18. Erin
Erin
Don’t worry—your date’s going to be amazing. And you look great,” Erin’s roommate, Colette, said. She was flopped on her bed on the other side of their tiny dorm room.
“Easy for you to say. You’re French and everything you put on automatically gets translated into ‘effortlessly chic.’ ” Erin waved at Colette’s gray T-shirt and sweatpants and blond hair in a messy bun.
Colette laughed. “It’s not my fault Americans have some weird cultural filter that does that to French people. I’m a slob, but it just so happens that I’m a Parisian one.”
“I hate you,” Erin said.
“You love me.”
Erin turned back to the mirror and tugged at the hem of her top. It was a green bias-cut satin tank that Ideal Life Athena said Erin liked, since her dopamine levels had spiked when she tried it on. Erin had paired it with a black midi skirt and thought it looked very put-together.
Fifteen minutes before her date, though, she wasn’t so sure. She put on her Omni 3Ds, which she’d taken off just a few minutes ago so she could pull the tank top over her head.
“Athena, how do I feel about this outfit?”
Colette threw a pillow at her. “Why do you need to ask an app how you feel? You feel, not the code.”
Erin shook her head and ignored the comment.
Colette was a “fuzzy”—that’s what the liberal arts students were nicknamed, the opposite of “techies” who studied STEM fields—and that meant Colette had a stronger, built-up resistance to technology.
But Erin knew Ideal Life and its brethren were the future.
She saw it every day she interned at the company, and she envisioned herself like Talia someday, hopefully not too long from now.
Talia was always pushing herself to be the best. Erin wanted that for herself, too.
Ideal Life Athena marched into the field of vision of the Omni 3Ds and reported to Erin how Erin felt about the outfit.
Ideal Life Athena: Based on current chemical levels and activity in your anterior cingulate cortex, you are currently experiencing emotions of uncertainty.
However, remember your tendency to assign causation where there may only be correlation.
Ask yourself, Is it possible that my feelings are not the result of my outfit but that they come from elsewhere?
Erin sighed. “Good point; thanks for the reminder.”
“That’s what roommates are for,” Colette said. Even though their room was small, she was still far enough away that she hadn’t been able to hear that Ideal Life Athena had responded on the Omni 3Ds. So she thought Erin was still talking to her. Erin let it go.
Ideal Life Athena had been extraordinarily helpful in planning the date with Georgia Tan, a girl in Erin’s computational logic class.
Ideal Life Athena had homed in on the best way for Erin to ask Georgia out, examining what had caused Erin anxiety in the past and minimizing for that (the conclusion had been to write down Hey, Georgia, can I take you out to dinner sometime?
on a piece of paper and show it to her; if Georgia said no, Erin could tear the paper up or burn it to purge the feelings of rejection, plus rest assured that there was no digital record of the failed attempt—other than her conversations with Ideal Life Athena, of course, but those were private).
Ideal Life Athena had also assisted in choosing a place to eat, taking into account what cuisines Erin tended to pig out on (unattractive!) and what gave her heartburn or gas (super embarrassing and uncomfortable!) as well as considering cost (it analyzed Erin’s past brain activity for clues on the kind of spending that stressed her out).
Erin looked at her outfit in the mirror once more, took a deep breath, and grabbed her purse. “Okay, I’m heading out. Wish me luck!”
She was in the hallway when Colette came running out after her. “Wait—I wanted to give you a good-luck hug.”
“Aww.” Erin opened her arms.
But instead of coming in for the hug, Colette yanked the Omni 3Ds off Erin’s face.
“Hey! Give those back!”
Jackson, a football player who lived a couple doors down, poked his head out of his room. He was an Italian literature major and also a wide receiver on the Stanford team, here for the summer to help the new recruits acclimate. “What’s going on out here?”
“Think fast,” Colette said, throwing the Omni 3Ds at him. Jackson caught them and dangled them up high.
Erin let out a huff. She was supposed to pick up Georgia at her dorm on the other side of campus. She didn’t have time for this!
“Jackson, come on. I’m running behind schedule.”
