6. Six
Six
Arnold
M y fingers danced a jittery tap dance on the desk, pen in hand. The click-click-click of the plastic against wood echoed my racing heartbeat. Thoughts of Agatha swirled like a storm in my head. Her laugh, those deep brown eyes, and the way she'd stumble over a word, then laugh it off with an infectious giggle. She seemed so confident. So put together. The whole time, I was so nervous; my balls were sweating.
"Should I?" I muttered under my breath, glancing at the closed door that led to Fable and Lyric's sanctuary. Maybe they will have answers. They are girls, after all.
I stood up, chair scraping back with a screech that set my teeth on edge. Enough was enough. I needed their sage advice, or I'd spiral into a black hole of what-ifs and maybe-nots before I ever saw Agatha again.
With each step towards their office, my palms grew sweatier. What if they laughed? Or worse, what if they told me I was hopeless?
"Stop it, Arnold," I chided myself silently, taking a steadying breath. "They're your friends." Or as close to friends as I'd ever get.
The floor squeaked under my feet as I walked before reaching their door. I raised my hand, hesitated for a split second, then knocked.
"Come in," Fable's voice beckoned, a gentle lilt teasing the edges of my anxiety.
"Hey." I managed a small wave as I stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind me.
Fable glanced up from her desk, her smile fading as she took in my face. Lyric's eyes met mine, too, her brow creasing ever so slightly. They knew something was up; they always did.
"Rough day?" Lyric arched an eyebrow, her lips twitching as they did when she was concerned.
"Something like that." My gaze flicked between them, seeking assurance in their familiar faces.
"Sit down, Arnold." Fable gestured to the couch, her smile soft and inviting.
"Thanks." I sank into the cushions, the fabric cool against my skin.
"Spill it," Lyric said, leaning forward, elbows on knees.
I took a deep breath, my chest tight. "It's Agatha. We're meeting up again, and I'm just... What if it's awkward again?"
"Awkward's not the end of the world." Fable chuckled.
"Besides, she agreed to a second date, right?" Lyric's smirk was a challenge, sparking something within me.
"Right." I nodded, feeling a sliver of hope. "She actually initiated it."
"Then you've got this." Fable's confidence bolstered my own.
"Embrace the awkward," Lyric added with a wink.
"Embrace the awkward," I echoed, a laugh surprising me, bubbling up from somewhere deep and anxious. My face grew hot as my gaze dropped, and I played with my shirt.
I slumped into the couch; my hands clasped together as if I could squeeze out the nervousness like water from a sponge. Fable leaned back in her seat, tapping a rhythm on the table with her fingers.
"First time I met Lyric," she said, "I walked right into a glass door. Full faceplant."
Lyric snorted, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "She had a nose print on the glass for a week."
A laugh escaped me, unexpected and genuine. The image of poised Fable with her face squashed against a door was oddly comforting.
"See?" Fable spread her arms wide. "We've all been there."
"Totally." Lyric nodded, her grin infectious. "Besides, Agatha's seen you at your awkward best already—and here she is, coming back for more."
"Guess that makes sense." A warm flush crept up my neck. She had a point.
"Arnold, just... let go." Fable's hand gestures were fluid. "Wear those quirks like a badge of honor."
"Right." I chewed on the inside of my cheek, considering her words. "Quirks are...good?"
"Best part of you." Lyric crossed her arms, her smile softening. "Don't hide 'em."
"Okay." My voice became stronger than I felt, but it was a start. "No more hiding."
"Exactly." Fable stood up, stretching her arms above her head. "Now, go be the Arnold that Agatha can't wait to see again."
"Will do." I pushed myself up from the sofa, feeling less like I was heading into battle and more excited for the date with a girl who maybe, kinda, liked my kind of awkwardness.
"Go get 'em, tiger." Fable's chuckle followed me as I stood, more sure-footed now.
"Thanks, guys." A grateful grin spread across my face.
"Anytime, Arnold." Lyric's salute was playful as I turned towards the door.
"Really." The words were simple but heartfelt.
"Go be you," Fable called out as I left their office, the weight on my shoulders lighter than it had been moments before.
"Be me," I whispered, my steps more purposeful. That's exactly what I'd do.
I shuffled through the maze of bookshelves, my heart a light drumbeat in my chest. Excitement fizzed through my veins like soda pop. I could hardly wait to meet Agatha again.
"Hey, Rufus." A golden head nudged my hand, brown eyes full of that doggy wisdom. His tail gave a few thumps against the leg of a table stacked with new releases. "Thanks, pal."
The bookstore hummed around me, the scent of paper and possibility hanging in the air. I plopped into my chair behind the desk, the leather creaking under my lanky frame.
"Okay," I mumbled to myself, fingers drumming on woodgrain. "Let's make this special."
Rufus settled by my feet, a warm presence anchoring me to the moment.
"Park?" I suggested. The idea popped into my mind; it was simple but good. "Yeah, she'd like that."
A smile crept onto my face, imagining Agatha's laughter as we walked past duck ponds and flower beds. No pretense, no scripts—just Agatha and me, and maybe a frisbee for Rufus.
"Then coffee," I continued, picturing the quaint little shop on the corner, its windows fogged up with warmth. "The one with the couches."
Rufus let out a soft 'woof,' his tail swishing in agreement.
"Perfect." I nodded to myself. "Just keep it real, Arnold."
Details first then hit her up. Make it casual. This was it. A second chance for an honest-to-goodness connection. And I was ready for it, awkward phrases and all.
I hovered over my phone, my fingers twitching with a mix of nerves and excitement. Rufus snored softly at my feet, oblivious to my inner turmoil.
"Hey," I typed, then backspaced. Too casual? "Hi Agatha," I tried again. Better. Professional, but not too stiff.
"Looking forward to our second date. Maybe we can go for a walk in the park," I continued, fingers finding a rhythm.
I chewed on my lip, re-reading the words. They felt right—honest, simple. A grin tugged at my lips. This was me, no pretenses.
"Can't wait to catch up soon," I finished with a flourish, feeling brave. My heart hammered a rapid beat as I hit send.
A quiet 'whoosh' signaled the message's departure. I leaned back, releasing a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. Done. Out there in the digital ether, waiting for her eyes only.
Rufus stirred, lifting his head to glance at me. His tail wagged once, slow, as if he sensed the shift in the air.
"Thanks, buddy," I whispered, scratching behind his ears.
Now came the wait. The agonizing, nail-biting suspense of waiting for a reply. Would she laugh? Smile? Or just feel... nothing?
I shoved those thoughts away. No. We've broken the ice. We are both dorks. This time, we would really connect. I could feel it in my bones. We'd stumble through it together, two awkward souls fumbling towards something real.
The chime of a new text cut through the silence. My pulse spiked. It was from her.
"Excited too! See you in a couple of days," her response read. Simple. Sweet. Perfect.
A laugh escaped me, unrestrained and genuine. This was going to be good. I could handle the awkward, the cringe-worthy moments. Those were the bits that made life, well, life.