From Boiling to Hot

"So, what's the catch?" I say to myself in the mirror.

Everything had been going well. A little too well. Which, considering the day, had been a complete turnaround from the morning. It began when I woke up, already in a mood.

7:57, my clock read. Which, by itself, would have been fine. Except for the fact that I was awake, and very unwilling to be. And my alarm had been set for eight.

I felt around for my phone with my left eye open and my right unwilling to be, and when I was finally sure I held it in my hand, I brought the screen up to my one good eye and carefully--and spitefully--changed my alarm to 8:15. That would make a difference.

But the damage was done. I couldn't go back to sleep, so I groaned and reluctantly began my day, which seemed determined to make me wish I hadn't. Halfway through my shower, I felt the water rapidly change temperature, from the boiling hot that I preferred, to ice cold. As a shiver ran through my body, I was very quickly wide awake and well aware of how the rest of my day would likely pan out. During this realization, I heard my alarm going off in the bedroom. I forgot to turn it off.

When I arrived to my newsroom at work, I was prepared for the day to get even worse, but was met with one that was pleasantly adequate. That is, until I was reminded:

"Don't you have a date tonight?"

I brought my palm to my face so fast, I probably left a mark.

"Yes... yeah, I do," I groaned to my co-worker, Sarah, who had brought it up.

"Kyler, wasn't it?" she asked.

"Yes, Kyler," I said, rubbing my eyes before bringing my hand down from my face. "Don't expect any stories Monday, though, I really doubt anything will happen."

"Why's that?" Sarah asked in that faux-concerned voice only a co-worker could manage.

"I really don't want it to."

I had met Kyler on a dating app. Normally, I wouldn't bother with apps, but I had been lonely when I made the decision to swipe right.

"Hey," he had messaged me when we matched. Maybe it was my mood, but looking back, I despised that opening message. Where's the originality? The creativity?

Nevertheless, he asked if I wanted to get dinner, and I had just finished watching You've Got Mail, so I agreed. But this morning, I was deeply regretting that decision.

After I had written and published my article on the increasing gas prices, I got in my car, contemplated changing, decided against it, and left for the restaurant. I figured I was wearing something date-appropriate anyway and could throw on some cologne.

I arrived half an hour earlier than we agreed. That's fine, I'm a reporter and am always early to a meeting. Besides, I wanted to be done quickly. After I was seated, I let the waiter know that I was early for a date.

"You can probably just leave me alone until he gets here, honestly," I told him. I could tell he sensed the indifference in my voice.

"Not expecting a winner, tonight, are we?"

"I just want to go home."

"I'll check in later. Good luck," he laughed before setting down a water and walking away. As he had, I looked back and noticed how cute he was. I took note of that for later.

Kyler arrived five minutes before we had originally agreed. He was early, too. Maybe he wanted to be done quickly, just like I did. I stood up to greet him, ready for a handshake, but he went for a hug. I obliged, pulling away quickly.

He was a little shorter than me, with a wider frame. His hair was long on top, buzzed on the sides, and had a gradient going from a dark brown at the scalp to a bright red at the tips. This was important because it became an obvious first conversation point.

"I like the hair," I said, trying to sound interested, but not too enthused. "Has it always been so..."

"Colorful?" he laughed. "No, actually I used to have boring hair, if you can believe it."

"Somehow, I can't picture it," I said. "You seem like the type of guy who was born with cool hair."

He laughed again, clearly nervous. Did I hit a nerve? Should I keep going to end this sooner? No, I'd be nice, I decided. Nice and civil, end this within an hour, in a bath with a glass of wine by nine.

"When I was younger, I wasn't even allowed to dye it," he said. "If my parents knew that I cut it like this..."

His voice trailed off.

"Do they not know?" I asked.

"I mean, maybe this is TMI, but I haven't actually talked to them in a long time," he said. "To be honest, they didn't take me coming out as gay very well."

"Oh, no, I'm sorry," I said, trying to backpedal. "We can change the subject, if you want..."

"No, no," he said reassuringly, "I'm fine with it, it's just, most guys aren't comfortable with the trauma dumping until at least the third date."

"I welcome trauma dumping!" I said, laughing. "Truth be told, I hate small talk."

"Oh my god, me too," he said putting his hands down on the table and leaning forward. "It's just so..."

