“Oh, it’s on the house.”
I snap my eyes to him. “Really?”
“Yeah. I just figured … well, I mean, since you …” Oh my god, Byron expresses awkwardness in the most adorable way. He sucks in his bottom lip, screws up his forehead like he’s searching for words on the ceiling, and the tiniest hint of blush reddens his bronze cheeks. “Since you’re kinda struggling with the job hunting.”
Oh, wow, he remembers! Yes, it was just yesterday, but still. “You don’t have to do that. Actually, luck was on my side today.”
“Really?” He leans forward, bringing his face close as his eyes brighten. “You found something?”
Tiny dormant buds of confidence bloom at once. “I did. The first job I wanted. I marched into the office of the boss herself and demanded she take another look at me. After just a few minutes: bam! She couldn’t resist. I was hired!”
“Wow. Congrats, Calvin!”
I grin. At once, I’m that confident version of myself again. “Y’know, you look so damned cute saying my name wrong, I kinda don’t even want to correct you.”
The brightness in his eyes falters. “Wrong …?”
“It’s Griffin.” I offer him a wink. “That’s my actual name.”
For a second, Byron appears mortified. Then he lets out a mirthful laugh that steals my heart away. “Wow! I had your name wrong? All this time? I’m such a klutz!” Byron’s voice squeaks in the cutest way when he says “klutz”. “Well, it’s good to know your real name now!”
“I almost considered a legal name change, but …”
Byron laughs. “You’re hilarious!”
I study him. The confidence flowing through my system right now is at an all-time high. It takes me into territory I have never experienced before—this feeling that I can do whatever I want, say whatever I want, be whatever I want.
It’s now or never. “Byron, I was thinking—”
“Hey, are you doing anything tomorrow night?” he blurts out first. “I’m going to a Halloween party, but all my friends don’t want to go anymore, so … I’m going dateless now.” He lifts his eyebrows with endearing hopefulness. “Unless … you wanna go with me?”
For a split second, the old me panics. He sweats and screams internally and shits his pants.
The new me puts on a grin. “Hell yeah, I’ll go with you.”
Relief crashes over Byron’s face. “Great! I can just shoot you a text with the details, if you give me your—”
I swipe a pen off the counter, take hold of his hand, then jot my number onto his palm. He bites his lip as he watches—and I take an extra second of pleasure before releasing his hand back to him. “I look forward to it.”
His smile deepens. “See you tomorrow, Griffin!”
Ten minutes later, I’m bursting into my apartment. Old me is back with a panicked and terrified vengeance. “Oh my god, what the fuck did I just do??”
6
Death Day Gift
“Dude, you gotta calm down!”
“I can’t. I’m freaking out.” I try to breathe, but it goes all wrong and I just gasp and choke. Great. Now I can’t even do a basic human function right. “Byron and I are going on a freaking date. Tomorrow! A Halloween party date!” I can’t stop pacing my bedroom.
“This is what you wanted, right?”
“I don’t even have a costume! What will I wear? What will I be? I should’ve thought this through better!”
West sighs. He’s sitting on my dresser with his legs dangling over the front, the candle burning next to him in a tiny saucer. “Look, you can do this, Griff. You just need to breathe. Take some breaths. Relax.”
“Apparently … I’m … in … capable …”
“I’ll talk you through it. We can role-play again.”
“That won’t work. Not this time. This isn’t a job interview with a set number of questions or whatever. It is a date … a real, actual, serious date. There are too many moving parts. Too many variables. Do I kiss him? Do I not kiss him? When will I know if I’m going too far with compliments? Do I play it cool? Do I tell him how devastatingly attractive I find him? Do I hold back? What if he’s more sexual than I am and, like, just goes right for it? Am I super lame if I try to take things slow? What if I’m the more sexual one and totally pounce on him and scare him away? What if—”
“Fuck, man, you are literally going to kill me again with all of this. Calm … the … hell … down, bro.”
I shake my head. “I can’t do it. I’ll tell him I came down with the flu. I’ll tell him something came up. I’ll tell him my grandpa died. I’ll—”
“You’re not telling him any of that crap. No one died. Stop all of this freaking out and just listen to me.”
I stop pacing my room and drop onto the floor by the foot of my bed, hugging my knees to my chest.