waiter reappears with a notepad. She hasn’t left us very long but it’s not like there are any other customers to wait upon. ‘You guys know what you want to drink?’ she asks, pen poised.
I smile with all of Gretel’s charm. ‘A white wine please.’ I gesture towards Joshua, who is forced to look up.
‘Another of these please.’ He points to his pint.
‘Great. Coming up.’
Before I have a chance to make eye contact, Joshua’s vanished behind the menu again. I scratch my neck, wondering what Gretel’s done wrong. If he did know, I reckon he’d be less passive aggressive than this and more aggressive aggressive. My stomach loosens slightly.
‘You know what you’re going to get?’ I offer one last olive branch for whatever crime I’ve committed.
‘Well, ramen, clearly.’
That’s enough now. Time to take the power back. I shake my head then jump off my stool, and, without saying a word, I walk out of the restaurant. I’m enveloped by the steam of heatwave Soho as I walk away slowly, waiting for him to inevitably follow. It feels deliciously overdramatic, but also fitting considering his behaviour. I wish I’d thought to do this all the moments in the past when I’ve been cold-shouldered. I’ve just reached the corner when I hear him.
‘Gretel? Wait! What the hell?’
I keep walking a few more steps. One … two … three.
‘Gretel!’ There’s urgency to his voice. The squeak of surrender as the power floats through the city’s mugginess and lands back into my hands. I turn around, looking bored.
‘Where are you going?’ he asks.
‘I don’t do passive aggression,’ I say. ‘Don’t meet me for dinner and then not speak to me. I won’t stand for that sort of crap, Joshua.’ I put my hand on my hip. ‘We’re not 12. If I’ve pissed you off, tell me.’
He glows red with guilt. ‘I’m sorry.’ He offers up the apology instantly. ‘I’m, well, can we just go back inside?’
‘I don’t know. Are you going to make eye contact?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you going to explain to me what’s going on, like the grown adult man that you are?’
He stares at his feet, looking nothing like a grown adult man. ‘Yes.’
‘All right then. Let’s go back in.’
The waiter’s holding our drinks patiently when we return – nonplussed, unbothered – this city rendering her unshockable. I take my wine, thank her, and drink a giant glug as I clamber back up onto my stool. Joshua’s still blushing as he sits. He takes a sip of his pint and places it down, before squeezing his hands together like he’s trying to juice them.
The waiter holds up her pen again. ‘You guys ready to order?’
I shake my head. ‘Not quite yet. Maybe give us a few minutes?’
She nods and exits stage left. We’re left alone and I lift my face to the ceiling fan, letting it whip my fringe off my forehead.
‘I didn’t mean to be weird,’ Joshua starts. I don’t say it’s OK because it isn’t.
‘I just, well, I’m a little bit upset to be honest.’ He looks up earnestly, still attacking his hands.
‘Upset about what?’
‘It’s just … I know we’ve not talked about it, but, well, I mean, you met my friends the other day. And I don’t just, like, let them meet anyone. I thought that went without saying. I thought we were on the same page.’
I catch an inkling of where this is going, and, when I realise I’m right, a mist of surreal descends down on me. I’m in the middle of a ‘what are we?’ conversation and it’s the first time in my life I’ve not started it. I am never, ever, on the receiving end of these kinds of desperate-but-pretending-they’re-not chats. I take another sip of wine while my stomach tries to figure out what emotion it’s feeling. Excitement that I’m winning? Or guilt? Or, maybe even excitement that he likes me this much?
Not me, I remind myself. Gretel.
Joshua stumbles in to fill the silence. ‘Anyway, when your housemate turned up on Saturday, I know she was upset and everything but, well … Gretel, it was clear she’d never even heard of me.’ He makes eye contact and it hurts to look back at him, confirming the emotion I’m feeling as ‘guilt’. Guilt mixed with admiration that he’s brave enough to say all this. ‘She hasn’t, has she? You live with her. You’re clearly very close friends. Have you ever mentioned me at all?’
I shake my head and tell him the truth. ‘No, I guess I haven’t.’
His