“So you just pick one of the cards.”

“What are the cards for?”

“It’s a sort of game. Just go with your gut and pick the one you want the most.”

“What if I don’t want any of them? Do I not pick?”

“Do you want me?”

…Can’t you please just play along?

***

This is one of many many times I wish I’d learned to be more organized. 

Honey would scold me like nobody’s business if she could see my room right now.

My bed and dresser are both littered with order forms, and I waste five minutes sifting between almost identical sheets of paper every time I need to cross-reference anything.

I really should make a spreadsheet. 

Note to self…

I turn down the music in my headphones until I can’t hear the lyrics, trying not to let my brain mix everything I’m reading with the refrain.

“This life is amazing…”

A little lower.

My mind repeats the chorus instead of processing the legalese.

How many times have I reread this same sentence without really absorbing it?

Okay. Will power. Let's focus.

Acknowledging that the person signing stands for and represents Blitz Mart in these transactions now and in perpetuity should complications revolving around these orders appear…

Yeah yeah yeah.

Honey’s text appears on my cell letting me know she got home safe, and I send her a thumbs-up emoji. 

I hope Miss Walker is home safe. I mean, conceivably her Uber should have gotten her to her place hours ago, but maybe she didn’t even go straight back.

Stop thinking…thinking about her.

I have…work to do.

Better things to do with my time than overthink.

I text Honey first, because an emoji alone might feel like brushing her off.

‘Don’t forget to close your windows before you go to sleep.’

I’m such an old man…

‘No! I wanna get a head cold so I can skip out on work tomorrow!’

‘You don’t have to get sick to ditch work,’ I joke, ‘Just say you have your grandmother’s canary’s funeral to attend.’

‘Oh, good one. I think I’ll try that next time.’ She texts back, with a little cat gif that says 'You’re like a genius or something.'

I smile, and then I wonder if I shouldn’t.

It’s a stupid thought, but I can’t help feeling guilty, like feeling any less than miserable is somehow being glib.

The frustration and the embarrassment and the disappointment all feel like pressure in my chest, soreness at the front of my shoulders - and I don’t want to think about it - don’t want to let these feelings be so overwhelming...

But is that running away…? From something I should be processing or sorting out in my head…

I feel…off.

I don’t want to unpack this.

I already know why.

I blew it. I really really blew it. And I’m not getting a chance like this again.

At least that horrible date is over. 

But it’s over. 

And I wanted more time.

I’m not childish enough to believe in anything like love at first sight.

But I also know people can’t be replaced.

Ever.

Even when I get over it, I never forget.

Ugh!!! It’s just...too much...

I rest my head on my knees and let out a shaky, slow breath.

I know I’m just spread too thin lately. Between the schedule changes and Grandpa’s health. Starting to think about when Grams was still here. Starting to wonder how much longer we have with Gr…

I don’t want to cry but I am, just a little bit.

Honestly, I’m not sure I could have put my best foot forward even if Miss Walker had been more receptive.

I want a do-over…

No, what I really want is magic powers. Some sort of miracle remedy that can heal Grandpa and fix our lives.

But if I could do tonight over, I would have tried harder.

I mean, I think I tried my hardest, but maybe I could have done more? Should have-

It’s so hard to balance ‘impressive’ with ‘casual’ and not freak a girl out.

Maybe I should have taken Miss Walker to a fancier restaurant. 

Cocoa suggested Red Garden but that felt like too much for a first date…

But maybe Rarey Bird was too little. I mean, it’s nice, but maybe not for a date. Me and Cocoa get lunch there like every Saturday.

What was I thinking by taking Essence out to dinner at a place like that?!

I totally jinxed myself-

And I know-

I know, I’m over thinking this so much, because I talked to Mom before the date. And sometimes I let her get a little too much into my head.

I should have listened to Honey…

But at least I didn’t tell her about the date, though I hate skirting the topic…

Maybe I should have brought flowers instead of baklava. It’s such a niche thing, and I didn’t even know if Miss Walker likes sweets. She sure didn’t seem to like the cake.

I guess…I have a…thing…for roses.

And it always does me dirty.

Flowers aren’t that original. Sweets aren’t that original and she did tell me ahead of time that most things don’t impress her.

I guess I overestimated myself.

Mmmf.

I can feel my cheeks turning red even as the exhausted tears seep into my pants legs and I’m drenched in the memory of tonight, all in flashes-

I shouldn’t let my thoughts fill with Miss Walker but…

Why did she have to be so perfect…?

“Hey.”

I look up slowly to see Cocoa sitting down in my desk chair, bouncing her leg anxiously.

“Are you absolutely sure you’re alright, Dominic?” she pouts nervously, putting her thumb to my cheek to smudge out one of the tear streaks. “This isn’t just one of those boy things where you pretend you don’t have feelings?”

I can’t help but scoff, heaving my shoulders as I stare down at my messy bed, “I have feelings, Cocoa. They’re just…fine.”

She frowns slightly as I smile, wiping my face off with the heels of my palms, “What is it Honey always says? I just need to sleep off the day I just had. I’ll feel better in the morning.”

“It’s been a pretty long day,” Cocoa admits with a sigh, “But…your date was...?”

“Bitter icing on the cake,” I grin, but then I try to take it back, wondering if that statement might be rude, or disrespectful to Miss Walker somehow.

“It was just…weird.”

“Cat lady weird? Or…crazy weird?”

“Would you be able to understand me if I said it was ‘nothing weird?’” I laugh through my own confused emotions as Cocoa looks at me like I’m crazy. 

