The Prince and the Plant Whisperer

The Weirdest Reason Ever, That It's Not a Date

[~Posted 7/24/21]

adjust her braid.

She realizes: when she'd impulsively hugged him just now, her arms had pushed & folded his collar back down by accident. Now his jaw's visible once more—set in a determined line. And still, his gaze refuses to leave hers.

She feels like her mind is trying to climb an impossible wall.

Had she misunderstood everything? Was this really possible... that he liked her, that way?

His deep voice cuts through her thoughts.

"I want to show you something later tonight," he says. "Are you free?" As he smiles, she's again seeing all the warmth that'd crept through his face, the day of that psych experiment.

Still—

It's going to be so humiliating if I misunderstand, she thinks. I really need clarity. Not just his hand placed slightly lower on my waist.

If I'm reading this wrong, I'll get assassinated on social media. I'll be yet another girl who threw herself at Lukas... and got ignored. I'll be fed to the wolves.

Not that it matters.

She was good at ignoring painful gossip, thanks to high school. All those kids—they'd all given her a lifetime's worth of practice. After the accident. After Beth. There was no gossip that could possibly get as bad as what she'd faced back then. She was practically a Zen master now.

Lukas's insistent voice brings her back: "6pm?" he asks. "You free?"

She nods. Then, because she needs clear-cut answers, she tries teasing him. "Is this—a date?" she says, wanly.

She'd meant to be lighthearted. Playful. But in her state of heightened confusion, she can't quite pull off the right tone. Her voice just sounds earnest and hollow in her head.

From there things get worse.

He just shakes his head disapprovingly at her. "A date? Isn't that a little backward?"

"Backward?"

Uh oh.

With alarm bells ringing in her head, she suddenly realizes: Wait—does he think dating's old fashioned?

Since she's started college, there's been all these students who only seem interested in random hook-ups. Flings. One-night stands. Yesterday she heard a girl in the cafeteria giggle to her group of friends, "OMG, stop, you guys. Brayden and I aren't dating. We're not a thing. It's just a drunk hookup, OK? Like a weekly drunk hookup."

Was this what Lukas meant?

Honestly, she hadn't gotten the vibe that he was the casual-hookup type. But maybe she'd been wrong. About everything.

So he was thinking we'd just sleep with each other? No strings attached? And there I was—secretly hoping we'd garden side by side!

Kai, you're too naïve!

"A date—isn't that a little backward?" he repeats, stern once again.

"I guess you think it's old-fashioned, huh?" Kai pulls her navy coat around her sweater more tightly.

But Lukas shakes his head, no. With a meaningful look, he gestures over his shoulder. At the greenhouse of flourishing plants.

And the next words out of the stern upperclassman's mouth send Kai's mind reeling into outer space:

He says slowly:

"We're already raising a generation of offspring together. Why would we go back to just dating?"

His voice is impish. And completely serious.

Of course, the corners of his mouth have to be curled into that smile like that!  She wants to hide her face in her hands. There's a full-on grin on his face now.

This is the goofiest thing I've heard in my life! she thinks at him, accusingly.

And yet—as he utters these words, there's also something true at the core of them. There's been this one project closer to her heart than anything else she's ever tried to do. And among the billions of people in the world, he's the single other person out there, who's cared about it too.

She does actually feel like she knows him now—almost better than anyone else on campus. In the way she wants to know someone, at least.

Not just through forgettable trivia and fun facts.

No.

She knows his breaths, his deliberate pace, his thoughts, his responsiveness—all of it has been recorded and archived in her plants. This past week, she's absorbed all of his actions and seared them into the understanding of someone very specific.

Someone who'd been by her side the whole time.

There'd just been a big question mark lingering there over the person's face, age, occupation. Until now.

Lukas interrupts her thoughts:

"I'll be outside Gaffigan with my car at 6pm."

A car! Right—he's moving off campus. So he has a car. Whoa. Fancy. Wait—are we going far? Her thoughts just get more and more disjointed. Hold up—what do I wear... What are we doing?

"Remember, it's a black Subaru Forester," he says, very stern: "I don't want to see you climbing into some other guy's car."

Her strength's returned just barely enough to finally tease him back: "So you want me climbing into your car, then? You're not even going to open the door for me?"

"I absolutely will if you want." He refuses to take her bait. "But if I do—there'll be pictures of us at the top of everyone's social media feeds tomorrow. Just be warned."

Kai recoils at the thought. "No, no, no, no, it's OK. I'll rather get in your car with dark sunglasses on."

He almost seems—a little disappointed. "I figured you didn't want all that gossip starting up," he says. "Even though... I wouldn't mind it."

Then Lukas's voice sharpens: "Oh. I have another warning," he adds.

She looks at him, questioning.

"—I'm going to have to kiss you tonight," he says.

Up until now her mind's been a mess of fragmented shards. But all her thoughts suddenly gather together into a single orderly response:

ARGHHH!

"See you later—" is all she manages.

And she's thinking, I didn't protest, I didn't protest—so I've agreed to be kissed? I just signed my death warrant. Her insides feel contorted with 15% anticipation and 400% dread.

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🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱

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