Page 18 of Trial and Error

I smile down at my phone. I can’t wait to see him either.

Malik is early, which is very unlike him, and I’m running behind.

I hate being late. I hate leaving anyone waiting, but Malik waits patiently in the living room as I put my earrings in. I spent most of the twenty minutes waiting for Malik in my underwear because I had no idea what to wear. Imani was gone out for dinner so I couldn’t ask for her advice, and Natalie’s with Katherine. Thankfully, I’m not completely inept and managed to find a cute cornflower blue summer dress in the back of my closet.

I debate wearing sneakers with the dress because Malik has never really cared too much about what I’ve worn when we’ve hung out before, but then I remind myself that we’re not friends tonight. We’re Malik and Bridget, two people going on their first date. So, as I duck out of my room, I grab the pair of white kitten heels that are tucked under the end of my bed.

Malik sits on the couch, looking down at his clasped hands as I walk in. He doesn’t see me right away so I take the moment to slip on my heels and straighten out the creases in my dress.

As my right heel touches the floor, Malik looks up from where he’s sitting and pushes himself up. His dark eyes take their time making their way down my body, pausing briefly on the dip of my waist before continuing their perusal down to the tips of my toes.

“You look beautiful,” he says, taking a step forward. “I like this colour on you.”

His hand reaches forward and he tucks his thumb under the strap of my dress and untwists it. Goose bumps spread across my skin as his thumb gingerly brushes over my collarbone as he returns the strap to its rightful place.

“You’re wearing a dress shirt,” I say, my hands flattening against his chest and running over the cream fabric that clings to his torso like a dream. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress shirt.”

Malik shakes his head and his hands circle around my wrists. “That’s a lie—I wore one at prom.”

I roll my eyes and look up to see his gaze already on me. “What? Do I have smudged lipstick?”

“Not yet.” I raise my brow at his comment, and he chuckles. “Wishful thinking.”

I lean up and press my lips against his cheek and then playfully push him away. “Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll make it a reality for you.”

Malik whistles lowly and runs his thumb over his bottom lip. “Come on, let’s go. Otherwise we’ll miss our reservation.”

I grab the cream cardigan hanging on the back of a dining chair on our way out, and I smile as Malik holds out his hand, waiting for me to take it in mine. I don’t keep him waiting long because as soon as my skin touches his, he links our fingers together and squeezes.

He doesn’t tell me where we’re going until we’re parking along the street in Downtown Briarwood. He puts the car in park, and like the gentleman he is, he hops out and jogs around the front of the car to open my door.

I slip my hand in his and don’t let go of it until we’re inside the restaurant. He made a reservation at a Mexican place I’ve been wanting to try for months. The waitress leads us to a small table which sits against a floor-to-ceiling window. The air conditioner is on full blast, and I’m thankful as I take a seat on the wooden chair because the summer evenings have been relatively warm recently.

The two of us look over the menu and as soon as my eyes land on Birria tacos, my stomach rumbles. “Do you want a margarita?” I ask as Malik looks at the drink menu.

“Absolutely,” he replies. “I need something to calm my nerves.”

I can’t help but blush at his admission. “I’m nervous too,” I tell him quietly.

I’ve tried my hardest to convince myself all day that I have nothing to be nervous about and that it’s just us, but that’s the whole point of us being here—to break away from being just friends. Malik isn’t stupid, he knows that I’ve liked him for just as long, if not longer, as he has, but I never thought we’d actually be doing this—going on a date. When I was younger, and before I knew how he felt, I always daydreamed and wished he would ask me out.

And now that it’s happening, I can’t help but feel nervous. Nervous that we’re about to ruin our friendship. Nervous that I can’t be what he needs. Nervous that I’m not good enough.

Malik rubs the back of his neck and laughs awkwardly. “Fuck, why does this feel so…weird?” He looks up at me, a blush dusting over his cheekbones. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long, and I guess I’m just worried I’m going to fuck it up somehow.”

I reach across the table and give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Malik Kingston blushing over me, who would’ve thought?” I tease, and that seems to relieve some of the tension in his shoulders. “I get it, though. I’m nervous it’ll ruin years of friendship between us, but like you said, we can see how it goes, and if it doesn’t work out then things don’t have to change between us. I’ll love you regardless—romantically or platonically, you’ll always be my best friend.”

Malik brings my hand up to his lips and brushes his pillowy lips against my knuckles, and the look in his eyes has me blushing.

“Are you guys ready to order?” The waitress pops up out of nowhere, taking us both by surprise. “Or do you need a few?”

“We’ll start with two of the mango margaritas, please,” I order for us, and Malik looks over at me with an amused look. “What?” I ask once the waitress has gone.

“You’re ordered for me—it was cute.”

I narrow my eyes playfully. “I ordered for you because I know you’re indecisive as hell and we would’ve had to wait ten minutes for you to decide if you want the mango or coconut.”

Our waitress comes back and takes our food order before leaving the two of us to talk amongst ourselves. We fall into conversation easily. We talk about work, Asha, my parents, his parents, and Imani. When our food comes, the two of us fall into a comfortable silence, talking only to exchange comments about the meal or share each other’s food.