Alex stared groggily at me from her bed, watching as I changed outfits for what felt like the thousandth time that morning. “What's gotten into you?” she asked. She looked at her watch. “Normally, you're gone for your run by this time, but instead, I find you...” She gestured towards the pile of clothes that had been strewn across my bed.
I frowned at myself in the mirror, shaking my head. Maybe if I just did something different with my hair… Or maybe if I changed out this red top for that black turtleneck that I had… But that wasn't the kind of thing that you would wear to a date, right? I should wear something more feminine and revealing, not a turtleneck of all things.
Problem was, I didn't really have many clothes that I would classify as feminine and revealing.
“You're going on a date, aren't you?” Alex suddenly asked, looking more alert. And amused.
I rolled my eyes. “Yes,” I said exasperatedly. “Ben and I are going to lunch, and I haven't seen him in nearly two weeks, so-”
“So you want to make sure that it's not another two weeks before you see him again,” Alex said simply. “No, that makes total sense.” She cocked her head to the side. “What about that silvery shirt that you have, with a black cardigan and black jeans? Casual, but you still look great in it.”
I shook my head. “The neckline comes all the way up,” I reminded her. “And with a cardigan, it would just disguise my shape.”
“Oh,” Alex said. “So it's not just that you want to look good, you also want to look sexy, huh?”
I blushed a little but nodded. “We haven't even kissed yet,” I told her. “I'm starting to think that I'm being massively friend-zoned.”
Alex snorted. “I doubt that,” she said. But then she frowned. “Although, yeah, it is kind of weird that you haven't kissed yet and also that you haven't seen him in two weeks. Maybe he was waiting for you to call or something like that, though?”
“i mean, maybe,” I said. “But he said he's been really busy at work, and whatever it is that he does, I dont' think that he works in the city. I don't know where it is that he works, but...”
“Yeah, that's still so weird to me too,” Alex said, shaking her head. “I mean, if you guys are going to be seriously dating, you're going to need to know what the guy does. I don't understand why he won't tell you.”
“I don't either,” I said, shaking my head. “But I'm sure he has his reasons.” I looked back at the pile of clothes, my hands on my hips. “Seriously, though, what should I wear?”
When I met up with Ben later that day, I was glad that I'd put some thought into my outfit and that I'd settled for an ivy-green dress that I hardly ever wore. It had felt like it might be a bit too formal—despite Alex's insistence that it wasn't—but now that I saw the charcoal-grey suit that Ben was wearing, I was glad I was in a dress instead of jeans or something like that.
“Oh wow, you look nice,” I said as I climbed into his car—this time, a sleek little silver thing, rather than the fancy sports car.
“Thanks,” Ben said, tugging self-consciously at his tie. “It's a work thing; I actually really hate dressing like this. But you look really pretty today, too.”
“Thanks,” I said, simpering at him.
“So, where are we going?” Ben asked.
“Well, I had originally thought about getting burgers, but I doubt you want to go for burgers in a suit like that,” I told him.
Ben grimaced and shook his head. “Honestly, burgers sounds so great right now after all the posturing and shit that I had to do this morning, but I stupidly didn't bring anything to change into, and I'd rather not get grease stains and ketchup all over my best suit. Sorry.”
“No problem,” I said. “I had a backup plan. If you can find a place to park, we can walk it.”
“Okay,” Ben said, eyes scanning the area for parking spots. “If it's in the university area, you're probably right that I don't know it—I hardly ever come over here except when I'm running.”
I gave him an almost appalled look. “You're missing out on some of the best that the city has to offer, then!” I told him. “Jesus, I can't even imagine. What about Mama's Pizza or My Way Indian? Or-”
“Most of those places deliver,” Ben pointed out.
“Yeah, but the atmosphere,” I said. “It's going to those grungy little hole-in-the-wall places and sitting down with all the other-”
“Poor students who can barely scrape together enough for a meal, let alone for a tip?” Ben asked, smirking over at me.
I rolled my eyes. “That's not all that you find there and you know it.”
“No, that's true,” Ben said, his eyes glittering. “You also find a fair number of homeless people.”
I snorted and lightly punched his arm. “Hey, I love this part of the city,” I told him. “It's why I chose to stick around for university rather than going further from home like most of my friends did.”
We finally pulled into a parking space as someone else was pulling out, and I led the way down the block towards one of my favorite little restaurants.
