Meet Cute

Jessica

We met in a bookstore.

Almost five years ago today, Trevor and I walked into a bookstore, neither of us knowing the whole trajectory of our lives were going to change. And now we’re here. We have a house together; we have a little library full of our favorite books. Everything we could ever want.

Every night we take turns sitting on the steps of our library, right next to the windows because I like it, with a cup of hot cocoa and we read a book to the other. We alternate who reads which night.

Tonight, it’s Trevor. He’s reading the new Holly Andrews book. I’m thinking about the night we met.

We were both college students at the University of San Francisco at the time. Both obsessed with Holly Andrews. She was a romance/YA fiction writer, and my favorite writer of all time (for about three months, though she’s still amazing).

Anyway, we went to the One More Chapter local bookstore to find something to do with the fogy California morning. It was windy so my usually straight and manageable hair was flying in all directions but in that of my bun.

Holly Andrews was releasing her new book that day, and I wanted to read it, so I went early. When I got to the ‘A’ section, there was a boy standing there, looking at her older books.

I walked over to him and looked at the selection they had. We both reached for the same book and our hands touched (in a totally cliché way, I promise) and we both startled.

“Do you wanna take it? I don’t mind,” he said.

“I’ve already read it, it’s ok. Thank you though.” I felt like I was blushing, and I hated it.

He looked down and blushed a little as well, “So have I, it’s just my favorite one.”

“No way, me too!” He looked up and gave me a small smile.

“I mean, I love all her work, but that one has the best characters and plot development, don’t you think?”

I replied, “Oh, absolutely. Did you know she came out with a new book today?”

His ears turned pink, it was adorable. “Yeah, actually, that’s why I came.”

I laughed, “Really? Me too. I’ve literally never had this much in common with a guy I met in a bookstore. I’m Jessica, by the way.”

He stuck out his hand, “Trevor, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too. So, do you go to school around her or something, not many people besides the college kids come here.”

“Yup, I go to USF right up the road.”

“Yet again, me too.”

“Really?” he asked. “I’ve never seen you around before.”

“Yeah, I don’t really socialize that much outside of classes.”

He looked back at me saying, “Well, we could socialize a little more if you go on a date with me.”

It took a minute to absorb the sheer ballsiness in that statement, and he took my brief silence as an answer.

“Oh, God that was terrible wasn’t it?” His ears were bright red now. “I’m sorry, I don’t do this very often, like, ever. I’m sorry, just ignore that, let’s go back to books shall we?”

I was outright laughing now, “I’m sorry, that was the most awkward attempt at asking me out I think I’ve ever heard. I don’t do this much either, so you’re in good company. And, for your efforts, I will go on a date with you.”

He looked up, surprised. I was playing the part of “confident golden girl” now, so I was gonna roll with it.

“Give me your hand,” I said as I grabbed a pen out of my purse. He obliged. “This is my number, my place at 6. I’ll text you the address.”

He looked absolutely stunned, “O-okay. I-I guess I’ll see you then.”

I tossed my tangled hair over a shoulder and walked out, strangely excited to go on a date with this strange boy.

I was going to cook tonight, because I like to cook, and I’d much rather be home than at a restaurant.

About ten minutes after I left One More Chapter, Trevor texted me. Hi, it’s me. Then in a separate text, Trevor, I realized you couldn’t give me the address if I didn’t text you first, so, um, hi…I guess

I couldn’t help but laugh a bit, he was adorably awkward. Hi, I responded. Then in a separate text, it’s been ten minutes, how many people do you think I’m giving my number out to?

The little texting bubbles appeared. A pretty girl like you? I’d bet you’d have at least a dozen guys begging for your attention. Then a second later, oh god, I’m truly terrible at this aren’t I? I’m sorry you had to witness the saddest attempt at flirting known to mankind. I couldn’t help the laugh then. I had suddenly gone from the quiet bookworm to that annoying girl who laughs obnoxiously loudly walking down the street.

I told him, you’ll be glad to know you’re the only one who had received the gift of my attention and the rare privilege of my phone number. Then in another text I wrote, I really hope you can hear the sarcasm in this, otherwise we’re going to have a problem here.

He responded in less than minute, don’t worry, I can spot sarcasm a mile out, I’m like a sarcasm robot. I laughed to myself as I walked to the apartment.

I sent him a text later asking do you happen have any allergies I should know about?

