She’s insisting that she’s fine but she’s trembling. That’s like the dictionary definition of ‘not fine.’

What on earth is going on here…?

I mean, who just drops their cell like that? I guess everyone has clumsy moments every now and then, but that still doesn’t explain her obvious shakiness as she takes her phone back from my hand and smiles a little ‘thank you’ like she barely has it in her to raise the corners of her mouth.

She is so obviously not okay.

But what do I say? 

Saying ‘You look unwell’ will always sound like an insult, no matter how well you mean it, so I just slide silently back into my chair and try to keep joking, wondering if there’s a good way to cut this date short so she can go home and get some rest.

I want to start this over…

Ugh.

There’s no place like home.

Go to your happy place…

And we’re back.

“Butterfingers?” I ask, smiling warmly, and she just raises her eyebrows a little distantly.

“Um…yeah. I’m a little bit tired. Sorry.”

Well, that would explain a lot, I guess. 

She could have just said that. It’s not like I’d complain. It’s a reasonable point…

But would it sound rude to tell her we can reschedule when we’re here already?

Maybe that’s what she was worried about too. Rescheduling a first date would almost always look bad.

Sheesh. What I wouldn’t give for some kind of genie-in-a-bottle version of Honey to ask for some advice right about now.

It’s been too long since the last time I went on a date.

I just try my best to show a little sympathy, smiling my concern.

“Had a pretty early day?”

She opens her mouth a little, breathing out a sigh and a laugh.

“My next-door neighbor is an early riser.” 

Just that quickly, her smile falls again, and so does her gaze. She stares for a long time at her trembling hand resting on the edge of the table.

Does she not know I can see it?

Maybe this is normal for her?

I didn’t notice if she was shaking the first time we met, but…

It took me a while to notice with Grandpa too…

I bite my lip and smile as she continues to speak, albeit slowly.

That’s not the sort of thing you should probably delve into on a first date…

“We’ve got thin walls in my apartment complex,” Essence is saying, “but that doesn’t make a lot of difference anyway. She’s borrowing my fridge right now because hers is broken, so it woke me up around five…”

She trails off but then looks up again with a sort of uneven smile, her sharp eyes squinting like she’s staring into a bright light.

Ugh. 

She’s way too cute.

I find myself reddening slightly, and just laugh again, a little embarrassed by myself.

“It’s nice of you though,” I smile so she’ll know I’ve been listening, “I think a whole lot of people don’t want anything to do with their neighbors.” 

I wave my hand a little for emphasis, as she nods slowly like something I said was weird, “Ours are crazy…”

Her stare feels a little too intense, and yet it seems distracted at the same time. I feel like she’s judging me for something, but for heavens’ sake, I can’t guess what.

I have to fight that urge to laugh nervously, as my cheeks start to burn.

Help me…

Seriously. If only there was an awkward date emergency call line.

Cocoa, Honey, Ben, even Dad. Somebody. Please call me. I’d like to get out of here before I make a bigger mess of this thing.

I don’t even know what mess I’m making - or if I’m making it, how I’m making it - but at least if I had an excuse to leave, we could try to rearrange this date for another day, and maybe both of us could feel a little better and do a little better at this…

“Well…I didn’t mean that it was that big a deal,” she’s saying, kind of uncomfortably.

Did I do something that made her uncomfortable? I can’t think what it might be unless it was the compliment about the sunset earlier.

Still, make a note, I guess. 

“I’m used to waking up early anyway…”

“Ahh, angels always try to act like it’s normal to have a heart of gold,” I reply a little too lightly, with another laugh, “I basically avoid my neighbors at all costs. You’ve never known stress until you’ve lived next door to Jehovah’s Witnesses.”

She stares at me for a minute, before forcing a kind of tense smile like she doesn’t know how to reply.

And now my brain is just roasting me with recreations of lines from “Mrs. Doubtfire.”

Mr. Giang, do you believe you’re funny?

Alright, let’s try this again.

She’s tired. It’s not me. Nobody here is the problem. It was just a bad start.

Still, I’m starting to think I really should try to cut this short. She seems sick or something.

She’s back to staring at the table again, her left hand gripping her arm, but now I’m pretty sure she’s shivering, not trembling.

I guess I’m the only one feeling warm…

That’s…fine too…

This was just a bad start. It was just a bad start.

The waiter brings our plates, and I try to think of something to say as Essence picks up her cutlery hurriedly, and then hesitates…

“Are you vegetarian?” It’s a random question, but worth noting in the future, I guess, if I ever have a chance to ask her out on a date ever again.

She looks up at me quickly but doesn’t say anything but, “Hm?”

Why does it seem like I can’t say a single thing that will interest her?

I feel like I’m trying to play catch with myself.

No yeah, that’s totally fine. Call it exercise. 

“I was just wondering, cuz you ordered from the vegetarian section of the menu.”

