She nods at me, smiling. I feel my heart flutter faster each moment she stares.
‘Come on, tell us!’ Tini interjects with full bravado.
Just like that, the glass shatters and the pit in my stomach reopens. I look across at the bunched-up field of questioning eyes, Tini sitting smugly in charge at the centre. There is no ignoring it.
‘This is my twentieth date,’ I say as plainly as I can.
It’s clearly not plain enough; the group giggles and hollers.
‘Wow, Lina, number twenty! How lucky are you?’ Tini exclaims, clasping her hands together.
Despite the obvious sarcasm, Lina seems unaffected. She swivels her head to face me.
‘And where do I rank in this twenty?’
Her lip curls teasingly, eyes glittering with the challenge of her question. It makes my face flood with heat.
‘Number one, for sure,’ I say.
She breaks into a grin before she can help it. ‘Good, let’s keep it that way.’
The rest of the night with them seems easier with Lina by my side, no matter what snide digs her friends throw my way. They ask a few more horrendous questions and read some of my sentences aloud, but they eventually grow tired and my dates become old news.
The night grows darker and colder as the hours pass by, but we talk and drink through them nonetheless. By 10 p.m., we’re lit only by the streetlights and Lina’s cuddled so tightly under my arm that I find myself holding my breath to stop from moving. People drop off in dribs and drabs over time and, after a while, her final remaining friends bid us farewell. Then it’s just me and Lina, sat alone, cuddling in the cold night air.
‘This is nice,’ she whispers into my chest.
I can’t recall the moment that we progressed from a light arm around her shoulder to a full-blown cuddle, but I thank it profusely. She looks so precious, feet at the edge of the seat and knees tucked neatly under her chin.
I nod. ‘Yes, it is.’
She looks up at me, her hair rustling against my chin as she moves.
‘I’ve had fun. Have you had fun?’ she asks softly.
‘It’s been amazing,’ I say.
Her smile grows wider as her eyes flit from my face, then to the moon, then to her watch.
‘We should go,’ she sighs groggily.
The leather of her jacket brushes against my shirt as she attempts to pull away. Absolutely not. I bring my arm closer, trapping her in it, to which she instantly surrenders, giggling softly.
‘Why ruin this?’ I say in a whisper.
‘Who said anything about ruining it?’ She springs from my arms this time, effervescent as she stares back at me. ‘Walk me home?’
There’s a new twinkle in her eye. Less endearing and more dangerous. I grab my bag and we go.
. . .a rude awakening
We still good for tomorrow?
Earth to Amorie?!
Just searching for signs of life . . .
Send 2 wink emojis if you are OK