"So tedious, I want to get to the good stuff."

"Yes! Like, why should we just spend time talking about the weather when we're here to get to know each other?"

"Exactly," I said. "Although, I do like weather talk once in a while. I work in news."

"No way, that's so cool!" he said.

"It can be," I said, my voice trailing off and my mind rapidly trying to find something else to say. "What do you do?"

"I work in IT at a hospital," he said.

"That's arguably cooler than news," I said.

"No, it's boring compared to the news..."

"Not at all! You basically keep the whole place running," I said, grabbing my water. "If it weren't for you, everyone would die. The doctors and nurses are cool, but you're the real heart of the hospital."

He laughed as I took a sip.

"Okay, what's something personal about you?" he asked.

"Um..." suddenly, I forgot everything about myself. "I cannot take a shower unless the water is literally boiling my skin off."

He laughed harder.

"I don't know if that counts," he said.

"I know, not the same. But still! It's true! I'll try to think of something better..."

"How's everything going here? Can I get you two started with something to drink?" the waiter suddenly appeared at the table. I realized I hadn't even looked at the drink menu. Sweet tea is usually my go-to drink, but I figured I might do a Moscato to try and loosen up a little for the date.

"I'll do a Moscato, I think," Kyler said.

"Make that two," I said, making eye contact with the waiter.

"Two Moscatos," he said, writing that down, along with something else. "If you guys need anything, my name's Hayden."

Hayden looked directly at me as he said that, handing me a piece of paper he took off his notepad. He did it so professionally, as if he'd done it a hundred times, that I just assumed it was part of his job.

"Here are tonight's specials if you're interested, just holler if you need anything," he smiled and walked away.

"Specials?" Kyler said. "What do we got?" His voice rose and he rubbed his hands together in a let's-get-down-to-business type of way.

I looked at the paper and found that all that was written was a phone number and the words "call me" with a smiley face. The cute waiter.

"Nothing good, just clam chowder," I said, trying to smile. I felt a little guilty.

"Ah, I hate clam chowder," he said, picking up his menu.

"You know what, me too," I said, folding the paper and putting it in my pocket.

We spoke for what simultaneously felt like an eternity and a single minute. It felt timeless, effortless, and before I knew it, we were the only ones left in the restaurant. When I took a look around, I was shocked back into reality, suddenly very keenly aware of the passage of time. I checked the clock. It was nearly ten. Suddenly, I felt strangely nervous, as if I had just missed an important appointment, or had somewhere else to be and suddenly realized I was about to be late. But I had no plans for the night. And I suddenly worried if Kyler had make plans for us. And in a terrifyingly comforting moment, I realized I'd be okay if he had.

"Well, I should run to the restroom real quick," I said.

"I'll be here," he smiled.

That's when I walked to the sink, not even bothering with the toilet, and looked at myself.

"So, what's the catch?" I ask myself.

This day had been pretty bad. And my position on dating was pretty solid. I felt lonely, I was watching a corny romance, I don't actually want to date. Getting to know someone seems exhausting, and having to change myself to be palatable for someone else just feels like something I'm not ready to do right now.

But the conversation had been so effortless. Like me, he didn't like small talk. He also wanted to get right to the point, right to the heart of who we both were. And he seemed very okay with who I am. I wanted to leave, I didn't hold back. I came in ready to leave, yet he somehow changed my mind. If I could meet more people like him, have more days that end like today, maybe I could be happy after all.

More people, like the waiter. Hayden had been so straightforward and had just given me his number. And he was more my type. Tall with pretty eyes. Straightforward without being pushy.

But he had given me his number while I was on a date. That was a little pushy. Besides, I don't know anything about him. I do know Kyler. His laugh, his trauma, his potential. His ability to make time stand still and race all at once. It almost seemed too perfect, and yet, so terribly timed. I wasn't in the mood for a relationship. I wasn't ready.

But love isn't meant to be predictable. We aren't meant to see it coming. It finds us, not the other way around. You aren't meant to be ready for it. And the chance for it doesn't always stay, contrary to romance films. Love isn't meant to stand still.

Maybe that's the catch. Me. I need to act now, or lose a chance I didn't even know I wanted to take.

So, I crumble up the piece of paper, and without a second thought as to where the night might take me, I push open the door and take the first step.