December 2002
He knocked on Jessica Moore's door and then kinda wished he hadn't.
They had only gone out twice, she'd probably think this was weird. She'd think he was weird. He shifted his weight and swallowed thickly. Maybe she'd be right.
By the time she opened the door, the parcel he'd brought her was crumpled, and slightly crushed from being squeezed too hard. But he still handed it over, mumbling awkwardly, and watched as her face flushed in delighted surprise.
And then he knew he'd gotten it right. Maybe normal wasn't all that tricky.