He replied a minute later uhhhhh, no?

Fantastic

I’m worried, should I be worried?

No, I’ll see you the apartment later

With that, I went to go get the things I’d need for my totally awesome dinner date.

Trevor

After five years, Jessica had only gotten more beautiful. I was reading a Holly Andrews book tonight, as was our nightly tradition, but I could barely keep my eyes off her.

She was beautiful, even in a sweater and leggings, with her brown gold hair in a messy bun, and her reading glasses sliding down her face.

She looked distracted. To be honest, so was I. This book was bringing back memories of our first date.

Even outside her door, I still couldn’t believe I gotten a date with her. I mean, of all the dudes she could go out with, she chose the awkward guy with terrible pickup lines.

She said get there at six, but going places and the thought of being late gave me anxiety, so I arrived fashionably early at 5:50. I got flowers because I wanted to be that guy tonight.

I’d tried to go for the whole “effortlessly casual” look with a V-neck and a pair of niceish looking jeans. I’d tried to comb my hair back, but it didn’t want me to have any chance with Jessica apparently, so I ended up just letting it do its thing.

I rang the bell to her penthouse-type apartment and waited.

When the door opened, I caught a flash of an apron, a flash of hair in a quick bun, and a sound that was somewhere between a squeak, a yelp, and the word shit before the door closed. Not a good sign. She closed the door. What the fuck does that mean?!

Did she not want me here?

Was I too early?

Was the V-neck too much?

Oh god, how had I already fucked this up? This had to be a new low: ruining the date before it even started.

A minute into my absolute freak out, the door opened again, and there was Jessica (no longer in an apron), in jeans and an old band t-shirt. She looked as red as I felt. We must’ve made a striking image, two people standing in a hallway, blushing furiously, one with flowers, one with flour smeared on her cheek (it was kind of adorable though).

She spoke first, “Um, hi!”

“Hi,” I couldn’t even look at her, I was so embarrassed.

“Um, yeah, so I’m sorry for slamming the door in your face, I thought you were a delivery guy or something.”

Shit, had she forgotten our date?

She must’ve seen the question on my face because she quickly added, “Not that I forgot about this or anything, I just got caught up in cooking and lost track of time. So… Do you wanna come in?”

“Sure!”

She led me through her gorgeous apartment to the kitchen. She had windows overlooking the city and the Golden everywhere. It was beautiful. Jessica was already in the kitchen retying her apron.

“So, I wanted to have this done before you got here, but I have terrible time management skills, so here we are.”

“That’s okay, I’m not very ‘adept,’ if you will, at cooking, but I can help.”

“Okay, well, I’m making chicken, asparagus, and noodles, so if you want to get out a flat pan for asparagus and a big pot for the noodles, you can. They’re over there,” she gestured to a little cabinet next to her fridge. She had an insanely nice kitchen.

I got the pans out and asked what else I could do.

“Ummm, I have to season all of this,” she gestured vaguely to the asparagus and what I’m assuming is chicken on her marble countertops. “Do you know anything about spices? Also, do have any problems with a little spice?” I shook my head.

“Okay, if I tell you the spices can you get them out?” I nodded again; I don’t think I’d said a single word this whole time.

“Great!” she smiled and my heart sped up a little bit. “So I’ll need the olive oil, that one’s in the pantry, garlic salt, lemon pepper, thyme, chili powder…” she listed about five more spices I’d never heard of before, and I went to go find them.

When I had successfully found them and brought them back to her, I stood over her shoulder and watched her hands flavor the food. It was kind of mesmerizing.

I decided to be brave and ask her a question, “So, how long have you been cooking?”

She grinned a little as she looked at me and said, “Why, worried I’m going to poison you?”

I blushed some more (damn these genes of mine) and said, “No! No, I just mean… Well, you look really practiced at it.”

She full on smiled at me and my heart actually stopped this time, “I’ve been doing it since I was about twelve. My mom was a nurse and she had really weird hours, so usually I had to do the cooking.”

“What about your dad?”

Her smile collapsed, “He, um, he left when I was about six.”

“Oh. I lost my mom when I was 16 so I know how much another ‘I’m sorry’ sucks, so I really don’t want to say that, so just imagine me saying a phrase that fits this situation and I’m going to stop talking here because I really think I’m rambling.”

She laughed, her smile returning, “Thank you, I appreciate that.”

