Hot Stuff

Crazy, annoying thoughts halted, I stare down at the screen.

Butterflies take hold in my stomach as I force myself not to think—just type.

Me: Uh, the prize, obviously.

THE Garrett Alexander: Are you calling me a prize, Lauren?

I imagine his grin, and a shiver runs down my spine. It’s not what I meant. At all. That would be forward and bold, and…I’m not there yet. But that response of his feels exactly right for a guy like him.

Me: Uh…not exactly…

THE Garrett Alexander: I think you are. By texting me, you’ve won a date with me, in essence making me the prize.

I smile. His confidence is downright effervescent.

Me: But will there be other prizes? Food? Diamonds? Some kind of carnival-style stuffed animal?

THE Garrett Alexander: For you? Absolutely. I’ll get on the phone right now to make it all happen.

Anxiety makes me freeze. Just completely locked up, I have no idea what to type. Time ticks on, and goodness, he’s going to think I died. Or that I’m weird. Or… Gah, I don’t know. But surely, he’s expecting some kind of answer. Why don’t I know how to flirt? Why haven’t I practiced?

Why didn’t I think any of this through?

Living the med school life really did screw me over for everything else but medicine.

I can save lives, but I can’t have a text conversation with a hot fireman without practically giving myself an ulcer.

THE Garrett Alexander: You’re freaking out, aren’t you?

My eyes go wide, and I type out a quick response.

Me: What? No. Why would you say that?

THE Garrett Alexander: You’re definitely freaking out.

Me: Stop saying that.

THE Garrett Alexander: Why? Because it’s true?

Me: Suddenly, you’re seeming less charming.

THE Garrett Alexander: Are you sure it’s not that I’m a little too on the nose?

Me: Shut up.

THE Garrett Alexander: Okay, okay. Can I call you?

My reply is off my fingers and on the screen in two seconds flat.

Me: NO!

The last thing I need is to have an actual phone conversation with him right now. I need the safe barrier that is text messages more than I need my next breath.

THE Garrett Alexander: I had a feeling you’d say that.

Me: You don’t need to call. We’re…talking right now.

THE Garrett Alexander: You’re right. That’s probably best. That way, we save the conversation for the date.

Me: The date?

THE Garrett Alexander: That is why you texted me. Isn’t it? The prize that is a date with me?

I roll my eyes, but I also laugh.

Me: Um, yeah. Definitely. To schedule a date.

THE Garrett Alexander: For tomorrow.

Holy hell, tomorrow?

Me: Tomorrow is, like, pretty soon…

THE Garrett Alexander: Exactly. That’s what I was going for.

Me: Of course. Me too. Obviously. Sooner is better. Best, actually.

THE Garrett Alexander: Great. So how about I pick you up at 7? We’ll get some dinner at Marlow’s.

Marlow’s is a fancy-schmancy French restaurant with world-renowned food.

Personally, my awkward self probably thrives a little better in a joint like Applebee’s, but I’m not going to question the choice.

Me: Actually, I can meet you there. I know where it is.

THE Garrett Alexander: Isn’t the pickup a part of the date?

Me: I’m not sure. The last guy I went on a date with was a New Yorker, and we lived in Manhattan. You didn’t really pick people up.

Truthfully, I didn’t date much in New York. But the dates I did go on, because a friend or fellow med student or coworker set me up, always turned out to be real duds. It certainly didn’t give me much incentive to keep dating.

THE Garrett Alexander: I pick people up.

I almost agree to let him pick me up.

Almost.

But then I force myself to stick to the boundaries I’ve set.

Me: I appreciate the gesture, Garrett, really, but I kind of have a set of rules I’ve sworn my oath to follow, and DO NOT GET PICKED UP FOR A FIRST DATE is number two on the list.

THE Garrett Alexander: A set of rules, huh? What exactly are these rules supposed to do?

Me: They’re a prevention tool. Lauren’s Rules for Not Getting Ax Murdered.

More like, Lauren’s Rules to Maintaining a Good Escape Plan if a Date Goes Bad.

But minor details.

Yeah, and you’re not prepping yourself for an escape from him; you’re prepping yourself for an escape from the date if you turn into a bumbling moron…

THE Garrett Alexander: HAHA! Wow. And they still apply, even though you’ve technically met me before?

Me: I’m afraid so. You can never be too careful.

THE Garrett Alexander: Well, okay. I can respect that. I have to know, though… If rule number two is to prevent dying at the hands of an ax murderer, what’s number one?

Me: “You can never be too careful.” LOL

THE Garrett Alexander: Well, then. I guess you’re right. Better just meet at the restaurant to be on the safe side. I’ll see you there at 7?

Me: It’s a date.

THE Garrett Alexander: Literally. ;) Goodnight, Lauren. I’ll see you tomorrow.