"So… What are you doing tomorrow?"
"Huh?" She looked up and over her shoulder, startled. "Oh, Zach – hey." Her smile sloped softly.
"I thought maybe you'd like that coffee." He offered.
"Coffee, sure. Coffee would be great." Nervous eyes scanned the room.
"Marissa, are you okay?"
"Me? Yeah. I just, I was supposed to meet Ryan." She admitted. "He's, uh, helping me move some things for the gala."
"Oh, well I have to—" He motioned away, head ducked slightly.
"No, wait." She turned from her bag, facing him properly. "I'm sorry Zach; I'd love to have coffee with you tomorrow. Meet you at the pier by noon?"
He considered a moment. "Sounds good." His smile was crescent, a tiny waxing moon of emotion.
She tipped the corners of her mouth up into a beam, brushing his hand with hers as they both turned to see Ryan waiting for her by the door of the lounge.
"Tomorrow." She promised through her smile.
"This gala is killing me." She sighed.
"You shouldn't get so stressed. You're doing the best you can." He assured.
"But what if it's not enough? If everything goes wrong and I ruin everyone's night?" She rambled.
"You won't. You've done this hundreds of times." He beamed.
"True." She relented.
"Then it'll be fine." His fingers reached out, tips touching hers across the table.
She released a breath she didn't know her lungs were holding when she realised.
Silence and breathing vibrated in the air. "This was… nice." She said finally.
"Nice." He agreed.
"You know, I think I need some fresh air. You want to go for a walk?" She suggested.
"Sure." Their fingers locked in stalemate, reluctant to go forwards or retract.
Doe eyes looked shyly through long eyelashes. "I'll just freshen up."
"Are we dating?" His question was sudden, but discreet.
"Uh, sorry—Um. What?" Deer-in-headlight eyes greeted him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to rush you – it's just we've been going out for a few weeks now and—Well, I just wondered where I stood. If we're not then it's fine, really. Just – if you'd like to." He looked a little anxious.
Her eyes were febrile, delicate – her deliberation was slow and heavy behind them.
Taking his hand she bit her lip gently. "I'd like to."
His smile spread slowly.
The grains of sand stretched out before them both, frothing where they met the sea and she tilted her smile towards his – closing the gap between them as the tide stretched up the shore.
Her words came out slowly, quietly giddy against his lips. "We're dating."
"Well – that's nice." He smiled back.
"I—uh, I don't think we thought this through." Her tone attempted diplomatic.
"Thought what through?" He pretended.
She fought the words up through her throat. "Us. About us dating."
"What do we need to think about?" He was being irritatingly naïve and she wished she could be too.
"Summer." Her voice cracked over the word. "I really like you, Zach, but—"
"—You don't want to cheat on your best friend." He paused. "But we're not dating anymore – she's the one that left me." He reasoned, fingers on her wrist – over her pulse.
"Still…" She tried to fight some logic from her mouth – and failed.
I really like you, Marissa. And you seem to like me – just give it some time and she'll see that this isn't some ploy to get back at her." His tone was almost hypnotic, his eyes warm and genuine.
"Can we wait a little while… before we tell her?" She pleaded.
He nodded and she sighed, relieved.
"Can we wait over dinner?" He asked.
"Waiting is always better over dinner." Her slender fingers slid round the back of his neck – safe in private.
"You know this qualifies as a reason to break-up." Her face was dead-pan.
"What?"
"My Mother loves you." She teased. "That can't be a good thing."
"She seems nice. Definitely not as crazy as you described." He added.
"Well, you don't have to live with her." She reasoned.
"True. But you don't have to live with my Mother—"
"I like your Mom!" She grinned.
"Yeah, me too, but… she's a little much sometimes." He admitted.
"Now that I understand!"
They were quiet for a time.
"You know we have to tell her. Now my Mom knows we have about twelve hours before the whole of Newport knows." She seemed resigned.
"It is a scarily efficient grapevine." He looked up to where she was draped over one shoulder. "You want me to talk to her?"
"That's sweet—but I think I have to." She nodded.
"It'll be fine. Summer seems really into Seth – still. She's not going to worry about us."
"Let's hope so."
