Under the Same Stars(20)
“Nope,” he said. “I suffered for seven hours, but then finally triumphed with two tickets. New Orleans, night one. We had to fly down and stay with my cousin, but it was so worth it. My girlfriend lost her mind.”
My spine straightened. Girlfriend? He had a girlfriend? How had Reese not mentioned that?
“Oh.” Davis read the confusion on my face. “No, Mads, I meant ex-girlfriend. It’s sort of”—he searched for the right word—“new. I haven’t totally broken the habit yet.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Is that why you need a date to JProm?”
Davis sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “I really want to go, but all my friends have girlfriends or are, you know, talking with someone, so I’d be the only one going stag.” He paused to sip his drink. “And I know I could just ask one of my friends, but they’re also friends with my ex…” He shook his head. “Hun feels too small sometimes, and everybody knows everybody, and that can get old when it comes to dances. So yes, when Reese texted me about you, I didn’t hesitate.”
My heart flipped. He’s sweet, I thought. He’s really adorable and really sweet.
Maybe the ex-girlfriend thing was a bit uncomfortable, but besides me, who didn’t have an ex? I liked talking to him. It was fun and easy.
I didn’t realize my lack of response until Davis grimaced and asked, “Did I blow it?”
“Oh my god, no!” I exclaimed. “No way! I was literally thinking about what a great time we’re going to have together.”
Davis grinned. “You’ll be my date?”
I found myself grinning back. “I’d love to.”
Then, I internally screamed. I HAVE A DATE!
Davis and I talked for another hour, mostly about music. “You have to check out Maisie Peters,” I told him. “I guess she’s technically pop, but definitely has this British rock edge to her music, and she writes all her own songs…”
“Wait, I’ve seen Maisie Peters!” he said. “Years ago, when she opened for Ed Sheeran in Philly. I supervised my little sister and her two friends while the parents peaced out for dinner. It was a great concert!”
Later, we exchanged numbers. I internally rolled my eyes at myself when I saw Davis Adams in my phone, since Adams was also Reese’s last name. I should’ve been able to guess that for social media reconnaissance.
Maybe I’d liked going in blind, though; it stopped me from wondering if the person I saw on Instagram would live up to their profile’s hype.
Davis said he would text me details for the dance, plus some songs he thought I would like. I had some in mind for him, too, which made my stomach spin a little. He hugged me before saying goodbye; we’d parked in opposite directions. It wasn’t until I turned off Witherspoon Street and started up Nassau that I realized I’d forgotten my purse-that-I-literally-never-used back at the coffee shop.
I sighed, and then back to Crescent Moon I went. The sun was starting to sink in the sky, and even though I’d only been gone for ten minutes, the café had calmed—calmed enough that I could clearly see Marco through the front window; he had an entire couch to himself and was focused on his laptop. A few books and a couple of binders were splayed open on the cushions next to him.
Along with my purse!
“I tried calling after you,” he said by way of greeting when I marched up to him. He closed his laptop. “But you were definitely surfing some other galaxy.”
“Space cadet reporting for duty.” I sarcastically saluted him, then dropped the act. “I had my AirPods in. I couldn’t hear you.”
And I might’ve been in the middle of sending a text to Katie and the bridesmaids: It went well!!
As if on cue, my phone buzzed; I pulled it out of my pocket and placed it on the nearby coffee table, not yet ready to read the flood of messages. It vibrated again on the tabletop, the screen lighting up to show there were six new texts in the chat.
Once six became eight and eight became ten, Marco gave me a look. “Care to share what that was earlier?”
Not particularly, I almost said.
But those eyes.
Those damn honey-dipped eyes of his.
They looked dangerous.
Anyway.
“Earlier?” I asked, trying to play it cool.
“Yeah.” Marco moved his school stuff to make room for me on the half-moon-shaped couch. I waited a beat before sitting down; he and I hadn’t hung out like this in a while. “You and Davis.” He held up his hands before I could call him on it. “I swear I wasn’t eavesdropping. You just turn up the volume when you’re nervous.”
I glared at him. “I wasn’t nervous.”
He ignored me. “Were you two on a date?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. His voice was teasing, but I swallowed my snark. “More of a predate,” I said eventually. “He goes to Hun and asked me to be his date to their junior prom. We wanted to meet in person first.”
“Mmm,” Marco hummed, which I somehow knew translated to, Someone set you up?
“Marco.” I sighed. “Don’t ask.”
“Okay.” He shrugged. “Don’t tell.”
He opened his laptop again and went back to whatever he’d been doing earlier. I tried not to fidget next to him, but my thudding heart made that difficult. Because what if I did want to tell him about the bridesmaids’ Ready-Set-Date scheme? Ever since agreeing, I had felt the urge to talk to someone uninvolved about it, but I hadn’t been able to figure out who that uninvolved someone was. Because for once in my life I didn’t want to share with Austin. How confused would he be when I told him this game was my make-or-break moment with Katie? I also definitely didn’t want to tell my dads, and Connor would think the whole thing was ridiculous.