Icon of the Indecisive #3 of 3 (COMPLETE)

Chapter 5

Robbie told himself, This is it. You're really going to do this. He had it all planned out.

If my Tita Carmen (I was living with her while going to Ford River, because her house was nearby) happened to be home when he arrived, he would mention that his mother loved the cupcakes she made that he brought home from last time. He would ask for a recipe, or offer to pay for a dozen if she was into that.

He would say I looked beautiful in my dress.

Whatever she happens to be wearing. Just say it.

He was hoping I'd have my hair down, but he was planning to say he loved my hair "like that" anyway. Whatever it happens to be.

He would not attempt a cheek kiss in front of my tita.

He would first take my hand when he escorted me to the passenger side of the car. Just for a few moments, however long it took for me to get in.

The drive would last less than fifteen minutes, just enough to ask about school, my mom, my tita.

Dinner was actually going to be at Logan's house. Logan was in his basketball team but was also a culinary arts student, and Logan and his girlfriend Nica were making a four-course dinner for them.

Appetizer: Coquille Saint Jacques

Soup: Potage crecy

Main course: Boeuf bourgignon

Dessert: Tarte au pommes

It sounded very French.

Robbie wanted something simpler but Logan was all, Trust me, bro, she's going to be all over you after this.

Nica promised she was going to keep him in line.

Logan would make sure no one else was home, so they'd have the place to themselves. He would set it up so that there would be a small table inside the pool house. Nica would choose the place settings.

Nothing too cheesy.

Shut up and let the expert handle it, Robbie. This is not my first romantic dinner.

They would serve champagne, but not too much, because Logan's dad would notice if an entire bottle were missing. While waiting, Robbie would be ready to tell Emmental apart from Camembert. Just in case. Logan wrote the talking points on index cards.

During dinner he'd ask about my night out with Sol. And the movie. That he didn't want to watch it, so I could tell him the story without spoiling it for him. He'd ask how Sol was, how she was holding up, and would be ready to reassure me if I ever expressed my doubts again over my role in that breakup.

You're someone I want on my side, always.

He'd find a way to say it.

Logan said he'd have a playlist ready. Violins and shit. Nica would announce that dessert will be served outside, next to the pool. Then they would excuse themselves to start cleaning up.

He would take my hand. Remind me about his love letter. And depending on my response, kiss me, or hurl himself into the pool.

He was hoping he could get to kiss me.

First he would touch my hair, whatever style it happened to be, pretend to push it away from my face. He wanted a hand gently on the side of my face.

One or two? Just one.

Short kiss or a long one? Combination. Soft and quick, and then the follow-up would be longer.

As long as I'd allow.

* * *

I knew this—saw it, felt it, all of it—as soon as he stepped up to my tita's front porch and knocked on my door. Robbie didn't realize it, but when he asked the universe for courage and strength to do this, it was all going to me.

My power wasn't all that great yet, but over him, and his happiness...

It looked like a really good date though.

Seemed like a lot of fun.

"Hi," I said, as I opened the door for him.

"Hi," he said, not surprised. He was ready for me possibly opening the door for him. "You look beautiful."

It sounded familiar and slightly rehearsed, but it was earnest, and genuine. He really did think I was beautiful in this dress and any dress, hair up or down or sideways. He was saying it because he thought I didn't know, that I could only know if he said something.

Then I realized that this—planning a date, compliments, simply holding someone's hand—they mattered so much because they were all that people had to go on.

The best thing to do was reciprocate.

So I let him hold my hand as he helped me into the car. I marveled at Logan's family's beautiful house, and Nica's candles and napkins folded into bird shapes. Appetizer? Perfectly creamy scallop. Soup? Lacked salt, but in the best way. The beef? Tender and just melted in my mouth. Every conversation he started, I was ready for. I told him about Sol's sucky movie and he laughed. He told me about Risk class, and the paper he was writing, and the big beach party he was invited to, and if I would like to go with him. I said I would, but I'd have to ask my mom, because maybe she was still mad at me for flying off to Naga without telling her. But I would definitely go with him if she let me.

And then when we were led outside, toward the cute pastries and coffee perched on a tall round table near the pool, I wasn't nervous at all. He was; his thoughts were rushed and uncertain, but he was sure about what he wanted to do.

I helped him. I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward me. We were close enough that he should recognize this as the Touch Her Hair stage, but it took him a beat to realize it. But he recovered, and went back on script, with the hair, and then the hand against my cheek.

And then he kissed me. Short kiss.

And then I kissed him. Long kiss.

His jumpy thoughts, they slowed. Relaxed. Lingered a bit, enjoying what was happening.

He kissed me again. Long kiss.

"I really, really like you, Hannah," he whispered into my ear.

I didn't see that in his plan. He must have improvised it. It felt good, to be surprised like that.

"I like you too, Robbie," I said.