Flat-Out Celeste(Flat-Out Love II)

Aftershocks

There was nothing in her closet. There was too much in her closet. Celeste put her hands on her hips and scowled at the hangers. Justin had not told her what they were doing tonight, so she was unclear about what would be considered appropriate attire. Jeans? A hideous Christmas sweater with a pom-pom reindeer? A ball gown? She hoped not a ball gown, since she didn’t own one; and it was snowing right now, so heels would be horrific footwear. It was a good thing that she had the entire day to figure this out. A first date was not to be taken lightly.

And she was taking this anything but lightly. She was in a near panic. Figuring out what to wear was the least of her worries. Date etiquette was entirely out of her repertoire, so this evening was weighing heavily on her. It appeared that one could want and not want something at the same time. Matt would make some Schr?dinger’s cat joke were he here, but Celeste was not in the mood for amusing analogies.

Julie would surely be able to help, but Celeste felt somewhat ashamed of relying on a twenty-something with a full life and friends her own age. Plus, calling her would cement this date as a monumental deal worthy of a complete freak-out.

There was Dallas. Celeste thought about her. She was a good choice.



Celeste: Hi, Dallas. I hope that your winter break has started off nicely. I was hoping that you could help me with something.

Dallas: Hey! I’m coloring my hair green today! What’s up?

Celeste: I wanted to consult with you because I have a date tonight, and I do not know what to wear. He has not told me where we are going.

Dallas: Oooooh, a date, huh? Nice! Unless it’s somewhere really formal, which I’m guessing it’s not, what about that pretty pink sweater you have. It’s soft and fuzzy looking. Then just do nice jeans and simple jewelry. Be you! You’re always dressed so well, anyway, so nothing to worry about.

Celeste: Thank you. Yes, I think that pink top might be a good choice.

Dallas: Call me tomorrow and let me know how your date goes!

Celeste: I will do that. Text me a photograph of your green hair if you like. I feel positive that you will look very much in the holiday spirit. Many thanks for your assistance. I am fortunate to have a friend who is knowledgeable in such matters!

Dallas: And remind me to tell you about Zeke! God, he’s so super-hot. Thank you for sitting me next to him at your house! We’ve been chatting on Facebook and stuff, and I think he might like me. Maybe you can ask him? No, that’s dumb. But we’ll catch up on that tomorrow, okay?



There. She had reached out to a friend and received a good response. This was a positive sign. Despite the overt differences between herself and Dallas, Celeste liked her quite a bit. And it seemed that Celeste’s matchmaking maneuver had potential, so discovering that was a surprising bonus.

She retrieved the pink sweater from the closet and held it up against her chest, assessing her appearance in the mirror. Dallas was right; this was a good choice. As she was looking for a good pair of jeans, her phone dinged.



Justin: Who invented time zones, huh? It’s past noon and I’m just waking up. I’m going to UNINVENT them. Whatcha think about that?

Justin: And good morning. I made you a coffee with a picture of me jet lagged and groggy.



Celeste laughed out loud at the chocolate face that rested on milk froth in the picture Justin attached to his text.



Celeste: I think that you look dashing, but I am sorry that you are struggling to adjust to Eastern Time.

Justin: But have no fear, I will be caffeinated and alert tonight, okay? 7 still good for me to pick you up?

Celeste: Yes, that is fine. I am uncertain about proper attire, as I do not know what we are doing; but I have made a decision nonetheless.

Justin: I suggest a pirate costume. I’ll bring extra peg legs in case you lose yours.

Celeste: As you wish.

Justin: Also, a pair of wings. And a squash racquet.

Celeste: My anxiety level is rising.

Justin: Then no squash racquet. Better?

Celeste: Slightly.

Justin: Are you actually nervous?

Celeste: Yes.

Justin: Why? It’s just me. You know me. Nothing bad is going to happen. I mean, I might fall down or something, but YOU will be just fine. You need to trust me.

Celeste: I will do my best.

Justin: I have to go shopping, so as long as I’m not stampeded at the mall on this final Saturday before Christmas, I’ll see you tonight. Wish me luck!

Celeste: I have minimal concerns about your outing, but I wish you luck nevertheless.

Justin: #amwearingprotectivegear #picturewithmallsantaforsure



She felt a bit better. He was right. It was Justin. Justin with whom she had been emailing whom she had been talking to and texting on the phone, and whom she had seen in person a total of three times.

