Page 92 of Derivation

“Sarai…”

“Maybe a six.”

“What can I do to bring that down to at least a four?”

Sarai smiled over at her and said, “Nothing. Just drive us wherever it is we’re going.”

“That’s it?”

“That, and maybe… hold my hand again?”

Gabi turned on the car and held out her hand, palm up. Sarai smiled wider, took it, and rested their now-joined hands in her lap.

“I didn’t say it in there because I was pretty nervous, but you are gorgeous, and I love you in this dress.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” Gabi replied. “I especially like the fact that it’s short enough that our hands are touching your bare thigh. You should wear more dresses.”

Sarai laughed in response, and as Gabi pulled them out onto the street, she told her, “Thank you. I’m down to a four now.”

“I’m glad.”

“Where are we going, by the way?”

“I planned a thing.”

“A reservation?”

“Yes, but it’s more than that. I was actually glad that you were busy with everyone last night because they only offer this a few days a week, and last night wasn’t one of them.”

“What is it, exactly?”

“I’m getting the impression that you’re not someone who likes surprises.” Gabi chucked.

“That would be the correct impression to have.”

“Can you maybe trust me, though?” Gabi asked, turning them onto the main street out of their neighborhood.

“I do trust you. It’s not about me trusting you. It’s that I like to be prepared for things.”

“You’re prepared. Well, I am, which means that you are because you’re going with me.”

“What do I need to be prepared for?”

“Sarai, just… look down at our hands, okay? We’re on a date. A real date, like eleven years after we met and I was so nervous around you that I didn’t know how to act. I’m on a date with the super cool, older girl who waited for me to take a million pictures everywhere, and even let me take a few of us together because I wanted to have something of you to look at when I remembered my weekend in Amsterdam. God, I remember being at those big Amsterdam letters, wanting to climb all over them, take a bunch of pictures, and send them to my parents, but I thought it would be annoying for you to take even more pictures of me. You somehow figured it out without me even saying anything about it, and you told me to take however long I wanted to. You took at least a hundred pictures and even told that kid, who wouldn’t get off the letter D that I wanted a picture in front of, to move out of the way.”

“You wanted a picture in all the letters so you could put it together into some kind of collage or something. I wanted you to have that.”

Gabi let go of Sarai’s hand, and Sarai worried she’d said something wrong, but Gabi just rested her hand on Sarai’s thigh and gave it a squeeze. Sarai closed her eyes and took a second to get herself together. She was pretty sure that she’d never been this nervous before, which meant that she didn’t know how to snap herself out of it.

“You can put your hand on top of mine,” Gabi suggested. “Or, if you want, you can put it on my thigh. I know I’m wearing jeans, so it’s not as good as what I get to feel right now, but…”

Sarai couldn’t help but smile at that and said, “Somehow, we’ve switched places.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were worried about being nervous around me then, and I’m worried about my own nervousness around you now.”