Teddy smiled (she could not stop smiling! Her face was going to break!). She liked this lumbering oaf. “You don’t have to worry about the socks. They’re not fragile.”
“Right,” Everett said, bumping into the door. They couldn’t stop looking at each other. This was ridiculous; it was like the shop was a Magic Eye picture and Teddy kept staring at the center to see Everett St. James appear.
“Wait,” Teddy said as he pushed the door open, still looking at her. “Where are we meeting?”
“I’ll pick you up,” Everett said, holding the door open with one arm.
“But you don’t know where I live.”
Everett smiled again, and it made Teddy want to shiver. “Why don’t you email me?” he asked.
This was the part where a very different kind of man would wink. A man who had a different kind of charm, maybe even a bit of smarm. But Everett was not the winking type, which was one of the things Teddy could already tell she liked quite a bit about him. Instead, he held up a hand in a wave, and then he was gone.
Teddy stared at the door and put her hand on her chest, feeling for her heartbeat to make sure she was still alive. “Everett St. James,” she said, needing to hear his name out loud. He was no longer a person on a screen, words in an email, thoughts in her head. He was a real man, one she’d be seeing tomorrow.
“Oh, shit,” she said, realizing what she’d agreed to. She was going to ride a bike with Everett St. James tomorrow.
37
Dear Teddy,
I would like to clarify one thing before tonight: I do own drinking glasses that aren’t Muppets themed and from the 1980s. In fact, usually I drink out of perfectly normal adult glasses.
Mostly because the Muppets glasses are collectibles and I don’t want to break them.
Do you have a specific place you want to ride? A trail? The sidewalk? A street? The Tour de France (may be difficult logistically, since you aren’t registered and it isn’t occurring right now but I think I could figure something out)?
Drinking out of a basic, boring clear glass,
Everett
Dear Everett,
My roommates’ favorite mug is one that has a picture of a dachshund and says “DON’T SQUISH THE WEEN,” so I’m not really in a place to judge anyone for their choice of drink ware. Seriously, we all fight over that mug, but this morning I won.
As tempting as the Tour de France is, I wouldn’t want to show anyone up. Likewise, I don’t want to be hit by a car on the road or a fast jogger on the trail, so let’s try a parking lot. I know a good, particularly empty one that’s usually only occupied by teenagers attempting to practice for their driver’s test by maneuvering around orange cones.
Drinking out of an inappropriate mug,
Teddy
Dear Teddy,
Thank you for including a picture of the mug. It’s adorable, perhaps made even more so by the juxtaposition of the horrific sentiment.
A parking lot it is! And this way, no matter what happens on your bike, at least you’ll be able to heckle teenagers who don’t know how to drive yet.
I’m assuming you know how to drive a car or I’m going to look like a huge asshole,
Everett
Dear Everett,
I do know how to drive a car. You’d think that would be scarier than riding a bike, but what can I say? I like to do things a little bit differently, i.e., I like to let a childhood fear of bicycles follow me into adulthood.
Uniquely,
Teddy
Dear Teddy,
Well, prepare to conquer that fear. Should I see if I can affix training wheels to the bike? You know, for safety/reassurance purposes?
Helpfully,
Everett
Dear Everett,
Please don’t. The teens will point and laugh. I need them to think I’m cool.
Pulling down my sunglasses,
Teddy
Dear Teddy,
See you tonight. I can’t wait.
Everett
38
“Wow, this is very ‘go big or go home’ of you,” Kirsten said, nodding approvingly. “You’re meeting your Internet crush and conquering your fear of bicycles.”
“What’s the deal with the bike fear, anyway?” Eleanor called from the bathroom, where she was doing her hair.
“Did you once have a traumatic experience on two wheels?” Kirsten asked, leaning forward from her seat on the sofa. It was officially Halloween, and she was dressed as a tiger, complete with yet another skintight costume, ears, and drawn-on whiskers. Even though the only people seeing their costumes would be the children coming to their door, Kirsten had said it was still important to dress up, insisting that it was disrespectful not to.
“Something like that,” Teddy said. She wasn’t ready to explain the entire situation to her friends, and anyway, she was getting ready to go out with Everett. She didn’t have time to explain the story of the last time she was a carefree person who did whatever she wanted and then ended up destroying her parents’ marriage and breaking her arm.
“What about this?” she asked, twirling around in the outfit she’d chosen: a cardigan over a short-sleeved button-down with tiny red flowers, a full skirt that went past her knees, and thick tights because it was, after all, October.
Eleanor stuck her head out of the bathroom, hands in her hair.
“You’re going to look like Audrey Hepburn on a bike! I love it!”
Kirsten tilted her head. “I hope that skirt doesn’t get tangled in the bike wheels.”
Eleanor waved her off. “Google ‘Audrey Hepburn on a bike.’ You’ll see a bunch of pictures, none of which are Audrey on the ground after a skirt-related bike crash.”
“Well, that’s good enough for me,” Teddy said.
Her phone buzzed, and she felt her stomach drop. Anxiety and excitement were so close together, it was like they were the same feeling. She couldn’t tell if she was terrified or thrilled or . . .
Waiting outside. Your neighbor is staring at me suspiciously. I think she’s afraid I’m about to ask her for candy.
Terrified and thrilled. Both of them, all at once, swirling in her body like a slightly nauseating cocktail.
Also it’s weird to text you. But emailing you to say I was here felt weirder.