“Oh…no,” she says with that same dazed energy about her, “I just thought it seemed like something good to…order…”

Al…right?

Again I resist the urge to laugh, pulling a strand of hair back behind my ear to distract myself, but it’s getting harder as my antsiness increases. 

Whatever you do, don’t start bouncing your leg. Do not check your phone. Just keep the conversation flowing.

But for some reason, all I can think of is the dinner scene in that movie me and Cocoa were watching last week where that guy was on a date with the chick who was secretly an android.

What was it they said about speech patterns? 

“Don’t fall for it, they may be beautiful, but you can always recognize an android. Listen to their speech. They never use collocations. Or talk like any human being ever does, honestly.”

Well, it’s not like I don’t like quirky…

But still…

Every time she looks at me, she furrows her eyebrows slightly.

I could assume she’s frowning at me, but instead, I take a risk.

“Do you think something cold would help your headache?” 

I offer the suggestion as brightly as I can, trying not to show any doubt, though if she’s really shivering and not trembling that was a dumb thing to ask.

Just keep talking, Nicky.

“This place makes some good frohitos.”

She looks up at me vaguely but her expression is unreadable.

“N…no. I’d rather just have water.”

So she does have a headache then.

I shouldn’t feel relieved.

But maybe this distracted aura isn’t just because I’m boring.

Still, will plain water make a difference?

“How about something sweet then?”

This doesn’t actually make me any less lost. All I can do is try to fill in the gaps in my lack of knowledge about how to act around this lady.

Sugar is what Honey always wants when she’s getting her “hangry headaches,” but Cocoa says sweet things make her headaches worse. My bag is full of both Kitkats and Cheetos for my, very sweet, scatterbrained sisters, but eating food from outside is always a no-no in restaurants, and considering that it’s taken me 20 years to make sense of the women I talk to every day, I’m not even going to pretend I can guess what will work for a stranger I can’t even have a normal conversation with. She might want…pickles and tuna or something.

“What do you like?” I’m saying randomly, “Chocolate cake, brownies?”

She seems to think about the question for a little too long before she answers, ‘carrot cake,’ almost like she’s sighing.

If you don’t like carrot cake you can order something else, Sugar.

But I don’t try to argue it. She said carrot cake, so carrot cake she will have.

Raising my hand, I manage to snag the waiter’s attention and order a slice of carrot cake for Ms. Walker along with a mocha lava cake for me, but I can’t help but notice the odd look the waiter gives her, as she stares blankly at the table again.

I feel defensive, though I don’t really have any reason to be defensive, and ask politely, “Do you have any suggestion which of your teas would be the best for a headache?”

When he answers lemon ginger, I order some of that too, just to be sure he knows my date is not crazy. Or in any kind of danger…

Jeez…

Okay. Okay…

She’s just not…feeling too well.

Honey has long complained that Rarey Bird has amazing food, but not the best service.

But today it’s bothering me more than usual.

When I inform the waiter with a bright smile that that’s all we need, he leaves quickly enough, but we’re definitely going to finish our meals long before our dessert arrives, especially if this silence continues.

I’m admittedly not enjoying mine as much as I’d like to, (Cocoa would hiss to hear that anyone could be ungrateful while eating oyster mac and cheese, but you try switching places with me, Little Miss,) watching Essence eat hers without any sign of relish, or even displeasure.

At least frowning or pulling a face would be a little less disconcerting than this complete lack of a response, positive or negative that she’s showing.

Well, maybe the dish is just mid. 

I admit, I’ve never gone to a restaurant and ordered mushrooms. I can’t begin to guess whether that would be a worthwhile use of my money or not.

I guess it would have been if my date enjoyed it, but so far, she hasn’t seemed to enjoy any portion of this, and I’m starting to slip into ‘Nervous Nicky’ mode, as the girls call it, and rambling, rambling, to try to fill the silence…

I know this awkwardness is only going to ease up if I do something about it.

But I’m trying to do something about it, and it doesn’t seem to be making a difference.

I really didn’t want to mess this date up. Especially when Cocoa and Honey were so excited about my going and are totally going to be asking me all about it when I get home tonight.

Either way, I guess there are still things to be grateful for…

Right now, it’s mostly just the fact that I didn’t tell either of them what Essence looked like.

If I did, they would have realized that I just ran into the girl of my dreams and successfully got her number, only for our first date to go completely up in flames, and I’d have to deal with them both trying to cheer me up, telling me it’ll be alright.

It will be alright, I guess. It always is over time.

But for now, I just need to try to play damage control to keep this from getting any worse. 

If I can at least spare her any additional awkwardness by hiding my own, we’ll be fine.

Remember when Cocoa asked, ‘Is it lying to smile, when you feel like crying?’

If we didn’t we’d be crying all the time, Sunshine.

No. Don’t be like that, Dominic…

I think this is just what you call ‘manifesting.’

I will come out of this date with my self-esteem intact if nothing else.