over the keys and then, unbidden, heard the words in his voice. He’d said them as they waited on the curb for her Lyft, and she felt the breath of them on her cheek right before he’d placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth.
D: GOOD NIGHT, QUIN.
For fun she added a GIF of a bunny snuggling down into bed. Immediately she wished she could take it back. It was the same GIF she sent to Arya all the time, but somehow, sending it to the man who had kissed her (and kissed her and kissed her), a new, suggestive angle took hold.
Then Quin replied with a GIF of two animated kittens sharing a sweet kitten kiss, and Dini giggled again, all of her fears of unleashing the sultry bunny forgotten.
She was about to put the phone away and take her dishes to the sink when Arya’s face came on the screen. Dini took the call, settling back with her final piece of toast and tepid tea. After the usual rundown about Arya’s day—drama with Bea’s school butterfly project, Bill’s inability to appreciate a good take-out dinner—her friend stopped midsentence and said, “Wait a minute. What’s up with you?”
Dini wiped the corner of her mouth with her shirt sleeve. “What do you mean, What’s up?”
“You look different.”
“I know.” She raked her fingers through her curls. “But it’s not as bad as it looks in this light. Really, more of a lavender—”
“I’m not talking about your hair.” Arya took on a look of extreme concentration and moved her face closer to her camera, filling Dini’s screen with an exaggerated view of her friend’s nose.
“Stop,” Dini said, moving herself out of range.
“You just giggled.”
“I did not.”
She had.
“It’s that nerd. Something happened with him.” She was back to a safe distance, but the angle of her head demanded details.
“He went with me to a show.” Dini tried—but failed—to control the invisible wires tugging at her lips as she spoke. Nothing escaped scrutiny on FaceTime.
“You two looked pretty cozy on Instagram.”
“You saw that?”
“I did.”
Dini felt an involuntary smile at the memory. “We spent a really nice day together.”
“And?”
“And”—the smile quivered—“he’s leaving tomorrow. So that’s that. A nice day, a nice kiss, and tomorrow is goodbye.”
“He kissed you?” Arya’s big brown eyes glistened. “Aw, boo—your first kiss.”
The two laughed and swiped ridiculous tears from their cheeks. This was a moment Dini would have shared with her mother—or maybe a sister if she’d had one. Arya was both. “I feel like I’m sixteen, making such a big deal out of it.”
“That’s okay. You were busy doing other things when you were sixteen. I kissed plenty of boys back in my youth. You’re not missing out on anything.” A long sigh and then, “You like this guy, don’t you?”
“I don’t really know how fair it is for me to say that, because I’ve never really dated, right? But yeah, I do.”
“First love is a powerful thing.”
“Who said anything about love?”
“Girl, your face is saying it all over.”
Dini woke up a little before seven, immediately alert in anticipation. Her alarm wasn’t set to go off for another thirty minutes, but the buzzing of her phone made her realize she hadn’t woken naturally. She’d been summoned by her phone’s vibration, and she reached for it, unplugging the charging cable in one fluid motion. A text from Quin. Actually, five texts from Quin.
Q: ARE YOU AWAKE YET?
Q: TEXT ME WHEN YOU’RE AWAKE.
Q: I THOUGHT OF SOMETHING, BUT I DON’T WANT TO TEXT IT.
Q: SERIOUSLY, I WOKE up WITH THIS THOUGHT.
Q: REALIZING HOW STALKER I SOUND, SO I WILL SEE YOU AT 9.
Dini read the one-sided conversation over again, hearing every word of it in his voice, picturing his thumbs racing around the keyboard. She replied with the big-eyes emoji.
D: SEE YOU AT 9!!!
Having showered the night before, she immediately got dressed—if pulling on last night’s flannel pants and T-shirt counted as getting dressed. Slipping her feet into her soft, worn pair of fleece-lined Crocs, she went into the bathroom, washed her face—noting the sheet creases still embedded in her cheeks. She squeezed a dollop of gel into her palm and worked it through her hair, defining the curls in their natural state. There was plenty of time to get back to the idea of makeup.
The coffee table in the living room had been transformed into an evidence area, of sorts, with all of Quin’s offerings displayed. It reminded her of those investigation boards on crime movies, with the red