I met my best girl pal, Daphne, the next morning at our favorite coffee shop following a series of frantic text messages that I’d sent to her after bringing Eloise home. As usual, she showed up early and waved me over from where she was already sitting and sipping an iced latte with a blueberry scone and a cinnamon bun on a plate in the middle of the table.

I ordered a mocha frappe with extra whipped cream and walked over to her.

“So,” she said, ripping off a large chunk of the cinnamon bun and stuffing it into her mouth, “what’s the big emergency that required sustenance from the best coffee shop on the West Coast?”

Grinning, I sat down across from her. “At least let me have my coffee first.” I sipped at my drink, a shiver running down my spine at the chill from the ice.

Daphne sat patiently across from me, her fingers teepeed together. “Are you ready now?”

“Yes.” I took my fork and dug into my side of the blueberry muffin. “So, last night I went out with Eloise and her friends.”

“Uh oh.”

“Yeah, ‘uh oh’ is right.” I relayed to her the story, from meeting Braden and dancing together, to Eloise’s slip up and the lack of a goodnight kiss I somehow now realized I had wanted from him. When I was done, Daphne leaned back in her seat, chewing on her straw.

“Sounds like a hell of a guy,” she said.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say? I barely know him. Knew him. And now I never will,” I said.

“That’s not entirely true,” Daph countered. “You could always go back to the bar and get his information from the bartender. I mean, the guy probably paid for drinks with a credit card, right?”

“True.” I pulled out my phone, surprised to see that there was a set of messages from last night that I hadn’t noticed before. “Except, I might already have his number.” I turned the screen to show her.

“That’s great!” she rubbed her hands together then wiggled her fingers in a gesture, asking me to hand the phone over.

“Nuh uh, Daph. Scooch. I wanna see everything you type before I even think about agreeing to let you send him a message.”

Reluctantly, my friend moved over and I slid into the booth beside her. My heart pounded in my chest. What were the chances this guy didn’t want to hear from me ever again? I’d clearly been just using him to scratch an itch but the chemistry I felt when we were dancing together was real.

Real enough, that is, for me to still be obsessing over it now. Add in my soberness last night and…

Daphne’s fingers flew over the keyboard, typing out a message. It was only when I leaned over her shoulder that I saw just how long she’d made it.

“Daph, no.” I reached for the phone but she snatched it away and shook her head.

“I know you, Ames,” she said. “If I give you back the phone, you’re just going to erase the message and leave the ‘what if’ hanging over your head. At least if I help, you have a chance of him responding because they’ll be something to respond to.”

I slumped back in the booth, sipping the rest of my coffee while I waited. When she was done, she turned the phone to face me and I scanned the screen. After a few minutes of debating and arguing over ways to edit the message so it felt more ‘me’, I sent it.

Braden, hey. I wanted to tell you I’m so sorry for what happened last night. I did have fun with you and I wish maybe we could start over? If you’re interested—and I totally understand if you’re not—meet me at Sweet Escape, the ice cream shop on Kibbard Street, at 3pm tomorrow. I hope to see you. - Amelia

Satisfied, I locked my screen and set my phone on vibrate so I’d know when he responded.

When Daphne and I finished our coffees and pastries, we walked over to the mall which was only a few blocks away. Since it was now late July, it was the perfect time to stock up on school supplies for our classrooms. The scent of fresh notebooks and the rainbow displays were filled with rows upon rows of pens and dry-erase markers that were every teacher’s dream for a fun, colorful classroom.

“Ames, I have to have these!” Daphne squealed, holding up a pack of liquid chalk pens in every color imaginable. “Can you just imagine? Gosh, I love supply shopping.”

I laughed. “Easy there, Daph. We need to think practically about our materials. Plus, when are you actually going to use liquid chalk?”

“It’s better than regular chalk, think about how much dust that stuff coughs up,” she countered.

“I’ll stick to my white board markers, thank you very much.” With a chuckle, I shook my head and pushed the cart down the end of the aisle. As we meandered into the next one, Daphne squeezed my arm and told me she’d be right back. I continued down the aisle, my eyes scanning over the shelves under the bright lights.

At the other end, I saw a woman standing with her hands on her hips next to a little girl in light up pink sneakers.