She sighed. Three was not many. Still, it wasn’t about the amount of face time one had with another, it was about the quality of the overall relationship, and she did believe that she and Justin had some level of connection. Or she was trying to believe that.

Life was getting better for her. Very slowly, bit by bit, she was allowing the walls she’d so carefully constructed to come down. Every move felt to be a most dangerous risk, but she was taking those risks, and they were paying off. The world might not be such a hateful place after all, and there was the faint hope that she might just be able to find a place in it.

Celeste abandoned her fretting and headed downstairs to tackle some gift wrapping. The dining room table was set up with wrapping paper, various bows and ribbons, tape, scissors, decorative bags, and tissue paper. Really, more materials than anyone would reasonably need, but Erin had become a big fan of elaborate gift presentation. Matt was coming over later to make use of the supplies. It was Celeste’s understanding that twenty-six-year-old males were unable to purchase their own wrapping paper and that they often had hidden hopes that showing up at their families’ houses would result in younger sisters taking over the wrapping of said gifts.
   



She finished affixing a piece of tape to the Come to the nerd side. We have Pi. T-shirt that she was wrapping for Matt. She had wanted to get him the shirt that read, Dear Algebra, Stop asking us to find your X. She’s not coming back, because under normal circumstances he would find it funny. However, now it felt inappropriate, given that Matt’s romantic life appeared to have stalled significantly since he and Julie ended their relationship. She still wasn’t sure exactly what besides distance, if anything, had come between them, but perhaps that was enough to keep them apart. Although it had been two years since they’d broken up, it still bothered her. Matt and Julie not being together felt all wrong.

When her text alert sounded repeatedly, Celeste couldn’t help but grin over her increased social network. Her stomach rarely dropped anymore when alerts came through.



Justin: Michelle! Hope you got home with no layovers. I heard the Denver airport cancelled most flights yesterday. Miss you already. Winter break will fly by, and Kevin and I will throw a party the night everyone is back.

Justin: And why didn’t you let me take you to the airport? I’d even remembered to gas up my car the night before. I heard you leave, but by the time I was fully awake you were long gone. I would have gotten up with you (even at that ungodly hour of FIVE IN THE MORNING!).

Justin: You left a shirt here, by the way, in case you’re looking for it.



Celeste read the messages over and over. Obviously Justin had texted her in error, but that did not ease the nauseated feeling that threatened to choke her. The phone shook in her hand.

Celeste focused on Matt’s present, and she finished wrapping it, carefully and methodically. Then she set his T-shirt under the tree and walked slowly up the stairs to her room. She took the pink sweater and placed it neatly back on the shelf in her closet and shut the door. The full-length mirror was in front of her now, and she turned away quickly. She couldn’t stand the sight of her reflection.

Celeste pulled off her sweatshirt and pulled the blinds shut. She crawled into bed, wearing her jeans and tank top. The silent tears came easily, wetting her face in seconds. Of course Justin had a life outside of her, a real life with girls at his school who were fun and functional. Who were normal. How she had deceived herself into dreaming that anything meaningful could happen between Justin and herself was nearly incomprehensible. This date tonight could not happen because there was no point. And based on those text messages, Justin likely already had a girl, one who was in his room early in the mornings, one whom he was missing already.

She rolled onto her side and pulled the covers over her head. It was fortunate that her parents were gone for the day at the outlet stores, so that she could be alone. Explaining her devastation would be impossible. All she could feel right now was the depth of her total inadequacy when compared to every other girl her age. She would never, ever be a girl who could hold Justin’s attention, and why he had even paid her any mind in the first place was a mystery.

Hours ticked by as Celeste lay still in her bed, her mind spinning. Justin had teased her. Maybe not intentionally, but he’d taunted her with the idea that maybe, just maybe, he could see beyond all of her strangeness. The things that she couldn’t control, but the ones that made up who she was. Even if he had, for a split second, liked her to some degree, he clearly had a college full of women with whom he could engage on normal social levels. Romantic levels. Probably sexual levels, if she was being realistic.

The bedroom darkened as the afternoon wore on. If she could just hold on, time would take her through the night, through the next day, the next week. This day and this awful misery would ease. Celeste knew how pain lessened with time. So she would just hold on. She would cease to exist until tomorrow, after the time for her date had come and gone. Then it would be easier.

