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“We get soup dumplings when we’re thinking about each other.” She was thinking about me.
“Do you ever have a feeling about someone? Like they’re your safe space and, I don’t know, like someday it could be more?” I swallow, nodding. “Yeah. Of course.” I’m looking right at her. “I have a feeling about him.” But the thing is, when she looks up at me and our eyes lock, I’m pretty sure she has a feeling about me, too.
“Like a date?” “I hope so? I intend to flirt.”
He walks around the hood and sees me at the same time I see the cupcake box in his hand. Forget flowers; give me a cupcake and it’s a perfect date.
“I don’t normally kiss before the first date,” I tell him. “But you’re the exception to the rule.”
Are we still going to be emailing each other from the same couch on Valentine’s Day in fifty years?