“Do not give those to her,” Colette said. “She’s going on a date, and she needs to do it on her own, not with that thing telling her what to do.”
“It’s not telling me, it just makes suggestions. And I can turn it off.”
Jackson was a huge guy compared to Erin and Colette, and also a huge sweetheart. He frowned and looked back and forth between them, genuinely torn.
After what seemed like eternity (Erin was definitely going to be late picking up Georgia now—what a great first impression), Jackson shook his head. “Sorry, Erin. I’m with Colette on this one. But have fun on the date, okay?”
Erin rolled her eyes. “Fine. It’s not like I need them to function. But if this date doesn’t go well, I’m blaming you two fuzzies.”
Erin and Georgia found a parking space in downtown Mountain View relatively easily, which was lucky, because it could get crowded here on this long street of restaurants that were cheaper than the ones in Palo Alto but equally delicious.
Delicious, too, was how Georgia looked tonight.
Her long black hair fell in soft waves over her bare shoulders, the red of her halter top a contrast to her tanned skin.
Georgia also wore oversize sunglasses, giving her an air of Singapore glamour—she had attended one of the most prestigious academies there, an international feeder school for Stanford—and it seemed to Erin that she’d somehow scored a date with one of the characters in Crazy Rich Asians.
She’d had a hard time not stealing glances at Georgia as they drove here.
(Erin had almost missed their freeway exit because of one such instance; if she’d had her Omni 3Ds, though, that never would have happened.)
Georgia’s eyes darted everywhere as they walked into the courtyard of Taste the World.
It was a hidden alcove off the main road, hosting ten shop fronts of different international street food.
Colorful flags had been stitched together and draped overhead, making the whole place feel like a joyful, gastronomic circus tent.
The air smelled like garlicky grilled seafood, buttery Scottish pie pastry, and the sharp tang of lime and chili peppers from the nearby taqueria.
“I’ve never heard of this place, but I think I already love it,” she gushed.
“I thought we could just buy a bunch of little plates from different vendors and try them,” Erin said.
“Oh my god!” Georgia’s hands flew to her chest. “They have a Singaporean stand!”
Erin smiled. Ideal Life Athena had done a fan-freaking-tastic job of finding Taste the World.
They split up, and Georgia took it upon herself to get a variety of Singaporean dishes from Lah Lah Express, while Erin went around and bought a hodgepodge of European bites—French cheese puffs, Polish pierogi dumplings, and Italian fried risotto balls.
“Everything looks amazing,” Erin said, when they reunited at a plastic table in the center of the courtyard. “What did you get?”
“My childhood favorites.” Georgia beamed at the steaming paper plates and bowls in front of them. “Chili crab, nasi lemak, which is coconut rice, and laksa, a spicy noodle soup. Oh, and they had sugarcane juice and Milo Dinosaur, my favorite chocolate malt drink that I used to get after school!”
“I can’t wait to try them,” Erin said. Her own haul looked so bland next to Georgia’s; everything was beige or brown. Ideal Life Athena could have helped her choose a more impressive spread.
Still, the only thing she could do now was commit to what she’d bought on her own.
No—wouldn’t it be better to eat what Georgia had gotten first? That would be the smart move on a date, right?
Eep. Erin didn’t know. Because on the other hand, if you went to a restaurant and people said they were going to share but then everyone ordered their own entrées, it was assumed that the “sharing” was only a small bite. The entrée actually belonged to the orderer. So was that the case here?
Georgia moaned as she ate some of the chili crab. “Sooo good.”
The sound of that moan shot straight through Erin, and she forgot all about thinking. Her id was leading now.
“With a reaction like that, how could I resist?” Erin took the fork from Georgia, letting her fingers graze hers. Another warm shiver vibrated through her.
Then the chili crab lit up her taste buds. “Oh, wow,” Erin said.
“Right?”
After Georgia ate more crab, she grabbed a spoon and scooped up some of the laksa.
“You have to try this next. My grandma used to make this soup for me any time I was feeling low, and it always made life ten times better. Not that we’re feeling low right now.