Her room was virtually pitch black when she heard Matt’s voice. “Celeste? Are you in here?”

She didn’t bother to move. She couldn’t move anyway.

“Celeste?”

Through closed eyes, she saw the darkness lift a bit. He must have turned on the nightstand light. She felt him sit on the bed next to her. “Are you okay? What, do you have the flu or something else disgustingly gross and contagious? Do I need to begin a bloodletting routine or what?”

She wanted nothing more than for him to go away. As much as she loved her brother, he would not understand, and she was too embarrassed to tell him what was happening. Or to tell him who she really was: an utterly pathetic, despondent mess.

Matt put a hand on her shoulder and rolled her onto her back. She pulled away, and again he rolled her over. Celeste shoved him away, hard, and resumed her place on her side. She moved an arm over her eyes. “Leave me alone, Matthew.”

“Hey, what the hell’s going on?” He was angry now. Or maybe scared. Either way, she didn’t care.

“I forgot that you would be coming to the house today. Just. Go. Away.”

“Don’t yell at me because you slept through your date.”

“Get out of my room. Now.”

“No,” he said firmly. “No. You’re going to tell me what this all about. All I know is that I was downstairs happily gift wrapping and listening to One Direction sing a fanciful medley of uplifting Christmas carols when that Justin character shows up at the house, saying that he’s supposed to pick you up at seven.”

“You were not listening to One Direction.”

“Fine. It was Hillary Duff, but whatever. The point is that there is a dude in our front hall telling me that he’s been texting and calling you for hours, and you’re not answering. Are you supposed to go out with him?”

“Tell him to leave. I am not here.”

“Well, you are here.”

She didn’t respond. She could wait him out. He would give up and leave soon enough. Except that he didn’t. Ten minutes must have gone by when he said her name again. “Celeste. Please explain this to me.” She felt him shift on the bed. “I wish that you would let me do something. Do you want me to kick him out of the house? Did he do something to you?”

Another voice echoed in her room. Justin’s. “Maybe she’ll talk to me?”

Oh God, why had Matt even let him in the house?

“Do you want him to stay?” Matt asked.
   



Silence.

“Celeste.” Matt’s frustration was evident, but she simply had nothing to say. “I don’t know what to do here, so I’m going to have to give Justin a shot. Yell if you need anything.” His weight lifted from the bed. Knowing Matt, he was likely staring Justin down as he left the room. He might not be a typical alpha male, but Celeste knew that Matt was fiercely protective when it came to her.

Willing herself to become invisible was not working, it seemed, because she heard Justin cross the room and then felt him next to her. The sound of his footsteps even tugged at her heart. She felt him kneeling next to the bed. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day,” he said softly.

This was an impossible situation. If she was lucky, he would give up on her, get back in his car, and vanish from her life altogether. It was the only way to recover from this.

“It took me six hours, but I finally realized that I texted you by mistake.”

Despite herself, she nodded.

“And you’re upset about that.”

She nodded again.

“I think you’re misunderstanding what you read. Will you let me explain?”

It was best to get this over with. She rubbed her eyes and turned to face him. It didn’t matter that he looked distraught because that meant nothing to her right now. “I understand, Justin. I understand very clearly.”

He moved a hand to her face and brushed the hair from her cheek. The sorrowful expression in his eyes made her feel worse. He felt sorry for her. “I don’t think you do.”

“I understand that having a girl in your room during early morning hours—”

“No,” he said cutting her off. “No. It’s not what you think it is. Michelle is my roommate Kevin’s girlfriend. We live in a tiny dorm suite, and we each have our own miniature bedroom and a small common room. She slept in Kevin’s room that night. I was just going to give her a ride to the airport. Yes, she’s a friend of mine, but that’s it. I met her on the first day of college last year, and we’ve been friends ever since I stopped her from taking one too many vodka shots and saved us all from having to listen to ‘Don’t Rain On My Parade’ for the ninety-seventh time.”

Celeste sniffed. “I dislike that song.”

He smiled and touched a finger to her wet cheek. “Don’t cry. Please. You don’t have to hear it ever again.”

Celeste couldn’t smile back.

“Do you want to know a secret?” he whispered.

“Okay.”

“Your brother really was listening to One Direction.”

“He was not.” But now she did smile just a bit.

