Page 63 of The Disasters of Dating
What are you up to?
Keaton
Nothing. I have everything packed and ready to leave tomorrow. But apparently I’m too efficient because now I’m sitting here with nothing to do.
I hate it when I’m too efficient.
Keaton
I know, right?
I pull my lip between my teeth, not certain I should do what I’m thinking of doing.
You want to hang out for a little while? It’s still pretty early.
Keaton
Sure. What are you thinking?
Ice cream???
Keaton
I’m not really an ice cream guy…said no one ever. Where and when?
I smile and a tingle of excitement works its way up my spine, making me shudder slightly. Knock it off, Pops. Friends have ice cream together all the time without it leading to something more. I’m being nice by giving him something to do before he leaves tomorrow.
There’s a place called Spoons on 126th in Draper. Meet you there in 45?
Keaton
I’m ordering my Uber now.
Cool. I’ll see you there.
Keaton
Not if I see you first! Sorry, my grandpa somehow came out in me just then. I’ll force him backinside on the car ride up.
I laugh as I put my phone back in the holder and put the car back in gear. I may not be hanging with my mom or Paisleigh, but this could still turn out to be a good night.
I pull up to the ice cream shop and sit in my car for a minute. Tapping my thumbs on the steering wheel, I drop my head forward. What am I doing? Every time I’m with Keaton, it feels a little less friend-y and a little more date-y. What is it about him that makes me put aside one of my hard and fast rules? No dating tourists. I’ve never broken it before.
A knock sounds on my window, and I jerk up with a squeak.
Keaton is standing at my door, one hand in his jeans pocket and the other lifted in a wave. He smiles at me, and I melt a little. I sit up straight and glance in the rearview mirror to make sure my hair isn’t all wonkadoodle. Although he has literally seen me at my worst. So I guess anything better than that is good?
I close my eyes and send a plea for good vibes into the universe.
I open my door. “You scared the crap out of me. I almost wet my pants.”
He grins but lifts his hands in front of him in a conciliatory manner. “Sorry. I was worried that might happen.”
I hop out of the car and close the door behind me. No skirt to worry about tonight. I chose not to change out of the pants I was wearing. In the eighties, they were called Hammer pants. But I prefer to call them harem pants. They are nice and cool in the late August heat.
He looks me over and smiles. Not a mocking kind of smile like some people give me but more of an appreciative kind. It makes my chest constrict a little. I rarely care what people think of me. If I did, I would have changed my look a long time ago. But for some reason, his approval brings a smile to my lips. I motion to the store. “Should we head in? I realize you’re only here as a courtesy, not because you like ice cream. But since I mentioned it, that’s all I can think about.” A mostly true statement. I have thought a great deal about ice cream. But it was mostly Keaton eating ice cream or, more accurately, Keaton licking his cone. I close my eyes and shake my head. What is wrong with me?
He motions for me to go ahead of him and holds the door open.