“Taste of El Salvador...” Ben said, frowning a little. “Honestly, I wouldn't even know the first thing about Salvadoran cuisine, let alone know this place.”
“Good,” I said. “Prepare to be surprised, then.” I led him inside, and we waited to be seated at a table near one of the front windows, where we had a good view out to the street.
“So what exactly am I supposed to be ordering?” Ben asked, flipping through the menu. “I mean, I don't know what most of this stuff is, and the English translations will only take a person so far.”
I laughed a little. “Yeah, I get that. Well, I would recommend panes rellenos, but you probably don't want that for the same reason that we didn't go for burgers—it's a sandwich that's basically drowned in tomato sauce and spices. Super tasty, but definitely messy.”
“Yeah, we'll say no to that one, then.”
“But we could get a sopa de pata—that's a type of soup—and some papusas to share—those are these corn dough tortillas filled with cheese or beans or pork or...well, whatever you want, really. And then empanadas de leche. For dessert, we have to get empanadas de leche.”
Ben smiled at me. “Well, I'll leave the ordering up to you, I guess,” he said. “I'm sure whatever it is, it'll be delicious.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “That's a lot of faith you're putting in me, considering I just suggested a type of soup that contains tripe.”
Ben mimicked my facial expression. “Do you not realize that British people eat tripe a lot more than Americans do?”
I laughed. “Well, all right, then. Let me go put in the order.”
“How do you know so much about Salvadoran cuisine anyway?” Ben asked when I came back to the table.
I grinned at him. “Actually, I was in Central America all of last summer, doing this really neat study abroad program. We spent three weeks in Costa Rica to start with, followed by three weeks in Nicaragua and three weeks in El Salvador. I studied Latin American Social Revolutions while I was there.”
“Oh wow,” Ben said. “That sounds really interesting. You must speak Spanish then?”
“Just a little,” I admitted. “I'm working on getting more fluent.”
“But you're studying French.”
“Yeah, I started studying French ages ago in school, so I figured it would be a waste to lose it all now. I have designs on this study abroad program in France for next year or the year after, but it's going to be expensive, so I either need to get some good scholarship help or I need to save up a decent amount of money for it. But I'd get to study in the south of France and learn all about life in small villages and how that was impacted by the French Revolution and things like that.”
“Sounds...” Ben trailed off and then laughed a little. “Well, to be honest, it doesn't sound too interesting to me because I've never really been all that interested in history. But you seem pretty excited about it, so.”
I laughed as well and shook my head. “See, that's one of those things that I never understand,” I said. “How can someone not be interested in history? We wouldn't be here today if it weren't for history.”
“True,” Ben said. “But we also wouldn't be where we are today if it weren't for business, or if it weren't for those past humans looking forwards towards the future.”
“Hmm, fair point,” I said. And suddenly, I blurted out, “In the spirit of looking forwards towards the future, what exactly are we doing?”
Ben blinked at me. “What do you mean, what are we doing?” he asked. He looked around. “We're getting lunch at a Salvadoran restaurant that you recommended.”
“Right, that's not what I meant,” I said impatiently. “I meant what are we doing? Is this still a date? Are we just friends? I know I probably shouldn't be asking, but I just-”
“Oh,” Ben said. For a minute, he didn't say anything else, just shaking his head a little and looking at me with a fond smile on his face. “You know, I like that you're so blunt,” he said. “Most girls tiptoe around questions like that, but you, you're always so direct.”
I blushed a little and ducked my head. “It's my fatal flaw,” I told him.
Ben reached over and caught my hand, lightly squeezing it. “I'd like it if this was a date,” he said. “I intended for this to be a date. Unless you don't want it to be.”
“I want it to be,” I told him. “I just… I feel like I'm getting mixed signals from you. You haven't even kissed me yet, and you disappeared for almost two weeks, and-” I cut myself off, grimacing. “Sorry, I sound like such a needy female right now.”
“No, that's fair,” Ben said. He cocked his head to the side. “To be honest, I'd really like to call you my girlfriend.”
“Do I get to learn what your super-secret job is then?” I teased.
Ben laughed. “Not quite yet,” he said. “Give it a little more time. But...”
“I'd like that,” I told him. “Very much.”
“Good,” Ben said, smiling warmly across the table at me.