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5. I am Not Dating a Serial Killer

As we drove, I checked my phone, realizing with a jolt that I should have texted Katie half an hour ago. I had two missed calls and three unread messages sent ten minutes apart.

Katie: How's it going?

Katie: Is everything ok?

Katie: Please call me back.

I hit the dial button by her name. She picked up on the second ring.

"Inari!"

"Hi, Katie. I'm so, so sorry. I lost track of time and completely forgot about updating you."

Sergio gave me a sidelong glance, then returned his attention to the road.

"It's all right," she sighed. "You made me nervous, though. I was about ready to call the police."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"But you're okay?" She still sounded worried.

"Completely fine. Sergio is driving me home now." I gave him a little smile.

"Then I'll see you in a bit. Love you, girl."

"Love you too." I hung up. I slid my phone back into my purse, this time making sure the sound was turned on, then answered Sergio's unasked question. "Katie is my roommate. I was supposed to be texting her on the half hour so she knew I wasn't being molested or something." I pulled down the sunshade in front of me and checked my reflection for hickeys. "First dates are the scariest. You could be meeting a serial killer and never even know. Not that I think you are a serial killer," I assured him.

Sergio cleared his throat. "I'm glad that you have a person in your life to worry over you. It is a good feeling."

No hickeys. I pushed the shade back up. "It is. Do you have someone like that?"

For as stern as his face looked most of the time, I was beginning to pick up on little cues that betrayed his emotions. That drop of his chin could mean sadness. Or I could be reading into things. "I have a few friends, but I see them rarely."

"What about family? Mine is all in America, except for one grandmother in Japan."

"Do you often visit them?"

He was avoiding the question, but I let it slide. "I've gone back twice for a week at a time, and sometimes my parents come here, but travel is expensive." I trailed off, remembering that I was with a man who owned a Corvette and bought collector's edition books by the bagful.

Thankfully, he didn't seem to notice. "They must miss you."

"They still have two kids at home, so they're too busy to miss me." I smiled at the memory of my mom on the phone telling me about my siblings. According to her, they had found callings in activities on opposite sides of town, so she spent her afternoons driving back and forth on the same stretch of road. I told Sergio that I had just the two siblings. For years, my parents had thought that they couldn't have any more kids; then all of a sudden, eleven years after I'd been born, they had two in quick succession. Kai and Yasmine (our parents had given them the kind of names that wouldn't scare off white people) had still been in elementary school when I'd left for college.

He told me he was an only child but would've liked a brother or sister.

We pulled up to my apartment. Artificial light leaked onto the street from a few scattered windows, including mine on the second floor.

"Katie is waiting up for me," I observed. "You can drop me off here. Thank you for dinner. And the kiss."

"Thank you, Inari, for your patience with me. And for kissing me back."

"Goodbye." I thought he eyed my lips again, so I gave him a quick peck before exiting the vehicle. I shut the door, then yanked it open again immediately. "Can I give you my phone number?" I asked.

"Ah," his puzzlement cleared. "Please do." He handed me his phone, and I entered my contact info.

I pushed it into his waiting hand. "Text me. Or call me. Whatever."

"I most certainly will."

"Okay," I said, "bye for real now." I heard him laugh as I shut the door for the second time and hurried to the staircase entrance.

Katie was laying on the couch with her eyes closed when I came in, but she lifted her head at the sound of the door. "You're back," she said.

"I am. Sorry again for forgetting to text you."

"No worries." She pulled herself into a sitting position, blankets falling like accumulated snow around her. "How was it?"

I slumped onto the couch next to her with a sigh. "Fun. And weird." I kicked off my heels and told her about everything that had happened.

"Hon," she said slowly when I'd concluded my tale, "maybe you should let this guy go."

I had thought she might say that. But I wanted her to understand that this guy was unlike any I'd ever met. I valued her opinion, so convincing her of Sergio's worthiness was important to me. "I know he said he couldn't be in a relationship, but I think he was just being hard on himself. Like he's used to denying himself things he thinks he doesn't deserve."

"You've only known him for three days, Inari," she reasoned. "You're in no position to make judgments like that."

I rubbed the center of my palm where Sergio had traced circles with his thumb. "All his worries were about protecting me. I don't think I'm in any danger from him."

"Didn't he say himself that he was dangerous? He could be a serial killer."

How ironic that I had just mentioned this to Sergio! "Serial killers don't confess to being dangerous and try to convince their victims to avoid them."

"Ahem," she sniffed. "Are you the serial killer expert in this friendship? I thought not."

I rolled my eyes. "All right, Oh Mighty Serial Killer Expert: has anyone ever insisted to a girl that they can't have a relationship, and then killed her?"

"I'll have to look it up," she said. We grinned at each other.

Sergio was right; having someone worry about you, whether or not you thought they were correct in worrying, was a good feeling.