I sat there, stunned, my thoughts slowing down to half time while everything outside it had sped up. Did Sidney like me? Of course they liked me, but did they like me? They’d said not dating was a guideline, but what did that mean? I’d taken it as a throwaway line. Maybe it wasn’t? I added Do I have an obvious and pathetic crush on my YouTuber friend, and does all of YouTube know it? To my list of Things to be Mortified About Later.
“Unless I’m wrong...” Mara said gently.
“Um.” I tried my water again, but very little ice had melted since the last time.
She pushed her half-full glass across the table toward me.
“Thanks.” When I’d downed almost all of it, I looked up. “The thing is, I don’t want to be the guy who thinks he’s the exception. And they said they don’t date.”
“So be the guy who’s honest about how he feels and doesn’t act entitled to someone else returning those feelings.”
I cringed. “But what if they don’t? That sounds awful.”
“Would it be awful if someone told you they had feelings for you and you had less-strong feelings for them? Or would it be nice to know they felt that way even if nothing came of it?”
Which was, okay, logical. “Except that sounds, like, super scary.”
Mara reached for one of my hands (this wasn’t quite the hand-holding I’d sorta hoped for at the beginning of our date). “Hey, you know who’d be able to give you good advice about your dilemma?” Slight emphasis on advice.
“Yeah.” I sighed. “Sidney.”
“You could ask them. If you want to.” She squeezed my hand. “Either way, do you want to go out for coffee again? And Sidney said you crochet, is that true?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, I’m not brilliant, but I can follow a pattern.”
“Have you been to the yarn shop over on Tice?”
“I don’t think so?”
She nodded like that settles it. “Let’s do a coffee and yarn shop friendship date. Okay?”
“That sounds really nice.” I hesitated, knowing it was time to let go of her hand, but holding it just a little longer. “You really think I won’t sound like an asshole if I ask them for advice about...about them?”
“I think you could go out with a dozen people, but if you’d rather go out with Spunk, none of them will measure up. And if they say no, at least you’ll be able to let that go and give someone else a chance.”
I couldn’t tell if Mara put herself on the list of people who didn’t measure up, or if she was making a general statement. Either way, she had a point. “Dating is way more complicated than I remember it being in college.”
She laughed. “Isn’t everything?”
We walked back to the parking lot, talking a little more about Sidney, but I managed to stop being so self-absorbed and ask some actual questions about Mara too. It was by far the least awkward I’d felt, and we even hugged when we were saying goodbye.
“Can’t wait to see the show!” she called as she was getting in her car.
The show. Sidney. Me. My no-longer-deniable crush.
Oh dear. I had three days to come up with some clever way to broach the subject with them. Go, team.
Chapter Eleven
I panicked sitting in my car down the street from Sidney’s apartment and called Mason, completely forgetting that he was hosting Motherfuckers gatherings to watch The Love Study. So basically: I called everyone.
“I’m panicking.” That was me.
“Do you want a pill?” Oscar.
“He goes live on YouTube in five minutes, it’s too late for a pill.” Ronnie.
“Hush, both of you.” Mia. “Dec, take slow breaths, okay?”
I tried that, but it didn’t help. Until—wait a minute—it helped a little. “What if they reject me live on YouTube in five minutes?”
“It will take longer than that for you to ask them out.” Oscar. “What if they reject you live on YouTube in fifteen minutes?”
“Oh my god.”
“Slow breaths!” Mia.
“Ow!” Oscar.
Good, at least someone smacked him for me. Probably Ronnie.
“Y’all, be quiet.” Mason took the phone off speaker and the background sounds of my friends got much more distant. “Dec, listen to me for a minute.”
“Listening.” I concentrated on inhaling.
“You’re going to go and say hello and sit down like you always do.”
“Right.”
“And if you want to tell Sidney about the date as usual, you can.”
“Okay.”
“If it feels good, you can ask them out. If it doesn’t, don’t.”
“I was thinking I might ask them for advice. Like hypothetically, if I wanted to ask out a friend who wasn’t into dating and I wanted to make sure I was doing it respectfully.”
“Mmm.” Was that a good mmm or a bad mmm? “That could work. Will you regret it if you don’t go for it?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Totally. But maybe I should wait until we’re not live? Because what if they feel like I put them on the spot?”
“If you do it hypothetically, and they answer you hypothetically, I think you’re still doing the show. Once the video’s done, then you can follow up and take their advice.” His voice was so comforting. “Honey, they like you. Anyone can tell that.”
“I’m terrified,” I whispered.
“If they blow you off, do what you always do: crack a joke and change the subject.”
“Hey!”
“Stop being a silly goose and get your ass in there, you’re late. Go get you some, son!”
The others shouted variations on the theme of me going to get me some and I hung up on their laughter.
Mason knew me really well. I would regret it if I didn’t say anything. Also, I was late. Again. Dammit.
This time they smiled and opened the door wide for me to step inside. “Everything’s ready for us.”
Us. I dropped my stuff. “Sorry I’m always late. I should have warned you before you committed to the show.”
“It doesn’t bother me. You’re here. That’s what counts.”
We nearly crashed into each other on the way to our chairs, awkwardly separating and laughing it off. Not an auspicious start to the show.