Unexpected

Gabby the Dinner Guest

Elijah texts me the following week, offering a polite explanation as to why he thinks we're not the best match. I don't respond, feeling too slighted and embarrassed. The fact that I agreed to yet another date with Austin is evidence enough of my current opinion of myself.

I filled Zach and Catrina in, since they've become my natural confidants in these situations. It works out that way, since I'm sure either of them would just relay the information back to the other regardless. Neither of them are overly enthusiastic about the whole ordeal, but it's a more passive skepticism I'm met with since I've become more honest about my feelings. I don't blame them in the slightest, since a majority of the time my mind harbors a sort of reckless duality of hope and pessimism.

What I consider to be my voice of reason usually points out that I either won't gain much or worse- I'll be left with regret and another negative experience to add to the tally. The other voice says fuck it.

Consequently, another Friday night lands a cheery Austin on my doorstep, a bouquet of light flowers contrasted against his tanned skin.

"I told you to wait in the car." I hiss at him, swiftly shutting the door behind me and pushing him towards his car. When I'm safely inside with the seatbelt buckled, Austin hands the flowers to me again, the same grin as before stretching across his face. I carefully take them in my hands, looking at them closely for the first time.

"Do you like them?" He asks, seeming significantly more worried about my reaction to the flowers than getting caught on my porch by my parents.

"Actually... yeah. Just caught me off guard." I say, trying not to sound impressed as I study the white lilies now placed in my lap.

"They had roses, but I thought you'd like these more." He explains, an almost childlike happiness radiating from him as he watches me admire the soft petals with my fingers.

I want to find a reason to snap at him, to evoke a version of Austin I'm more familiar with, but I can't bring myself to. So I just lift the flowers to my nose and wait for him to start the car. He doesn't though, he waits until he can see the pleased smile force its way onto my lips as I take in the sweet scent. Then, and only then, does he finally turn the key in the ignition, the smallest hint of a smirk appearing at the corner of his mouth.

The conversation on the way to his house sounds much like our conversations this week, careful and deliberate. Without speaking about it, it appears we've both decided to give civility a try, to see if we can get along without constant arguments and flare ups. It's gone well enough so far, so much so that I can feel the others in the group anticipating the usual amount of tension or hostility between us that has yet to surface for more than a few moments at a time. Those moments, oddly enough, are self contained and more humorous than our previous completely unironic bouts. The tension, the temperament of us both, it's still there, but now it's confined to the invisible treaty we signed the day I agreed to another date with him.

When we arrive at his house, I can almost feel myself physically loosen at the moderate brick house that looks alike to the others on the street. No ridiculously specific dinner manners and tight smiles here, just Austin and his mom.

Because I'm still bent on keeping things smooth between us, I take his hand and let him help me out of the car. An all too persistent jolt causes me to look at our hands, still clasped against each other. As I'm about to shake it off, Austin rubs his thumb across my knuckles and meets my eyes with a faint smile. The small gesture sends a tingle up my spine, but I do my best to hide it. Although this week has been our most peaceful yet, I don't want to inflate Austin's ego more than I already have.

When Austin leads us inside, I'm immediately met with the aroma of tomatoes and garlic.

"Austin?" I can hear his mom call from the kitchen, the sound of dishes clattering soon after. An entirely new smile brightens his features, one of unabashed delight. He grabs onto my hand and gently tugs me towards the smell of dinner.