“So would you have asked her out had your friends not made that bet with you?”
Jason didn’t answer right away. “Probably not.”
“Why not?”
He sighed. “It’s scary, you know? I mean, asking someone out is scary enough as it is, but…when you’ve liked the person from a distance for so long, and they never even knew? It’s terrifying.”
“Are you admitting to being afraid?” I asked, teasing him.
He glared at me. “Damn straight I am. But I did it anyway. That’s what courage is, you know: being afraid and doing what you have to do anyway. That’s what Dad told me, anyway, and it strikes me as true.” His faced darkened when he mentioned his father, and his fist tightened on the steering wheel. “But shit yeah, I was afraid when I asked her out. I was shaking.”
I laughed. “You sure could have fooled me. You looked like you were as cocky as ever.”
He looked at me with interest. “Cocky? Do I come across as cocky?”
I nodded. “Yeah. You act like you own the world. Like you’re not afraid of anyone or anything.” I picked at the chipping robin’s-egg-blue fingernail polish on my thumb. “I don’t know how you can do that. Act like that.”
He shook his head. “I don’t mean to come off as cocky. I don’t feel that way most of the time, to tell you the truth.”
I glanced at him. “So it’s an act?”
He shrugged. “Some of it, yeah. A lot of it, actually. I’m just like anyone else. I’ve got things I’m afraid of, secrets, insecurities, whatever. Everyone’s got that stuff. Maybe I just hide it better.”
I didn’t answer right away. The idea of Jason Dorsey being insecure or afraid seemed almost comically absurd to me. He never hesitated, never questioned himself. He was always self-assured and in control and confident. He knew who he was and what he was good at, and he knew people liked him. Not like me, in other words.
“Maybe you do,” I said. “Now, back to the subject at hand. How did you end up asking me out?”
Jason shifted in his seat. “So I showed up at Nell’s door for the date, and I got a phone call. I answered, thinking it was Kyle since it was his number on the I.D. It turned out to be Nell, backing out of the date. Apparently she and Kyle had some kind of argument that led to them realizing they belonged together or some melodramatic horseshit like that. I don’t know. All I know is, I was kind of upset, you know?” He looked at me, then away, as if about to say something that embarrassed him. “So then Nell tells me I should ask you to go out with me in her place. Now, for the record, I told her you’d react exactly the way you did. She was all like, ‘oh, just tell her what happened and it’ll be fine.’ So, it’s not like I got dumped by Nell and thought, ‘Oh, what about Becca, she’s almost as good as Nell.’”
I sucked in a sharp breath. That’s exactly how it felt to me. “No? Then what did you think?”
He didn’t answer for a long time. After almost five minutes of uncomfortable silence, he parked the truck in a slot in front of Bravo. He slid out and opened my door for me, and then the front door of the restaurant. My heart stopped when his hand settled on the small of my back, guiding me in through the inner foyer door. Neither of us spoke until we were seated at a round four-person table, a basket of bread and a dish of olive oil in front of us.
After we’d ordered, I leveled a serious look at Jason. “You never answered me. What were you thinking?”
Jason wouldn’t look at me. “I don’t know. A lot of things. I was thinking I was hurt, for one thing. I mean, I’ve liked Nell since we were kids. She never knew, and she never will, now. She and Kyle are, like, perfect together, you know? And she just stood me up without a second thought. It hurt. Then she told me to ask you instead, and it opened up a new line of thought. At first, it was kind of like just ‘why not?’ And yeah, I know how that sounds, and I’m sorry. You wanted the truth, so there it is.” He dipped bread into the olive oil and popped it in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before continuing; I was mesmerized by the way his jaw moved, by the strong lines as he chewed, the sure movement of his hands, the constant roaming of his eyes, flicking from the table to the door and then settling on me. “But the more I thought about it, the more I realized something. I realized I was holding on to the idea of having a crush on Nell. And really, a crush? What does that even mean? She’s never noticed me because she’s always been into Kyle. They’re just…so wrapped up in each other. They might not have put a romantic spin on it till now, but they’ve always been together. So I think I was just in love with the idea of having her notice me because she never did and never would.”
“And now?” I sipped my Coke and waited for his answer. If I didn’t like it, I was ready to bolt and walk home. This whole situation was skirting the edges of my ability to handle it.
It almost seemed like he was actually seeing me for me, and that was dangerous for my sanity. I almost didn’t want him to want me, because that would mean doing something about it.
“And now?” Jason swirled the ice in his glass with his straw. “Now I’m seeing things a bit differently. I thought about you, and I guess I realized I didn’t really know you. We’ve moved in the same circles our whole lives, you know? And I mean, you’re one of Nell’s best friends, but with Nell, pretty much anyone is going to come second after Kyle. Anyway, I realized I don’t know you, and I’d kind of like to. I mean, I know you’re really smart, like, smarter than pretty much everyone I know. And I know you’re really beautiful. But I don’t know much else. I think your parents are immigrants, but I’m not sure. I know you stutter sometimes. But really, that’s it.”
He thought I was beautiful? I had to focus on breathing to keep calm.
I laughed. “I’m not sure the term ‘immigrant’ is politically correct, Jason.” I was proud of myself for getting that out sounding casual, and without stuttering. I was still reeling from his throwaway comment about me being beautiful.
He shrugged. “You know what I mean. They moved here from another country.” He waved with a piece of bread. “Immigrants. Not a bad or good thing, just a thing.”
“My father is from Italy. He’s from a port city called Brindisi, which is in the region of Puglia—”