“Oh, but he was. And I think I saw him dancing a little. It was subtle, but there was some foot tapping and a few shoulder shakes.” Now he took both hands and rubbed his thumbs under her eyes. “Please don’t cry.”

“I do not think this is going to work out, Justin. I appreciate how kind you are being, but you should not have come here.”

He shook his head. “Why would you say that? You understand now, right? That the texts were nothing.”

“I do. But that does not change the inherent problem present. Even if Michelle is solely a platonic friend—”

“She is,” he insisted.

“Even then, I was reminded today that you are immersed in a crowd of young women, all of whom likely possesses much more typically alluring traits than I.”

“Celeste,” he said, “you are beautiful.”

“Perhaps physically, by cultural norms. But that only serves to make the non-physical parts of me even more unsuitable.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I am not like other girls. I recognize that, and I understand that my traits are incompatible with what is traditionally desirable in a romantic partner. I cannot compete. That is all. I will never be regular.”

Justin looked around the room as if searching for how to handle her. Then he rose from his kneeling crouch and stretched out on the bed, resting on his side next to her so that they were eye to eye. He took her hands in his. “You listen to me, okay? Listen. Yes, are you are a beautiful girl. Stunning, really. Anyone can see that. But that doesn’t really mean anything to me. I see past your beauty, and I find more beauty. The important kind. Don’t you know that? I’m doing something wrong if you don’t, so let me be really clear here.” Justin lifted her hands a bit and delicately kissed her fingers.

She could hardly breathe.

He looked at her again. “I am staggered by you. I am intoxicated by you. I think about you way more than I should. I want to get to know you as much as possible, but you have to let me. I mean, if that’s what you want. Maybe you think I’m a huge jerk, and maybe you’re done with me. So tell me that if you need to.” He kissed her hands again and peeked up at her, his eyes sparkling. “But please don’t, because I desperately want to take you out tonight.”

Celeste was sure that he could hear her heartbeat. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. But I’m afraid that I do not look very nice.”

“You could wear a garbage bag, and I wouldn’t mind a bit.”

“I was not going to wear a garbage bag. Or this plain white shirt. I was going to wear a pink sweater.”

Justin eased himself to sitting. “Then let’s get your pink sweater.” He looked behind him. “Closet or dresser?”

“Closet.”

He squeezed her hands and let them go, getting up and going to her closet. He returned in a moment with her sweater. “This one?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Justin slid a hand under her back and gently pulled her to a sitting position. She watched him, mesmerized, as he lifted up the sweater, lowered it over her head, and then smoothed out the fabric as she eased her arms into the sleeves. He took one of her hands back into his. “You look very sad today.”

“I am sorry. I am not an easy person.”

He pointed back and forth between them. “Pot, kettle.” He winked. “Are you sad just because of me, or is there something else?”

Celeste thought for a moment. “I am sad because of me. I am embarrassed.”
   



“Tell me why.”

Celeste dropped her head while she spoke. “I am embarrassed because things that are easy for other people are challenging for me. Going on a date with you should not be as monumentally terrifying as it is.”

“What can I do to make you feel better?”

Celeste had no idea. She looked at him, helpless.

“Would it help if I told you that there is no pressure here? We’re just going to go out and have a good time. Neither of us gets to have performance anxiety, okay? We don’t. If at any point tonight you decide that you want to go home, I’ll take you home. That’s it. I won’t be angry, or think less of you, or anything. Deal? I’m humbled that you would let me take you out when, as you said, this feels hard for you.”

“It is not your fault. I have issues centered around loss. Perceived abandonment. Solitude, which I both crave and detest. It’s too much to explain.”

Justin looked down and thought for a moment. “I saw a picture downstairs while I was waiting for you. In the front hall. It’s a picture of you and Matt…”

She finished the sentence for him. “And Finn.”

“A second brother.”

“Yes,” she said. “Older than Matthew. He died when I was much younger. I did not handle his death well. Nobody did. It is my assessment that my personality type, coupled with a high level of family dysfunction and a mother with unmanaged depression at the time, was not adequate to cope with losing Finn.” She couldn’t tell him about Flat Finn. Not now, not ever. It would be the ultimate deal breaker, revealing that she had relied on a cardboard copy of her brother to get her through even the most basic basics of daily life for almost two years. She could only expect a certain degree of understanding and tolerance, and Justin had already gone above and beyond. “Finn was my savior, and then he was dead. Some days the aftershocks can still be felt.”

