He shakes his head, grin undiminished. “No, he wanted to practice with dimensions and spacial awareness.” He turns the phone to me, but I'm not sure if it's supposed to be a hotel lobby or a fancy barn. But Adrian takes it away real quickly to message him back.

Murph sighs. He then looks at me. “Have you ever been in a relationship?”

I shake my head. “Nah.”

“Aw, really?” Adrian says, never looking up.

“I heard that. Stop it,” insists Murph.

Adrian looks at me and smirks. “Wasn't too harsh, was it?”

I shake my head. “I get worse from my flatmate.”

“Ah, yes. The infamous 'Steve'.” He looks back at his phone. “We'll have to invite him along at some point. I'm dying to meet him.”

No. Never. Fuck, I hope they never meet him.

“…why?” asks Murph genuinely.

“Why ya haven't met Steve?”

Murph shakes his head.

“I haven't dated?” I ask.

He nods.

I shrug. “Dunno. Never really met someone who made me think, ‘WOW, I need to spend all my time with them and only them, inhaling the ground they walk on’ 'r some shit like that.” Besides, kind of doubt anyone'd be into that with me.

Fuck. I look down and shove some chips in my mouth.

Without looking up, I nod to Adrian and say, “I know loverboy over there’s in one.”

“I am,” he says, still grinning at his phone.

“And you?” I ask, nodding to Murph.

Murph purses his lips and shakes his head. “No,” he says slowly, like it's a bad memory. “Most of the time, when I like someone, they get to know me, and that's what puts them off.” He pauses, and it feels like he meant it to be there. “I'm, not socially conscious, I guess, enough to know when to do things, so they don't end up liking me back, even if there was a chance they could.”

Wow. This isn't something we talk about in fucking public, Murph.

But then he laughs like everything he's just said was a giant joke, and keep going, “I think, like, one person tried to ask me out, but it just went...whoosh.” He swipes his hand over his head. “You should know.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

Adrian snorts. “Oh, yeah. That’s a thing that happened. What was it like, trying to flirt with him?”

“Like flirting with bricks.”

He nods. “Yep, sounds about right for you,” Adrian says.

“Oh, wait,” Murph says, eyes glancing up to the ceiling, “I did date someone, but it was for...like, a month. Ish.”

Adrian and I both lean forward. “Are you serious?” he asks.

Murph clearly isn’t sure how to respond. “Y...y-yes?”

“Holy shit,” I whisper.

“Holy shit, indeed,” Adrian says, looking at me with wide eyes. He looks back at him. And then moves his whole chair to face him.  “Details. I need details. Go.”

He begins rubbing his fingers over the edge of the table. “Like...the first time she asked me out, it went over my head, because I thought she just wanted to hang out more. The second time she was really blunt about it. And, and she was my best friend, so I said, ‘sure’.” Murph says it shrugging, but his eyes're big and sad. “But then she tried to kiss me and I, I guess she had tried to do it before, but she was my friend, so I got freaked out and then she got confused, and then a week later she broke up with me.” He clenches his jaw. “Stopped being my friend after that.”

Adrian looks at me. “Weirdly enough, it was both seriously anticlimactic and perfectly, like, you.”

That's a sad story. That's not what you should've said. What the fuck, dude?

And, apparently, Murph knows it.

Because he turns his whole body towards him and half-shouts, “I didn’t know the parameters of an adult relationship when I was 14! Cut me some slack!”

I lean back in my chair. “That’s the most eloquent sentence I’ve ever heard ya say,” I point out.

He turns to me. “I say a lot of eloquent things!”

“Except that.”

“Except that!” Murph announces. And then catches what he just said. “Wait, no. That doesn’t count.”

Adrian laughs.

I look down and stuff more chips in my mouth. Something's wrong, but I can't put my finger on it.

I guess that's what made up my mind to wait for them.

Weleave the restaurant close to seven. Wilton Road’s gotten busy inthe past half-hour, but we didn’t notice. Adrian's trying tojustify to me why Indiana Jones was a good trilogy and the fourth onewas shite.

Wedon’t really talk that much as we walk towards the theatre. Murphlooks worn out, and Adrian’s sweaty. Granted, the day has beenweirdly hot for March, so I don’t suspect anything.

Theseven-way intersection in front of the station is packed with cars,tourist buses, and trucks. It seems like every single London bus inthe city is parked by or in front of the station. The light’sfading and it actually kinda makes the intersection really pretty.

Westop right before Wilton road branches out in three directions. “Yousure you’re okay to wait?” asks Murph. I don’t know howmany times he’s asked me now.

“Doya want to wait to tell me about it another time?”

Heshuffles his foot on the pavement.

Adrianrolls his eyes and grabs Murph’s shoulders. “We’ll see you atnine-thirty. Ten at the latest. We’ll be by the theater’s frontdoors.” He burps. It has good bass.

“Ifigured.” I inhale. “See you guys then?” They nod, and we turnour different ways - me for the station, and them for the show.