But if you want to know my soul, laksa is the key. ”
With a flirtatious glint in her eye, she held the spoon out to Erin but didn’t relinquish it, instead offering to feed her.
Erin’s pulse sped up as she leaned in. She tried to make her mouth as sexy as possible as she wrapped her lips around the spoon, although she suspected she looked more like a fish than a very kissable girl.
“Oh god! Hot!” she spluttered as she failingly slurped and spilled soup all over the table.
Georgia floundered for a napkin, but she was laughing as she mopped up the mess.
“Sorry!” she said. “That didn’t work as well as I’d hoped. Was it too hot spicy, or too hot temperature-wise?”
“Just temperature,” Erin said.
“Okay then, here—let’s try it again.” Georgia filled the spoon with soup but blew on it this time to cool it down.
Erin sat mesmerized. Georgia, at least, knew how to make her mouth look incredibly sexy around food.
“I think it’s edible now,” she said, holding the spoon out.
Erin leaned in and sipped it. The coconut soup was sweet but also rich with all sorts of spices she wasn’t familiar with. “Mm, that’s incredible. If that’s the window to your soul, I need more.”
“I’m so happy you like it.” Georgia put some noodles into the spoon this time, along with more soup, and fed Erin again.
Within minutes, they’d polished off the bowl together.
Georgia pointed to the dishes Erin had gotten. “Should we have some of those, too?”
“Sure, I—”
But Erin couldn’t finish. Her throat started closing up. She gasped.
“Are you okay?” Georgia’s eyes went wide.
Erin winced. “I’ll… be… fine. Just—” She rubbed at her neck.
“Here.” Georgia thrust the cup of sugarcane juice at her. “Maybe some liquid will help?”
Now Erin’s pulse was really racing, but not because of the date. She frowned at the empty bowl of laksa.
“Nuts?” she managed to say, pointing.
“No, just noodles and coconut—oh no, coconut!”
But Erin shook her head. In terms of allergies, coconut was a fruit, not a tree nut, despite the name. It shouldn’t have been a problem.
Georgia was furiously typing on her phone.
Meanwhile, Erin’s eyes started to itch and her nose was running. She could also feel little red hives beginning to rise on her cheeks and around her mouth. She fumbled for her purse to get her EpiPen, but the bag tumbled off the chair and onto the food court floor, spilling its contents everywhere.
“Shit,” Georgia said. “There’s a little bit of candlenut ground up into a paste in the laksa. Are you allergic to them?”
Erin had no idea what candlenuts were, but it didn’t matter now, because it was pretty clear what was happening.
She fell to her knees and scrambled after the EpiPen, which had skidded a couple of feet away. But even when she had it, her hands shook with panic because her throat was closing up more, and Erin couldn’t get the safety cap off. Involuntary tears spilled from her swollen eyes.
“Somebody call an ambulance!” Georgia shouted, before dropping down to the ground next to her and taking off the EpiPen’s cap. “Let me help. Show me where to inject it.”
The thigh was the best place because it was a large muscle with good blood supply and would rapidly absorb the medicine.
Erin yanked up her skirt, inadvertently exposing her seamless but ugly nude-colored panties that she’d chosen for smoothness, not sexiness.
Georgia jabbed the EpiPen in while snot ran down Erin’s hive-ridden face.
A few minutes later, the swelling in her throat began to ease, and the ambulance arrived. The EMTs insisted on taking her into the hospital, just in case.
Mortified, Erin told Georgia not to accompany her. Could there have been a worse date?
By the time Erin was released, Georgia had driven her car back to campus for her and left the keys at the dorm with Colette. She’d left only a short note:
I’m sorry how that turned out. Hope you feel better soon.
See you in class.
—G
This is what happened when Erin had to go on a date on her own.
If she’d had Ideal Life Athena with her, she would have known not to eat the laksa. She would have known it contained some form of nut.
She might have gone home with Georgia. Instead, she’d spent the evening at the hospital, hideously red-faced and mortified.
And alone.