“We all have aftershocks.” Justin stood up, pulling Celeste with him, and bringing her into his chest. She tucked her arms up between them, letting him hold her.

“It feels as though I must work very hard for everything. It’s not easy.”

“You’re in a war.”

It was a painfully accurate way to describe her state. “I am.”

“I understand that. There are battles, some greater than others. But they are worth getting through.” He held her tighter. “This is the fight, Celeste. You’re in the middle of it. I feel that.”

“Because you have endured your own?”

“Yes. I got through mine, and you will get through yours.”





Quite Beguiled

Celeste could stay wrapped in Justin’s arms forever, but eventually he pulled back a bit and lifted her face to his. “You ready to go?”

“You still want to take me out?”

“I want to take you out more now.”

“Because you feel sorry for me that I have a dead brother and formerly crazy parents?”

He laughed. “No. Because I like that you shared something with me. I feel closer to you. Don’t you feel closer to me?”

Celeste studied his face. “You often surprise me with your candor.”

Justin shrugged. “I spent a few years in therapy. I learned that I like being truthful.”

“I, too, have been in therapy. It was helpful in many ways, but it did not change who I am at the core.”

“That’s a relief.” Justin jostled her shoulders and then slid one arm behind her neck. “Let’s go to dinner, and you can tell me about it.”

She stopped them at the top of the stairs. “Justin? Thank you for being so kind to me, tonight and all of the times we have communicated. Quite often my experiences with being myself have resulted in rejection by others. I have tried to change who I am so that the average person will accept me, but that has not met with much success.”

“Did that red hair and bodysuit thing have anything to do with that?”

“Perhaps. And perhaps, I will also tell you about that over dinner.” She led the way downstairs, and even though the stairs creaked like crazy, she did not miss the sound of Matt scrambling off the lower risers into the dining room.

“IT’S BEGINNING TO LOOK A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS!” he half-sang, half-shouted. “If Christmas looks like mangled paper and shredded ribbons.”

“Matty?” Celeste stepped through the archway to where Matt was poised over a mound of crumpled snowman paper.

“Oh, hey, didn’t see you there.”

“You are not a good actor, Matthew, but I appreciate your effort to act as though I did not treat you atrociously earlier tonight.”

“What? Nah, don’t worry about. What you should worry about is whether or not I go insane and hurl all of this gift-wrapping nonsense into the fireplace.”

Celeste walked to her brother. “Matthew.”

“Fine, fine, I won’t burn it all. I’ll save the roll that has the naked Mrs. Clauses.”

“That is Dad’s favorite.” She touched Matt’s arm. “I should not have yelled at you the way I did. You were trying to help.”

Matt refused to look at her and continued to fuss with trying to curl a ribbon. “I didn’t do a good job, did I?”

“That was not your fault,” she said.

“He made you feel better, though? That’s all that matters.”

“This is not a competition.”

“I didn’t say it was.”

“No, you did not. But you sound flippant. Please stop making unsuccessful ribbon curls and listen to me, Matty.”

He dropped the scissors loudly. “What?”

“I’m sorry.”

He softened his voice. “It’s okay. I’m just in a bad mood. It’s not you. I really am glad that you feel better.” Matt stepped back from the table and looked at Justin. “You two going out for dinner?”

Justin nodded. “Sushi. I hear your sister has never tried it.”

Matt crossed his arms and smiled. “I’m liking you more and more. Which restaurant?”

“Fugaku on Beacon Street in Brookline. Have you been there?”
   



“I have. That’s a great place. Make her get the clam. Or octopus. Don’t go easy on her.”

Justin raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know; I may have already pushed her enough for one day.”

Celeste was trying to interpret how Matt was looking at Justin. Whatever that look meant, he still stepped forward, put a hand on Celeste’s shoulder, and turned to Justin. “Okay, then. Well, go have fun. Mom and Dad know you’ll be out?”

“Yes,” Celeste said. “And I have my phone. Would you turn off my computer for me? I believe that I left it on.”

“Yes, your highness.” Then, in what Celeste felt to be a very sweet move, Matt reached out to shake Justin’s hand. “Good to see you, Justin.”

