Page 42 of Darling

Me:

I’m a basic sort of guy

Z:

Well, I’m not so I guess we balance each other out. I know the theatre. I’ll see you there in an hour.

Me:

perfect. we can eat after

I’m stupidly nervous. A date. I haven’t been on a date in… Christ, twenty-five years? Aside from the dinner Bridget and I had taken one evening after being set up by some well-meaning friends. Felix and I had never done anything that could have been considered a date. Something I’m a little ashamed of now.

I wander east along the Potomac for a while before turning and heading back towards the movie theatre. Leo texts me, demanding to know my whereabouts. I tell him the truth. I went for a walk, now I’m going to see a movie and get some dinner. I’ll be home later.

I’m sitting on the steps outside the movie theatre, tickets in hand, when Asher appears in front of me. He’s wearing a pair of baggy jeans, a bright blue hoodie that reads ‘less upsetti more spaghetti’ across the front in retro lettering, and a small,feminine crossbody bag pulled over his front. I want to kiss him. I wonder if I could, here in public.

“Hey.” He smiles. “Didn’t have dinner and a movie with the British Ambassador to the US on my bingo card for today, but I’m not mad about it.”

“I’m glad.” I grin. “Sorry it was a little last-minute.”

“I love last-minute. How are you? You look like you’re doing good. I mean, you look good.”

“I’m good. Doing good.”

“I see that. You got a little sun and everything. Are those…” He comes a little closer and lifts up onto his tiptoes. “Fucking freckles?”

“Ah, yes. Rarely seen. Leo took most of them.”

He nods but gives me a commiserating look. “So, what are we seeing? I didn’t get a chance to look at the listings, but I’m easy with whatever.”

I hold out the tickets for him to inspect.

He raises a well-shaped eyebrow. “You really have some kind of death wish, don’t you? Are you in therapy? I have the name of a really good one.”

Through a laugh, I say, “It terrified me as a child, but I don’t expect to be that frightened of an animatronic shark these days.”

“It’s not a real shark??!” He pretends to look shocked. “I’ve actually never seen it.”

“You’ve never seenJaws?”

“I’m twenty-five years old. Isn’t it, like, an eighty-year-old movie? Plus, I grew up in a religious community where TVs were not permitted. I missed a lot of the pop cultural stuff that makes a person a well-rounded human being.”

“I think you’re incredibly well-rounded,” I say. “Wait, I thought you were twenty-four?”

“Yeah, I was. Yesterday.”

I blink. “It’s your birthday?Today? Why didn’t you say something?”

He shrugs. “What would I have said?”

“I don’t know. When I called earlier, you could have said it was your birthday.” Didn’t he have plans with his friends?

He starts walking towards the entrance of the cinema. “Well, it never came up. And like, do you normally go around telling people it’s your birthday? Usually, people—family and friends—they know already. They wish you a happy birthday and give you a gift, and that’s that. Though it wasn’t something we ever celebrated, not really. Only the man himself was celebrated in our house, and it was his birthday every damn day.” We arrive at the concession stand, and he begins to browse the array of sugary offerings, extreme focus on his face. My heart aches a little at the idea of a decade or more of Asher birthdays going uncelebrated. I’d taken a picture of Leo on his birthday every year. Big grin on his face and a cake in front of him.

“What about your friends? Here in Washington.”

He shrugs again. “They don’t know it’s today. I’ve only known them about a year, and it’s never come up. Like I said, it’s not something you tell people; usually people just know.”