Brennan stared at her reflection in the mirror, taking in her boring brown eyes, currently wide behind her glasses, and her hair, which was stubbornly refusing to stay tucked up in pins. She adjusted the collar of her dark maroon dress, trying to relieve the choking feeling in her throat, to no avail.
She jumped as the door opened and Ambreen trudged in, makeup smudged and hair escaping a messy bun after a long day of classes. “Brennan!” she exclaimed, brightening a bit. “What are you all dressed up for?”
Brennan couldn’t help but notice the slight emphasis on the word you. Of course Ambreen would be surprised to see Brennan going out; she usually saw her roommate holed up in their dorm room, curled up in a ball on her bed watching Netflix or tapping away at her laptop in her own fictional world.
She forced a smile. “I’m going out.” Out. The word felt funny on her tongue, but nice. It was nice to be able to say she was going out. She was going out.
“On a date?” Ambreen’s smile spread across her face. God, she’s beautiful, thought Brennan. Even in day-old makeup and a messy bun. Why can’t I look that good? I just look like a little girl trying to play at being an adult. She sighed.
“I guess,” she said out loud. “Yeah, it’s kind of a date.” It was a date. There was no kind of about it. Jonas’s text had said, Will you go on a date with me? Short and to the point, so there was no doubt that this was a date.
She’d almost said no. She’d almost let herself be too afraid to go. But the part of her inside that wanted nothing more than Jonas was louder than the parts of her that were scared, for one of the first times ever, so she guessed that she owed it to herself to try. Before the feeling ended.
“Anyone I know?” teased Ambreen. She was wiping her face with a makeup wipe—half-on half-off, like Mulan having a when-will-my-reflection-show moment.
“No. He goes to Wash U in St. Louis.” Brennan picked up her phone from her desk and scrolled through her photos until she found the one she was looking for. A sort-of-creep shot she’d taken of Jonas at the capybara exhibit. He was backlit by the autumn sun, which highlighted the angles in his face and his straight nose. She had almost texted it to him as a joke, captioned Capybara exhibit, Saint Louis Zoo, but she’d chickened out because WHAT WOULD HE THINK ABOUT THE FACT THAT YOU SNUCK A PHOTO OF HIM?? She showed the picture to Ambreen now.
“Oooo! He’s cute!”
Brennan forced a smile, although her belly flipped a little at the fact that Ambreen had called Jonas cute. To hear someone else say it just reminded her of the fact that other people knew Jonas was cute and that he could have any one of them instead of her (uncute, plain Brennan).
Outwardly, she smiled just a little. Ambreen stepped up behind Brennan. “Let me help you with that.” Before Brennan could argue, Ambreen had stolen the pins from her hand and deftly pinned up the unruly hairs in the back.
“Thanks,” said Brennan awkwardly.
“No problem,” said Ambreen. “You look really nice. What time is he coming to pick you up?”
“I’m supposed to meet him out front in ten minutes.” She clenched her fists. “I don’t know if I can stand to wait ten minutes, Ambreen. My stomach is already doing flips; I’m so nervous.”
“Do you like this Jonas?”
Brennan hesitantly nodded.
“Then just see. He obviously likes you, too, or he wouldn’t have asked you out on a date. And the way you’re dressed up, it’s a fancy one. He wouldn’t go through all this effort if he didn’t like you.”
Brennan’s face flushed with heat. “Really?” she said. “You think so?”
“I know so,” said Ambreen, and her voice was softer and more serious than usual. “You’re going to be fine.” Then she hugged Brennan, in one of those hugs that Brennan normally tried to avoid because hugs were awkward, but this time she hugged Ambreen back.
“Thanks, Ambreen,” she said. She stepped back and smoothed her dress, taking herself in in the mirror one final time. From her long-sleeved maroon dress to her black tights and heels, she was more dressed up than she had ever been around Jonas, and yet she was still worried it wasn’t dressed up enough to hide her. But her was supposedly what Jonas liked. Don’t be silly, her brain scoffed. You know that isn’t possible.
“I guess I’ll head out now,” she said.
Ambreen handed Brennan her coat. “Have fun!”
Brennan took a big gulp of the crisp February air, filling her lungs with a snap of cool relief—like being in the deli cooler times one hundred. She started toward campus, trying to slow her steps and her racing heart.
She looked up at the sky, where a few odd snow flurries were just starting to fall. She stopped for a moment, closing her eyes and focusing on breathing in and out. The cold stung her cheeks and the snowflakes landed in her hair. In that moment, in the silence on the pathway behind the dorm, with snow falling softly and silently past the lighted windows and the nearby streetlights, Brennan felt small. Like being under the stars. Like being in silence.
