Page 67 of Confessions of a Virgin on a Dating App
Or would it…?
“So,” Devin looked up from his menu, plopping his arms on the table. “What do you recommend?”
“Well, what do you like?”
“I usually go for a gyro, but I’m thinking I should be more… adventurous. Although I’m not gonna lie, I don’t know what a lot of these menu items are.”
I knew them all, since most of them were dishes that my mother made for us growing up. But upon hearing the wordadventurous, I decided to test Devin’s culinary limits.
After all, our budding relationship was built on messing with each other.
“Adventurous, you say?” I raised an eyebrow. “In that case, I’m ordering the taramosalata as an appetizer.”
“What’s that?”
I gave a coy shrug. “I’ll tell you after you try it. And if you don’t like it, I’ll eat it.”
“Alright then.” Devin grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Challengeaccepted.”
The waitress came by to get our drink and appetizer order, and once she left, a stillness fell over the table that jittered my nerves. Devin was looking right at me, smiling like he always did, and somehow it tied my stomach up in knots. I was always nervous on dates, but this time it was especially palpable.What do I do next? What should I say?
“You alright?” Devin asked.
Shit.I always had a terrible poker face when it came to anxiety.
“Yeah. I know this sounds crazy after everything…but I’m nervous.”
Devin stifled a laugh. “Aw. No need to be nervous. I’ll tell you what: you tell me something about yourself I don’t already know. And I’ll do the same.”
I chuckled. Devin and I already knew about each other’s hobbies and passions through years of seeing each other at Critical Games. He loved roleplaying and card games, just like I did.
What doesn’t he know about me?
Naturally, that brought me back to my past, before I moved to Orlando. The thought of my teenage and college years made my stomach turn, because I was a very different person back then. None of my close friends, including Cassidy, knew about that version of myself.
“Well, back when I was in college,” I began, “my big thing was choir. I loved to sing; I took after my mom. I even did a few solo pieces at our concerts, and I competed in the state choir competition every year.”
“Wow,” Devin replied. “I’d love to hear you sometime. It’s funny, because I can’t sing worth crap, but here’s something not many people know about me - I can play piano.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. Years of lessons plus playing in my dad’s church every Sunday. Once I broke free of all that, I started learningsongs that weren’t just religious hymns. But I’m pretty out of practice. I really need to get a keyboard for my condo.”
I nodded, digging through my mental archives and wondering if I knew any public places with a piano for customers to use. Orange Blossom Coffee came to mind; they had an old one tucked away in the corner of their shop.
“Well, I want to hear you play. There’s a coffee shop downtown with a piano.”
“Only if I get to hear you sing.”
“Not in public.” My cheeks flushed. “I just sing in the car. And shower.”
Devin laughed. “I remember you singing in my car the night I drove you home.”
“That doesn’t count. I was way too drugged to sing properly.”
He shrugged. “It was still cute.”
The waitress arrived, placing two glasses of water and a heaping plate of pita bread on the table. In the middle of the place was a small dish with a tan-colored spread that had the consistency of hummus, but a slight pinkish tint.
