Cecilia - Twenty #2
There was no small smile this time, I was full on beaming and when my phone rang in my hand signally Theo was calling me, I answered immediately.
“Let me take you out on a date. I know we’ve already made each other come, so we’ve kind of done things backwards, but I don’t want another day to pass before I leave where I haven’t taken you out,” his voice filled my ear, making my stomach flutter at his words.
My mind drifted back to yesterday instantly and I thought of his touch; my cheeks began to flush at the thought.
But I also felt myself pause at the words ‘before I leave,’ feeling like I’d been punched in the gut.
Maybe the date would complicate things more because I was staying, continuing my trip with Siena for another two months, while Theo returned home.
Maybe it would make all the feelings I was beginning to have inside of me for this man develop even further and the thought terrified me.
But most of all, I wanted to say yes more than anything because I promised myself, I would do more things this year and there was nothing I wanted more than to go on a date with Theodore Finch.
“I’d love to,” I said, my face split into a grin.
“Is tomorrow too soon?” he asked and I could hear the nerves ever so slightly in his voice.
“Tomorrow is perfect,” I smiled back.
“See you then, Celia,” he said and the phone made a noise as he hung up, leaving me standing in the middle of the room, phone still somewhat attached to my ear, grinning wildly like a lunatic and then all of a sudden, the panic set in.
Shit.
I had a date.
Tomorrow.
With Theo.
The Theodore Finch that I had secretly had a crush on for years .
“Siena!” I nearly screamed and she came rushing back into the room, a half-eaten piece of bread clutched between her fingers and an empty wine glass in another.
“What?” she matched the panic energy that I was no doubt emanating.
“I’m going on a date tomorrow with Theo!” I shrieked with half fear and half undeniable excitement.
She released a sigh, stuffing the rest of the bread into her mouth and around bites replied, “God woman, I thought you’d seen a mouse or something!”
“I might as well have,” I flailed, clutching my phone to my chest. “A mouse would’ve been less terrifying.”
“Okay, breathe,” she said, setting down her glass and wiping crumbs from her fingers. “You’re going on a date. With a guy you’ve already kissed. And who’s seen your orgasm face. I think the pressure’s off.”
“That does not make me feel better!”
Siena cackled, reaching for my shoulders and giving me a tiny shake. “Cece, babe. He’s obsessed with you. You could show up in a potato sack and he’d probably cry with gratitude.”
I groaned. “What am I going to wear?”
“Oh, so now you’re asking the important questions.”
“Do I go cute? Sexy? Effortlessly ethereal? ‘Oops I didn’t mean to be this hot’? What if I sweat through my dress? What if I trip? What if I get spinach in my teeth and he changes his mind—”
Siena slapped a hand over my mouth. “Stop. You’re spiralling. ”
I nodded, wide-eyed, breathing hard through my nose.
She lowered her hand slowly. “We’ve got this. Wine, wardrobe choices, and some very honest mirror pep talks. And maybe—just maybe—you let yourself enjoy this. He’s Theo , yes. But he’s also your Theo.”
I exhaled. “God. I think I really like him.”
She grinned. “You think?”
"You’re not helping!"
"I think I’m helping perfectly."
I walked in the bedroom and allowed my body to fall onto the bed, limbs sprawled, heart still thudding like a drum in my chest. “What if I mess it up?”
Siena flopped down beside me. “Then you’ll talk about it. Like adults. Like people who have had sexy times and now have feelings.”
I let out a groan and covered my face with a pillow. “Why does having feelings make everything so terrifying?”
“Because feelings are messy. But also? They’re the good stuff.”
I peeked at her from beneath the pillow. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
She smirked. “It’s the wine.”
A moment passed, the only sound between us the distant hum of a scooter on the street below and the clink of glasses from an open-air café nearby.
It smelled like toasted bread and lavender.
That soft, golden hour glow was beginning to settle across the walls again, the kind of light that made everything feel cinematic.
I sat up slowly. “I don’t want to ruin this. ”
“You won’t.” Siena said it like a fact. “Cece, this isn’t some random rebound. You and Theo? That man looks at you like you’re art.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That’s incredibly poetic for someone who just housed a baguette like it owed her money.”
“Don’t hate the multitasker.”
We both burst out laughing, the kind of shared hysteria that only came from years of friendship. The kind of laughter that cracked something open in your ribs and let the worry spill out.
Siena sat up and reached for the notepad on the side table. “Okay. Operation: Cece’s Date Outfit. Let’s strategise.”
“I was thinking the green dress with the fake bow at the front?”
“The one that makes your boobs look massive?”
“That one.”
“Jesus, he’s going to combust.”
I laughed again. “Too much?”
“Not enough. Now what are we doing with your hair? Because the humidifier life is not cute right now.”
“I could curl it and let it fall loose?”
Siena nodded like a general approving a plan. “Perfect. Goddess energy. He won’t know what hit him.”
We fell into a chaotic rhythm, rifling through the suitcase, laying out jewellery and shoes, holding earrings up to the light, debating over lip colours.
The playlist we’d made weeks ago was playing now, drifting through the apartment with a kind of nostalgic sweetness.
It felt like we were eighteen again, getting ready for something life changing.
By the time the final potential outfit was hung on the back of the door, we were tipsy and gleeful and a little overinvested. Siena had pulled out a mini facial kit and insisted we both do masks before bed.
“You need to look dewy. Like, ‘I woke up like this’ levels of hot,” she declared.
“I’m pretty sure I’m already glowing from anxiety.”
“Well, add a layer of radiance just in case.”
We lay on the sofa, masks drying, glasses of water now in our hands instead of wine.
“You are the best friend in the whole entire world, you know that?” I said, looking at Siena. “I’m going to miss you when we aren’t gallivanting across Southern Europe together anymore!”
She smiled at me, “I’m going to miss you too, even more than I’m going to miss the pastries,” she replied and her head fell against my shoulder.
“The pastries are so good,” I conceded.
“Soo good.”
We fell into silence, the apartment humming softly in the evening air, the sounds from the street making their way through the open windows.
I realised in that moment how content I was, how I never would have imagined I’d be in Nice with my best friend, about to go on a date with Theo and yet here I was.
And I was so glad I hadn’t imagined it because it was much better living the reality.