“But Mommy, I want it!” the little girl whined, sticking out her bottom lip.

“I’m not buying you the My Little Pony plushie,” the woman said sternly. “We’re here for school supplies, not toys. And you have more than enough stuffed animals on your bed already.”

“What about this?” Two little hands produced a pencil, eraser, and sharpener set branded each with the three main characters of The Wonder Pets.

The woman sighed, pushing her dark hair behind her ears. “Yes, you can get that. Put it in the cart.”

Her daughter grinned, placing the kit gently into the basket.

The woman’s eyes met mine, and I smiled.

“They want everything at that age don’t they?” I commented, having seen the whole conversation unfold. It sounded just like something I remember my own mother having with Eloise every year when we went school supply shopping.

The woman laughed, ruffling her daughter’s hair before the girl wriggled out of her grasp and ran to another section nearby. “Everything that’s not practical. Whatever happened to yellow no. 2 pencils and pink erasers?”

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I joined in her sentiment of laughter. “I know, right? They never want to be practical, and I totally get it. I was the same way.” My sister and I were always allowed one “special supply” as my mom would call it and that idea never went away. To this day, I still had to stop myself from buying every cool-looking set of pens or notebooks I came across. It made me happy to know kids these days still enjoyed the innocence of shopping for fun materials, even if they ultimately were limited in how many they could get.

We watched as the little girl came running back to her mom, holding something bright pink and sparkly in her hands. She stopped short in her tracks, turned around, then stomped back to return the item.

“I better go corral her before she tries to get me to buy out half the store,” the woman said.

“Well, good luck to you. And your daughter,” I replied with a smile.

“Thank you.” As she walked away, the woman shook her head, her shoulders dancing with laughter.

Daphne appeared by my side, her arms now filled with several things I knew neither of us needed for ourselves nor our classrooms. “So, what’d I miss?” she asked, setting the items down.

“Nothing really. And we’re not buying all of those things.” I picked up a set of sparkly gel pens from the cart. “Really, Daph?”

She shrugged, plucking the pack from me and tossing it back into the cart. “We’re teachers. Pens are a necessity.”

Before I could protest—partly because I really couldn’t, she did have a point—my phone buzzed with a text message. My heart leapt in my chest when I saw the reply. I grasped at Daphne’s arm.

“Daph! Daph, he responded!” I squealed, trying to keep my voice low.

Daphne’s brown eyes widened. “What did he say?”

My eyes scanned over the screen and the corners of my lips turned up into a smile as I let out a sigh of relief. “He’s agreed to meet me tomorrow. And he says he’s glad that I texted.”

Daphne jumped up and down, literally, in the middle of the aisle. “That’s really great news! See, I told you texting him would pay off.” She looped her arm through mine. “Now, let’s go pay for these items. Lunch is on me!”

***

July 25th

Ames, hey. Sorry I didn’t send anything sooner but things have been so crazy. I miss you and wish I could be there to go supply shopping with you. Remember that year you got the powerpuff girls lunchbox but Eloise hid it from you before the first day because she claimed she wanted it more? I’ll always remember that. Those kids are getting an amazing teacher.

Dex

He wasn’t coming, of this I was absolutely convinced. I sat at a table outside of Sweet Escape the next day, watching the cars whiz by the street. It was twenty after three and Braden still wasn’t here. He’d even confirmed by text this morning that we were still on for our ice cream date. I drummed my fingers against my knee then used my knuckle to check the time on my phone again. Three twenty-five.

Where was he?

Just as I was about to unlock my phone to send him a new text, something I was avoiding because I didn’t want to seem desperate, I saw him. A tall, dark-haired man emerged from a red Prius. Braden jogged toward me in a blue t-shirt and shorts. He waved when he saw me.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” he said when he got to the table. “I had to get a ride from my sister and then we got stuck in traffic because of a construction zone.”

I smiled. “No worries, I’m glad you made it. Shall we go inside to order?”

Braden spread his hands in front of him and walked with me toward the door, opening it for me. The chilled air from the ice cream shop greeted us and I shivered, wishing I’d brought a sweater despite the heat outside.

“Welcome! What can I get you?” the girl behind the counter asked. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen.

“I’ll have a scoop of Mint Chocolate Chip in a waffle cone, and, um—” I glanced over at Braden.

