Page 97 of Looking for Group
He closed the book and smiled, and Drew grinned back and waved, and then felt like an idiot because waving at someone when they were eight feet away seemed a bit much.
“Hi,” he said, wishing he could just do less-than-three, and not have to worry about whether he looked happy enough, or too happy, or if he’d be able to think of anything witty to say.
They trooped in, and Drew gave his name to the waiter. He knew it was just Pizza Express, but having to do the whole ritual of booking and being shown to your table made him feel like he was doing an impression of someone he’d seen on TV.5
The waiter led them to a table for two tucked into a little niche. There was even a flower in a blue glass-vase thing.
They got sat down, and Kit vanished behind an enormous menu. Drew stared at an equally enormous but totally incomprehensible wine list.
“So,” he asked, trying to sound suave, “shall I order the merlot?”
Kit’s eyes appeared over the top of his menu. “Um, do you want to?”
“I don’t know… I just thought it would be a thing…that we could…do.”
“Well, you can if you want, but I don’t actually drink that much wine.”
Drew had this horrible image of trying to drink an entire bottle of merlot on his own, and he wasn’t even particularly sure what a merlot was, other than the second-cheapest, most pronounceable wine they had. “Me neither. I panicked. I might have a Coke.”
Kit hid his face behind the menu again.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“Maybe a little bit.”
Drew didn’t really mind. It was sometimes nice to be laughed at. If it was the right person laughing. He tried to redeem himself. “I thought we could have the dough balls doppio to start.”
Except that just made Kit giggle again.
“No, it’s really good. We had it when I came here with Tinuviel’s parents.”
“The girl from your course? I thought you were just friends.”
“We are. She’s got those sort of parents. They’re academics. They’re really weird.”
Kit reappeared, his eyes glinting. “Did they order the merlot as well?”
“No, they had the prosecco, but it’s slightly out of my price range.”
“Oh.” He looked a bit flustered. “Were you going to pay for this?”
Drew wasn’t sure he’d actually thought about it, but in his experience, dates were things you paid for. Unless you dated Tinuviel, apparently, because something something patriarchal assumptions something something commodity model of sex something something. “I guess so. I mean, I don’t have to. I mean, um.”
“Well, how does it usually work?”
“Normally the guy pays, but I’m starting to see the limitations of that model.”
Kit thought about it for a moment. “Well, why don’t we split it?”
“That doesn’t seem very…special somehow.”
“I don’t see how the way you pay for it is what makes it special.” He smiled across the table. “But if you like, I could pay for your food and you could pay for my food.”
Drew was pretty sure that was a silly idea, but it seemed like the best compromise they had. “Okay,” he said. “So shall we start with the dough balls?”
“Do these dough balls have cocaine in them or something?”
“Actually, I think they might. I really like them. Also, it’s a sharing thing.”