Justin nodded. “You too. I’ll have her home by midnight.”

“Or eleven-thirty.” Matt said.

Celeste put her arm through Justin’s and steered them to the front hall for her coat. “Or midnight. Good night, Matty. I love you.”

“Girls… They’re impossible. Always pushing limits.” Matt’s voice followed them as they went out the front door. “Be nice, or I’ll return the Hello Kitty purse that I bought you for Christmas.”

When she was buckled into the front seat, Justin pulled the car out of the driveway. She could see Matt through the living room window. He raised his hand in a small wave, and she felt a striking pang of emotion. Celeste waved back at her brother.

He looked so terribly alone tonight. But maybe that was just her interpretation because she had been brusque with him. She would have to apologize again for that. It did seem to Celeste, however, that Matthew was not as happy as he had been when he was with Julie. Celeste missed them as a couple probably as much as Matt did.

“You lost in thought there?”

“Huh? Oh. Yes, I believe I was. I was just thinking about Matt.” She turned to Justin. “I do believe he likes you.”

“You surprised?”

“A bit. Not because of who you are, but because I don’t think Matt develops fondness for people easily.”

“Then I’m especially glad that I passed his filters.” He turned on the wipers to brush away the light snow. “Maybe you’ll come over and meet my parents? They’ll worship you; I already know that.”

“How could you know that?”

“Because some things you just know.”

“Yes. I think you are right about that. Some things you do just know. I would be pleased to meet them.”

“New Year’s Eve, maybe? They always do a fun cocktail party at their house. You could bring your family, too, if you want.”

“You have not arranged to spend that holiday with friends from home? I was under the impression that college students who returned home for vacations were interested in reconnecting with high school friends.”

“Well, to be honest, I didn’t have that many friends in high school. There’s not really anyone who I want to see.”

“But you have good friends at Barton?”

“Yeah. My roommate, Kevin, is awesome. Despite the poor introduction from my texts, you’d love him and Michelle.”

Celeste was not sure they would love her, but Justin had good intentions.

“You ready for your first sushi?”

She nodded. “Given that this is a night of firsts, I feel it fitting. I will be brave.”

“You’ve already been brave.”

She leaned back in her seat and gazed at the boy next to her. “I have a question for you.”

“Sure.”

“You have spoken very forthrightly about your struggles with distractibility. How you are easily scattered.”

“Yes.”

“But tonight, upstairs with me, you were very focused,” She paused. “On me.”

He smiled. “Important things can ground me. People who matter can ground me. It’s, like, I get jarred into clarity. Some of the endless static in my head quiets. It’s not as though I can never pay attention.”

“No, no,” she said quickly. “I did not mean to imply that.”

“Oh, I know you didn’t. You get me more than most people do. Your patience with me? It means a lot.”

“You have many different sides.”

“Some of them more grating than others?” he asked with a laugh.

“Absolutely not. I like all sides of you very much.”

“You’re the first person to say that.”

“Then our night of firsts is going very well.”

Justin ran a hand through his hair. “You’re calming for me. You can settle me somehow in a way that nobody else has. I can’t explain it.”

“That is exceptionally nice to hear.” The way he looked under the evening streetlights was too much. Celeste lifted a hand and brushed the back of her fingers against his cheek.

Justin was quiet for a minute. “I didn’t like seeing you upset tonight.” He tipped his head into her hand.

“You made it better,” she said. “You fixed me.”

“We can only fix ourselves.” He braked at a red light and turned to her. “I was just there to support you while you did that.”

He let her stroke her hand over his skin, lightly touching his hair. She was so unused to physical contact of this sort—much less wanting it—that she was undeniably entranced. It was one thing to snuggle with Julie on the couch when she was younger, or loop her arms though Matt’s when they walked. But this? This was an entirely different category of touch. Celeste let her hand trail down to the back of his neck before she felt obligated to pull away.

“Don’t… don’t stop. I mean, unless you want to. It’s just… That felt good.”

Without speaking, she moved her hand to the top of his arm, to his shoulder, settling again to the soft skin that peeked out from his sweatshirt.

Justin parked the car on a side street off of Beacon in Coolidge Corner. She let him open the door for her because he seemed to like doing that. As they walked the short block through the soft snow, her hand falling naturally into his, she realized something.

“Hey, Justin?”
   



“Hey, Celeste?”

