Italian restaurants are supposed to be romantic, right? That’s what movies and TV shows have been telling me my whole life. But sitting across from Ashley at Bella Notte, the only thing I feel is a crippling sense that I’m failing some unwritten test. The red-checkered tablecloth and fake candle between us seem to mock my awkwardness.
I tug at the collar of my button-down shirt. The nicest one I own, which isn’t saying much. I borrowed an iron from Mom this morning, but you’d never know it now. Meanwhile, Ashley looks... different. She’s traded her usual ponytail and practical clothes for a simple dark green dress that makes her eyes look deeper somehow. Her hair falls loose around her shoulders instead of being pulled back, and she’s wearing makeup. Not a lot, just enough to notice.
The waiter drops off our waters and promises to return for our orders. I take a sip just to have something to do with my hands.
“Well?” Ashley says, raising an eyebrow at me across the table.
I blink at her, genuinely confused. “Well what?”
She sighs, the familiar sound of her exasperation oddly comforting in this unfamiliar situation. “When you’re out with a woman, you should compliment her.”
“Oh.” I feel heat creeping up my neck. “You look nice.”
I mean it too. Really nice, actually. The dress isn’t revealing or flashy, but it fits her perfectly. The color makes me think of pine forests in winter. It’s weird seeing Ashley dressed up like this, but also... not bad weird.
“Thanks,” she says, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. “You clean up okay yourself.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, fighting the urge to tug at my collar again.
Ashley takes a sip of water, studying me over the rim of her glass. “Vince, we’ve eaten out a million times before. Why are you so nervous?”
I stare at the fake candle, watching the plastic flame flicker. “Because it’s a date,” I admit, my voice barely audible over the ambient restaurant noise. “It feels different.”
She leans forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s just practice though... it’s not a real date.”
“I know,” I say quickly, ignoring the strange twinge in my chest. “Obviously.”
The awkward silence between us stretches on for a few more seconds when I spot a flash of purple hair in my peripheral vision. My stomach drops like I’ve just missed a step going downstairs.
“Do my eyes deceive me, or does the saddest loner I’ve ever met actually have a girlfriend?”
I look up to find Portia standing by our table, her amber eyes gleaming with curiosity. Ashley’s eyebrow arches in surprise.
“Portia?” I manage to croak out.
She’s not alone. Caroline and Dante are right behind her, looking like they’ve just stepped out of a fashion magazine spread. Caroline’s warm brown eyes meet mine, and my throat goes dry instantly.
“In the flesh,” Portia replies with a dramatic little bow. “What a delightful surprise running into you here.”
“What are you doing here?”
Portia gestures around the restaurant. “Caroline likes this place, so I decided to see how the peasants eat.” She flashes a wide smile at Ashley, who’s watching the exchange with guarded interest. “Are you really dating Vincent?”
Ashley reaches out and shakes Portia’s extended hand. “Yes, Ashley.”
“Oh yeah,” Caroline chimes in, her voice as soft and gentle as I remember. “I went to high school with you two.”
I can’t seem to make my mouth work properly. My tongue feels like it’s glued to the roof of my mouth as I stare at Caroline.
“Yes,” Ashley confirms, sliding her hand across the table to take mine. Her fingers intertwine with mine in a gesture that looks casual but feels deliberate. “We reconnected recently.”
Dante’s arm is wrapped possessively around Caroline’s waist, his thumb tracing small circles on her hip. “Small world,” he says, his voice dripping with confident charm.
Portia’s gaze slides between Ashley and me.
“So,” she says, tapping one perfectly manicured finger against her chin, “is Vince like hung or something? Is that why you’re dating him?”
My mouth falls open in horror.
Caroline gasps beside her. “Portia! Don’t be rude. They’re on a date.”
Ashley’s hand tightens around mine so hard I feel my knuckles grinding together, but her face remains impressively neutral.
Portia gives me a mocking smile, all teeth and zero warmth. “Fine,” she says with an exaggerated sigh. “See you around, loner.”
The three of them walk away, Dante’s laugh drifting back to our table. I stare down at the tablecloth, willing the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
As soon as they’re out of earshot, Ashley leans across the table, her eyes blazing. “Vincent, what the fuck! When did you become friends with Portia?”
I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “She’s not my friend,” I mutter, rubbing my now-throbbing hand. “She got assigned to be my chemistry lab partner. She really stresses me out.”
“Chemistry lab partner?” Ashley repeats, her voice rising just enough that the couple at the next table glances our way. She immediately lowers her volume. “You never mentioned that.”
“It happened last week,” I say with a shrug, trying to downplay it. “It didn’t seem important.”
Ashley stares at me like I’ve just told her I’m secretly an alien. “Are you dumb?!”
“No,” I protest. “What? It’s not like I was going to say to her, ‘Hey Portia, can you help us swing with your friends?’ That would be insane.”
“No, Vincent,” Ashley hisses. “That’s not even how this works! There’s an app!”
I blink at her, confused. “For swinging?”
“Yes!”
“I didn’t know...”
Ashley takes a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself.
“Did you see Dante?” she asks, her voice taking on that dreamy quality it always does when she mentions him. “He looked so hot tonight.”
The tightness in my stomach makes me want to test the waters. “So did Caroline.”
Something flashes across Ashley’s face, a clenching around her eyes, a slight downturn of her lips, but it’s gone so quickly I might have imagined it.
“Becoming friends with Portia might help us in the long run,” she says thoughtfully, tapping her fingernail against her water glass. “She clearly knows them well.
“She’s super creepy, Ashley,” I protest, leaning back in my chair. “When we met, she grabbed my chin and told me I have the most profoundly sad eyes she’s ever seen in her life.”
Ashley’s eyes widen a fraction.
“That’s... actually really weird,” she says slowly. Her voice is perfectly even. “Like, who even says that to someone they just met?”
“I know, right?” I take another sip of water, relieved she agrees. “She gives me such a bad vibe. It’s like she’s constantly analyzing me for some weird experiment.”
Ashley nods slowly, her fingertips drumming thoughtfully against the tablecloth. “Yeah, something’s definitely off about her… Alright, let’s do another week or two of practicing, and then I’ll try to set it up.”
My heart instantly skips several beats. The restaurant suddenly feels twenty degrees hotter, and I can hear my pulse pounding in my ears. Set it up? As in, actually arrange to swap with Caroline and Dante? As in, this isn’t just some weird fantasy we’re playing out but something that might actually happen?
My hands are suddenly clammy, and I can feel sweat beading at my hairline. The thought of actually being with Caroline should be exciting, but all I feel is pure, undiluted panic. What if I freeze up? What if I can’t perform? What if Caroline laughs at me?
Ashley’s expression softens as she watches my internal meltdown play out across my face. She reaches across the table again, this time taking my hand gently.
“It’ll be fine, Vince,” she says, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. Her thumb traces small circles on the back of my hand, the motion oddly soothing despite my racing heart. “We’ve been practicing for this. You’re getting better every time.”
I try to nod, but my head feels disconnected from the rest of my body. The waiter chooses this moment to return for our order, and I stare blankly at him, having completely forgotten we’re supposed to be looking at menus.