She reached the bus stop. This part was her idea. Why? her brain scoffed. You’re going to be confined to a bus, out on the highway, in front of a bunch of strangers. What if you get car sick? Throw up? Can’t get off?
But it had been the first thing that had come to her mind when Jonas had offered to come pick her up. It had surprised her—this new and strange thought. When had she started to worry about him? When had someone else’s anxiety started to matter as much—more, in the moment she’d texted, What about a complicated combination of foot, train, and bus?—as her own?
Two buses pulled up at once—one from Cougar Village (the on-campus upperclassmen’s apartments) and one from St. Louis. Brennan lost herself in watching the lights come on in the bus. One by one, the passengers stood up—gathering backpacks, adjusting headphones, offering the driver little waves and thank yous as they spilled out into the February cold. She closed her eyes, willing her heart to slow as she pictured herself getting on the bus and finding a spot. Sitting down.
“Hey.”
She smiled and opened her eyes, her heart continuing its breakneck pace. “Hey,” she said, a little breathlessly. For a moment they just stood there, looking at one another as the snow fell gently around them. Jonas was wearing a suit, a real black suit with a tie and everything, and shiny black shoes. Brennan felt a little underdressed next to him, just as she’d feared. The people leaving the bus streamed around them and off onto campus to do whatever they had come to do.
“You look beautiful,” Jonas stammered, leaning into his crutches, his face turning a little red. A lot red, at least for Jonas.
Brennan smiled shyly. “You too. I mean handsome. You look—you look nice.” She cringed inwardly. Stupid, stupid, her brain said. Shut up, brain, she told it.
“You ready to go now?” said Jonas. “Because when you’re ready, we’ll go. Just tell me if you’re not, and we’ll wait.”
“I’m ready,” she whispered, even though her stomach was doing flips at the idea of going to a fancy restaurant. She wondered if she’d even be able to get anything past the knot in her throat.
Then he was standing closer to her. “Are you sure?” he said. Brennan closed her eyes, swaying a little, the lilt of the other bus goers’ voices and the chill of the evening breeze wrapping around her.
When she opened her eyes she looked at Jonas; a few snowflakes had yet to melt completely and still adorned his hair like small stars in a dark sky. “Where are we going?” she asked him, not wanting to answer his question. What does it mean if I’m not?
“It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t even get a hint?”
“Nope,” said Jonas. “You’ll see soon enough.” He was silent for a moment before asking, “Are you nervous at all?”
She hesitated.
“Are you afraid you’ll hurt my feelings if you tell me?” Stupid Jonas, knowing her so exactly.
“No,” she lied. “I mean—” She let out a breath. “It feels stupid to be nervous when I know you, and I like you, and I’m comfortable with you, but I am nervous. I’m really nervous. For some reason, the idea of being in a restaurant with a ton of people—what if I mess up? What if I spill soup on myself? Or trip in my heels?” She laughed anxiously. Food poisoning, her brain added. But don’t tell him that or he’ll think you’re weird.
Jonas was quiet for a moment. The driver of the St. Louis bus opened his doors one last time. “You coming?” he called.
Brennan moved to step forward, but Jonas took her sleeve and tugged—not hard, not like he was forcing her to stay, but just like he maybe wanted to see if she would; thumb and forefinger, testing. She stopped.
“No, sorry,” Jonas said. “Thank you for checking.”
The driver nodded, closed his doors, and was gone.
Brennan started to feel hot and anxious again. What was going on? She tried to slow her breathing. In. Out. Anxiety is a wave.
“Do you trust me?” he asked her, switching both crutches to his left side and shifting his weight to his right leg.
“What are you . . .”
“We aren’t going to the restaurant.”
“W-What?” she stuttered. “No, Jonas. Don’t change plans just because of me. Did I ruin this? I’m so sorry for ruining this.” Stupid, stupid, stupid, her brain chanted.
“You didn’t ruin anything,” said Jonas.
“But we aren’t going—”
“I know,” he said.
“Is the date over already?” She nervously did and undid the clasp on the little clutch she’d brought as the bus into Edwardsville pulled up. “Jonas, I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he said, using his left hand to navigate the crutches while offering his right to her. “The night’s not over. Just wait and see.”
She stared at their hands for a moment, before taking a deep breath and taking his, holding on tight. “Okay,” she whispered.
The bus’s doors opened and they got on.