I tried to help her in whatever way I could, even though I had absolutely no idea how to cook.

She was very behind her original schedule; apparently she’d gotten caught up reading a book by her current favorite author, and lost track of time. I didn’t mind, we just talked while I hovered over her shoulder like a weirdo waiting for her to give me some sort of instruction. I started just asking super random questions, because I genuinely wanted to hear her answer.

Things like, “What is your absolute favorite place in the world?”

She answered immediately, “Easy, my mom bought a little cabin in the woods, up near Big Sur. It’s right on the cliffs with the forest in the back yard. It’s the type of quiet you can’t get in the city, you know? What about you?”

“Um, I’d actually say the city. I know that sounds weird, but I don’t know, I like something about the chaos of it just fits me, I guess. What about… what was the worst day of your life?”

She laughed and said, “I think I’d need to know you a little better to tell you that answer. What about the best day of your life?”

“Disneyland when I was eleven. It was before my mom got sick and it actually was ‘the happiest place on Earth,’ as corny as it sounds.”

“It doesn’t sound corny at all,” she said softly.

“What about you, favorite day on Earth?”

“That would have to be overnight fieldtrip to an aquarium when I was in fifth grade. I liked things with big teeth.”

I choked on what might have been a laugh, might have been a cough. “Okayyyy, good to know. On that note, favorite animal?”

“Easy, white tiger, I think they’re pretty and I like the teeth. You?”

“Koala, I like how fluffy they are. What about favorite salad dressing?”

We went back and forth like this for the better part of an hour, and it was the best hour I’d had in years.

Eventually, she asked me, “Ok, now for the question to end all questions. Cats or dogs, and which breed?”

“Dogs, definitely, and…Pomeranian or those ones that look like mops. I guess I like fluffy things,” she giggled, it was adorable. “How about you?”

“Cats, all the way, and no specific breed, but I have one around here somewhere. Chloe!”

A massive ball of white fur emerged from her couch.

“Oh my God, I don’t even like cats, but that’s adorable. Dammit Jessica, you’re ruining my image as a tough guy here!”

“Oh come on, you did that yourself with the koala’s, no tough guy is ever going to say their favorite animal is a koala. That’s like saying a panda.” I refrained from telling her I almost said panda.

We went back and forth until the food timer rang, and then we ate. I told her it was some of the best food I’d ever had, and she blushed. Jessica was a fantastic cook.

When I had to go, I stood at her door and told her, “I had a lot of fun tonight, thank you for that.”

“Of course, so did I. And again, I’m sorry for slamming a door in your face when you got here.”

I laughed, I’d forgotten that part. “Yes well, you can slam a door in my face as many times as you’d like, as long as I can come back.”

She smiled and I did the bravest thing I’d done in years; I pulled her close and I kissed her. Not very long because I didn’t want to be that guy, but long enough to make me dizzy.

I pulled back and looked down at her; she looked as dazed as I felt. “Well, bye then. I’m very glad I met you Jessica.”

“Yeah, me too,” her voice sounded uneven. She closed the door and I lingered on her doorstep for a minute, trying to collect myself. I had no idea one kiss could have such an effect on me. I left her apartment feeling like I could do anything.

Jessica

Somehow, Trevor kissing me had my question every other kiss I’d ever received before it. It was the best date of my life. Which was good, because he sent me a text telling me the same thing after that night.

I was jolted back to the present by Trevor saying my name.

“Jessica?”

“Hm?”

He smiled, “Where’d you go?”

“I was thinking about our first date.”

“Me too, actually. I think it was the book.”

I laughed and agreed with him.

“There was something I wanted to talk to about though.”

His voice had gotten oddly serious. It made me slightly nervous. “Okay…”

“So, we’ve been together for a while, and we’ve known each other for a while. And well, Jessica I love you. I love you with everything that I am, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be there on all the worst days of your life, and all the very best ones. I want to buy a cat if it’ll make you happy, and go to aquariums specifically for the animals with the biggest teeth. I want to learn to cook with you, and I want to read all my new favorite books with you.”

He pulled out a little box from his pocket. I started crying. “Jessica Salazar, will you marry me?”

I looked at this boy who had made the happiest I’d ever been, my best friend who knew everything about me and loved me for it. I looked at him and jumped on top of him, showering him with kisses, “Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes!”

We’d gotten the fairytale ending I thought only ever happened in a story book.