“What on earth does that even mean?”

“It was nothing,” I say emphatically, holding my hands out like a politician, “Absolutely nothing. Cricket orchestra awkward silence.”

“Like she didn’t talk to you at all?” Cocoa frowns, and I know she’s thinking about one of those list articles about nightmare dates she reads to scare herself.

“Not quite perfect silence but it was like,” I laugh again, the discomfort rekindling as I try to make myself process the…I don’t even know what…that I just endured, “Nichole, I’m not even sure this woman has a personality. Do you remember that movie we saw the other week where the guy went on the date with the android?”

“Yikes, Dominic,” Cocoa looks at me sideways, crossing her arms. “I mean…burn.”

“Come on, Cocoa! I’m not trying to be mean, you know me,” I squint a little desperately, starting to feel more lost, just trying to explain myself. “But you have no idea what it was like. It was like physically unnerving sitting in her presence because it was so…”

I give up, feeling like I’m running out of words, or talking in circles.

Waving my hand, I try to start over with an analogy.

“Do you remember when we used to study programming and made really basic functions for animation that were just like slideshows between two different images? When she smiled it was like she activated her smile, rather than really smiling. Like, I asked her ideal type, right?”

Cocoa’s ears seem to perk up at that question, and I take that as an incentive to go on, shaking my head as she swivels back and forth in the chair without quite looking at me.

“I asked her what her type was, and she just answered nothing…like basic human decency, roommate stuff about equal exchange of workloads or something. No preferences about appearances, hobbies, height.”

She looks at me sideways again and I have to smirk, with a knowing laugh.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” I sigh, “But I asked and it was just…”

I motion with my hands again, not knowing what to say, and Cocoa puts her hand on my desk, watching her fingers drum up and down on the wood for a few seconds.

“Even when I asked her about hobbies and books and movies and stuff, she just said she did a little bit of everything.”

 “Maybe she was trying to keep an open mind,” Cocoa shrugs, “In case you liked something that wasn’t exactly her preference.”

Cocoa smiles a little, almost like she’s teasing, but I know she’s trying to be encouraging as she suggests, “She might even like you Dominic, and was trying to play it safe to avoid turning you away.”

Yeah, I wish…

“I’ve done the same thing,” she shrugs a little sheepishly, “You know I’m the worst conversationalist of all time on the first date, and the second date, and the third. Remember those double dates we did when you were with Eu…”

She stops herself so quickly I can almost hear her mouth shutting.

Nope. Not even going to think about that…

I just nod, to let Cocoa know I get her point.

I guess I should try to assume the best of Miss Walker, even if I have the realism to not assume it could have been anything more than good manners.

Nobody acts like that around someone they like, do they?

Then again, she said she liked carrot cake but ate it like I’d ordered her a plateful of packing peanuts, so maybe I should give up trying to guess.

“I just,” I stop myself, but Cocoa has already looked up at me, so I just smile my embarrassment with a little shrug, “wanted a chance to impress her…I guess,”

But how do you do that with a woman this impossible to read?

“Even if we could go on another date, this one went so poorly that I feel like I’m still at square one at best. I might be in negative territory. I don’t know a single thing she seems to genuinely like to try to work with.”

“Well, some things are universal, right?” Cocoa smiles jokingly with a superfluous princessy wave of her hands, pitching her voice up, “Girls like glitter and chocolate, and unicorns, right?”

“Hah. Maybe not all girls,” I laugh half-heartedly, “Miss Walker ordered carrot cake of all things.”

“Lunatic!” Cocoa opens her mouth, laughingly aghast, “Why would you eat vegetables for dessert?”

“I know right?” I laugh back, “And anyway, I wanted to try to do something that she hasn’t already seen a million times”

“Hmm Mr. Smooth,” Cocoa teases, and I just frown at her.

“Grow up and take this seriously, Little Miss,” I scold raising a pillow quickly like I’m going to throw it at her.

“Sorry,” she pouts, crossing her arms dramatically the way she used to do when we were little, and something about her expression makes me pause.

She barely seems to have aged a day since then, and yet. 

There are subtleties, the hint of a smile hidden in the frown that make me realize…

It’s been decades.

And we still haven’t changed.

She’s still my favorite angel. I’m still laying my own traps…

And falling in love with them.

Announcement

My romance novel "A Dozen Morning Glories" recently hit 1k views and it's 3 month anniversary. It's a tiny milestone, so why not have a tiny DTIYS challenge?

So rather than asking people to draw my female lead for this challenge, I'm asking folks to draw her toddler, Ayla.

Ayla is 5 years old, so I'll make this challenge simple with five rules:

1. No Ai art

2. Please maintain the integrity of her features. She's a little black girl, so her hair is coily, her complexion is medium brown and her nose is on the broader side.

3. You are allowed to draw her as a toddler, or reimagined into a teen/adult. You don't have to keep the outfit/hairstyle she's wearing here, but either way, please keep the outfit age appropriate.

4. You can submit as many times as you want, and share your pieces either in the comments of the related thread on the Tapas Forum linked in the description or on your instagram with the #ADozenMorningGloriesTinyDTIYS. On both my IG and the forum, I've shared a drawing of Ayla for reference.

5. UP to two winners will be selected.

The winner selection process will work like this:

1. If I only get drawings of Ayla as a toddler OR an adult, there will only be one winner. However, if I get art of her as a toddler and a teen/adult, I may pick one winner from each category.

And because I've gotta be weird again, the winner(s) will receive a drawing of one of their OCs as a toddler.

The challenge deadline is October 15th.