Tuesdays

  ***

  We talked on the phone a couple times over the next few days and decided that Tuesday night – one week from the last time we’d seen each other and two since our first real conversation – we’d go to the movies. She wanted to see this new science fiction supernatural-esque movie I’d never heard of. That wasn’t necessarily my genre of choice, but she seemed excited about it. And I was excited because she was excited.

  In the week leading up to our movie date I cycled through every emotion I could’ve possibly felt. It was intense. First, there was excitement. It came in waves and left my whole body tingling, like electricity coursing through my veins. Then, I was nervous. The typical butterflies-in-your-stomach was multiplied by about a thousand and I felt like there was an entire charm of hummingbirds ready to burst out of my chest. After nervous, came fear. A sickening fear that twisted my insides, shredding my soul to bits. I was afraid of messing up, afraid it wouldn’t go well and I’d never see her again. And, finally, I was back to excitement and the cycle began again.

  Eventually, Tuesday rolled around and suddenly I was feeling every emotion at once. It was so overwhelming that I wanted to hide in my room under a blanket. Either that or catapult myself into an endless void where no one would be able to hear me scream. I wasn’t sure which would be more satisfying.

  Bat, alas, I did neither.

  Instead, I got dressed – I had no idea what to wear. I tried on every clean outfit I owned before settling on the floral sundress I’d gotten on sale at the end of the previous summer. I slipped on my favorite sandals and hoped I looked okay.

  And I headed out to the place where we’d agreed to meet – outside the movie theater a few minutes’ walk from my house. She wasn’t there yet when I got there, which was fine, honestly. I was still nervous and needed all the time I could get to prepare myself. Plus, I was a little early. Well, maybe a bit more than a little. We’d planned to be there by six, fifteen minutes before the movie was supposed to start, and it was only a minute or two past five-thirty. I didn’t want to be late.

  To my surprise, she showed up not even ten minutes after I’d gotten there. From the look on her face, I could tell she was surprised to see me, too.

  “I like to be early,” I said.

  “Me too.” She smiled her beautiful smile and the two of us went to get our tickets. She wanted to pay for mine. Insisted on it, actually, said that it would only be right considering she was the one who’d asked me to come. I tried to tell her that that wasn’t necessary, however sweet it was, but she wasn’t taking no for an answer. I gave in, hoping I’d have the chance to return the favor sometime.

  After we got our tickets and a bucket of popcorn, we made our way to the theater to find seats. The theater was mostly empty. Only about seven or eight people were there before us and not many others showed up after.

  It wasn’t a bad movie. It was actually pretty good. Loren seemed to enjoy it, too. I kept looking over at her, watching her watch the movie. I couldn’t help it. She kept making these adorable little facial expressions whenever anything big or exciting happened.

  The credits started to roll and it turns out she was one of those people who liked to stay all the way until they were over. I didn’t mind. I wasn’t really ready to leave anyway. And when we did finally leave, she walked me home. The whole time I wanted so badly to hold her hand. It was like my hand was a magnet, desperately pulling itself to hers. I resisted the pull, though, too shy to make a move like that.

  That night I lay in bed replaying the date in my head. In my opinion, it couldn’t have gone better. And I fell asleep smiling.

  We ended up going on a second date exactly a week later. This time we played mini golf and ate ice cream – my treat.

  She beat me. By a lot, actually. Apparently she had a tradition of playing mini golf with her family every summer. And apparently she’d won every year since she was thirteen. So basically she was well-trained and I was a newbie. Not exactly a fair match, but I didn’t really care. No matter how competitive I normally was. I’d just have to find some other game where I’d have the upper hand.

  We sat at a table as we ate our ice cream. Mint chocolate chip for me. Cookie dough for her. We talked for a while and I began feeling the pull to grab her hand again. And this time I let it happen. Her hand was resting on the table, next to her half-empty bowl. I gently placed my hand on top of hers, reaching across the table to do so. It was soft and gave off a warmth that I felt radiating through me. I felt her tense up for a moment and, scared I’d freaked her out, I quickly let go.

  Embarrassed, I mumbled a quiet, “Sorry.”

  “No.” She smiled. “That was fine. Just wasn’t expecting it.” Her eyes rose to meet my gaze as I put my hand back over hers. We held that position for who knows how long. It was as if time had stopped and nothing else existed except this table and us. I think that’s the moment I knew she was special. I mean, she was special from the second I met her, but it took until that moment for it to really sink in. I would have been content to live in it forever and I prayed that she felt the same.

  We held hands the rest of the evening, only letting go when it was absolutely necessary. And even then, only for a short time. When I went to sleep that night, I could still feel all the places where her skin had touched mine. It was like her hand had become an extension of my own and now that it was gone, I longed for it to return.