“Butter pecan, please, in a waffle cone,” he replied, pulling out his wallet.

I covered his hand with mine. “Let me cover this. My treat.”

“Are you sure?” He hesitated with his wallet hovering back over his pocket.

“Yes, I’m sure.” I dug out my own wallet from my purse and swiped my credit card. The girl behind the counter handed us our ice creams and we walked outside. “Thank you so much for agreeing to meet me. I usually am all for the idea that first impressions really matter the most, so when my sister said what she said right when we…um, anyway I’m really sorry.” Heat crept into my cheeks. Eloise had apologized profusely, but in truth it wasn’t her fault. I wasn’t honest about what I wanted in that moment with Braden, and he hadn’t been honest with me either. It seemed an unspoken dictation that the night in the bar was just for fun.

Braden sat back in his chair, crossing one ankle across the opposite thigh in a 4. “Amelia, I have to apologize as well. I wasn’t honest with you about what I wanted out of that night. I never expected anything to happen with us, but my first impression of you wasn’t from what your sister said. It was from the moment you commented on my pick-up line.”

I laughed, nearly dropping my ice cream. “You're lucky I like cheesy guys.”

“You’re lucky I’m not lactose intolerant.” He grinned. “So what do you think we should call today? Our second date?”

My tongue scooped up a large chunk of mint and chocolate, the coolness lingering in my mouth. “First official date,” I said. “Our initial meeting doesn’t count as a date. Plus, I think this is us starting over, right?”

“I’d like to consider it picking up where we left off.” He brushed a few stray strands of hair out of my face. “And this time I’d like to kiss you.”

“Hmm.” I tapped my chin teasingly. “Maybe I’ll let you.”

For the rest of the time, we talked about bits and pieces of our lives: how I’d just graduated college, how he was a landscape artist and also in the carpentry business. We’d both recently become single, although I left out as much about Dex as I could since he wasn’t exactly a boyfriend. He was also the official uncle babysitter for his sister’s kiddos.

Cars continued to pass by on the street and couples walked along the sidewalk past the shops. Soon I realized we’d been out here for two hours and I needed to get back home.

“Can I drop you somewhere?” I asked, remembering that Braden didn’t have a car.

“Sure, thanks. If it’s not too much trouble.”

I waved it off. “Not at all. Follow me.” We walked next to each other toward where I’d parked my car, letting our fingers brush even if only momentarily. Braden gently pressed a hand to the small of my back as he fell into step behind me while we let a few other folks pass.

Once at my car, he gave me an address and we drove off. He didn’t live too far away, in an apartment complex I’d seen many times. It was one that was consistently voted “prettiest views” in a landscaping magazine I’d seen at my hairdresser’s and I suddenly wondered if Braden was responsible given his job.

I walked him up to the overhang of his building where he stopped and turned to face me.

“So, I had fun today,” he said, running a hand through his dark hair. “I, um, I’d like to do it again sometime. Whenever you’re free.”

I smiled. “I’d like that. How about next Friday?”

“Perfect. That’s when my—um, that’s the next night I’m free.” He fumbled for his keys in his pocket. “How do you feel about bowling?”

“I’d say it’s right Up My Alley.” I waited for him to get the reference—it was the name of the sole bowling alley in town—to which he then burst into a fit of laughter that echoed against the concrete walls of the overhang.

“Good one. Six?” His blue eyes locked on mine as his fingers stroked over the curve of my jaw.

“Yeah, that works for me.” My heartbeat picked up the pace as Braden leaned in. Instinctively, I closed my eyes. Then remembering what ice cream he’d had, I pulled away leaving my hand pressed lightly against his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“What is it?”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “I really do want to kiss you. It’s just that I’m allergic to pecans and um, well, you had them in your ice cream so I…can’t kiss you.”

“Oh.” Braden kicked the toe of his shoe against the ground. “Next time, then. I’ll make sure I’m pecan free.”

“Yes, next time.” I was really looking forward to seeing him again. And maybe finally getting to kiss him with no interruptions. “I’ll see you next week.”

He waved to me and I headed back to my car. A successful day, I’d say it was. Maybe even the start of a brand-new relationship.

Things were certainly looking up.