize that I've been picking at the skin on my thumbs, and now that I’ve noticed the stinging, its are all I can think about.
Keeping my hands in my lap, I continue my thought. “I know that a lot of people thrive on change, but I’m not one of them. And, I think I’m okay with that.”
I look up to see Patrick entranced from my confession; his silence makes me regret saying anything. I should’ve just said that I like the weather. He probably thinks I’m so fucking lame, but before I can spiral further, he breaks me from my thoughts.
“Thank you for sharing that with me.” The genuineness in his tone is abnormally comforting. “It really helps me understand who you are and how you approach things.”
Our conversation continues, but I make the executive decision that we should order food since we have barely scratched the surface.
We are at a point where the questions can go a bit deeper, and it is something we need to do. This is not just about being able to rattle off random facts about each other; we need to be able to understand how the other one thinks and reacts. There is zero judgment coming from Patrick, and it makes me feel like I can share anything. I am not nearly as honest with everyone else as I have been with him, but it’s nice that I can be.
This leaves me wondering if he possibly feels the same about me, but I snap out of that quickly. It’s messing with my head trying to figure out what Patrick thinks, and I need to stop. This is all just to get better at fake dating him. It’s not like we’re actually building a relationship.
He grabs a chip and casually asks, “What is your biggest fear?”
Coughing on my water, I try to find some words. “Geez, so we’re just diving in deep then?”