“I do not feel scared anymore.”

“Neither do I.”

So they ate sushi.

Justin slid into the seat next to her, saying, “I get to be closer to you this way. Is that all right?”

She touched the menu that sat on her plate. “Yes.”

“And,” he continued as he draped an arm over her shoulder. “This all right, too?”

Nodding was all that she could manage.

He moved the menu between them and opened it up. “We’re going to order one of everything—and extra clam just to please your brother—but we can look at what they have anyway.”

“You have quite the appetite.”

“Fine, we won’t really order one of everything, but it’s the thought that counts.”

“I think that you may need to choose our selections,” she said as she scanned the menu. “I have no idea where to begin. I will rely on you for recommendations.”

Justin walked her through the menu, moving his fingers over the pages, describing different fish for her and asking what sounded good. She was fairly sure that she missed half of what he said because having his arm over her shoulder now caused her to be the one with significant attention issues, but she nodded and otherwise responded when she could. He never took his arm away from holding her.

Later, a colorful selection arrived, and plate after plate of dumplings, tempura, sushi, sashimi, maki, none of which Celeste could have identified on her own. There were vinegar sauces, spicy add-ons, and sweet soy. And while her taste buds danced in reaction to so many explosive new flavors, she listened to Justin. As much as she had enjoyed their many emails over the past few months, she was quickly learning that the sound of his voice had a powerfully wonderful effect on her. It might do well for her to become more comfortable talking on the phone.

“The way you speak, Justin, I find it quite beguiling.”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel as though I might well be able to listen to you all night. There is a pleasing quality about your phrasing, your word choices, the intonation and animation in your speech. It captures me.”

“Really? That’s particularly complimentary considering that I had a horrible stutter when I was a kid.”

“You did? I would not have guessed.”

“Oh God, it was awful. I could hear what I wanted to say in my head, but delivering it was an entirely different matter. Some words were worse than others. It only added to everyone’s impatience with me. Nobody wanted to wait for me ask yet another question. I was that kid, you know? The one who followed every question with another question. It drove people nuts, but I wanted answers and explanations. Why is it raining? But why do the clouds do that? But why some clouds and not others? And my poor parents. Why do I have to go to sleep now? But why do you say so? What happens if I’m tired tomorrow? Why can’t I read another book? Why is this book square and others are rectangular? Why is the caterpillar so very hungry and where did he find all of those random foods just scattered in the middle of nowhere? There was no end to my questions.”

“You were curious. That is a fine quality and indicative of intelligence.”

“Positive rephrasing. I like it.”

“I feel confident that I would have liked your many questions and your stutter because I am sure that you pulled off both with very sharp style.”

Justin raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “I have no idea what to make of you, Celeste Watkins.”

“Oh.” She could feel her body tense.

He rubbed her shoulder. “Hey, easy. I mean that in the most complimentary way.”

“Oh,” she said again. But this time she had to restrain herself from jumping out of her seat with happiness. “Thank you.”

When the bill came, Celeste tried very hard to convince Justin to let her pay for dinner. When he vehemently refused, she tried to get him to agree to split it. “My father was insistent that he treat us to dinner. He dramatically shoved money at me and said that the Watkins family would like to thank you for—”

“Absolutely not. You tell your father that there is no way that I am letting anyone else but me pay for your first date. But say that with lots of respect and stuff.” He winked. “Now, that’s enough of that. We have somewhere to be.” He checked the time on his phone. “Yeah, we need to scoot.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“You are not going to tell me?”

He led them through the busy restaurant to the door. “Can you trust me?”

“I believe that I can.”

“Okay. I’m the one who should be nervous, not you. What if you hate it? What if you call me a stupid moron and roll your eyes and faint because you can’t fathom how you agreed to blindly follow such a strange fellow on an unnamed adventure?”

Celeste laughed and dusted snowflakes from her sleeves. “I am highly doubtful that will happen.”

“You’re not cold, are you?”

“Not at all. Even with the snow, it is quite agreeable out tonight, don’t you think?”

“Okay, good.”

“You have on only a sweatshirt. Are you not chilly?”

“I have a hood. And I have you.” He pulled her closer. “Damn, I think I forgot my wallet. Oh, no, I didn’t. It’s fine. Anyway, you up for a little bit of a drive?”

“I am.” She would drive across the country if that’s what he wanted.