Happening

Jason couldn’t stop smiling.

He kept checking his phone, even though it hadn’t buzzed. Chloe had replied right away when he texted her earlier—something bubbly like “I’d love that! Where should we meet?”—and now it was only a matter of hours. No—minutes.

He had a date. With Chloe. The girl he’d been quietly obsessed with for half a year.

He didn’t care that it came right after he used the doohickey. He wasn’t thinking about side effects or ethics or “maybe reality just snapped again.” He was thinking about her eyes. Her smile. The number she wrote on the cup. The way her fingers had brushed his.

God, she was into him. He could feel it.

He spent too long in the shower. Rinsed off. Soaped up. Rinsed again. Shampooed twice. Checked himself in the mirror with an expression somewhere between disbelief and boyish excitement.

He toweled off and opened the drawer where he kept his small but very real collection: five lipstick tubes, carefully chosen over the last few months. Only one had ever felt perfect. It had that same warm cherry mocha tone. Just like Chloe’s.

He applied it carefully. Expertly. The color went on like silk. Deep red, with a hint of something sweet. It made his lips look fuller, his whole face more confident.

Something we have in common.

He threw on jeans and a slim-cut button-up, rolled the sleeves a bit, and ran a comb through his greying-but-thick hair. Not bad. Not bad at all.

The pub was cozy, amber-lit, with local beers and classic rock murmuring in the background. Jason got there early and grabbed a small table near the back. He checked his phone again. Then again.

Then she walked in.

He blinked.

She still had the ponytail—lavender, a little messy, just like always. But everything else was… different.

She wore a white off-the-shoulder top with tiny ruffled sleeves and a delicate lace trim. Her skirt was pink with little white hearts printed all over it, flouncy and pleated, bouncing just above her knees as she walked. Pink ballet flats. A soft, fuzzy cardigan draped around her arms. Her accessories sparkled—tiny silver heart earrings, a dainty bracelet, a little bow-shaped clip in her hair. Her makeup was soft and shimmery, her lips glossy with that same cherry mocha shade he wore.

She looked like she’d stepped out of a daydream. The girliest thing in the room—and somehow, the most radiant.

And she beamed when she saw him.

"There you are!" she squealed, hurrying over and hugging him tight—arms wrapped around his middle, cheek pressed against his chest for a second longer than necessary. "I was so excited I thought I’d explode."

Jason blinked. “Wow. Uh, you look…”

"Different?" she offered brightly, pulling back but keeping one hand lightly on his chest.

"I was gonna say beautiful," he said, recovering. "But yeah, kind of different too."

She giggled. "Yeah, I get that a lot when I’m not at work. I hate having to wear edgy stuff all day. Totally not me. I mean, I get why the café wants the aesthetic, but like…" she leaned in and whispered, "I’m way more into being cute than being cool."

She slid into the seat across from him, ankles crossing daintily beneath the table.

Jason sat too, heart racing. He was still trying to make sense of it. She was… different. He remembered her being cool, unreadable, sharp-tongued. Had she always been like this after hours? Was this just… her?

Or had he done this?

He didn’t get a lot of time to wonder.

Because Chloe was all in.

"So I need to ask," she said, resting her elbows on the table, chin in her hands, eyes glittering, "was this your idea, or mine? Because I honestly don’t remember who asked first—I’ve just been floating all day knowing I get to spend time with you."

Jason blinked. "Uh… I think I messaged you?"

She grinned. "Yup. Totally your idea. Classic man move. I love that."

She reached for his hand.

Her thumb gently stroked over his knuckles.

"You smell amazing, by the way. Is that cedarwood?"

"Uh—yeah. My shampoo, I think."

"Mmm. So masculine."

Jason felt heat crawl up his neck. "You’re, uh… really into this."

She tilted her head. "Of course I am. Aren’t you?"

"No—I mean yes! Totally. Just—this feels fast."

Chloe giggled and leaned closer. Her voice dropped to a silky whisper.

"You’ll get used to me being crazy about you. I can’t help it. You’re just… ugh. I don’t know. Like, the kind of guy every girl like me dreams about being with."

Jason blinked.

Chloe’s eyes shimmered. Her fingers curled lightly around his. She looked like she could melt right there in her seat.

"I mean it," she said. "Ever since I first saw you, all those months ago, I knew. You’re strong, but sweet. Kind of quiet, but still in charge. And that smile? Devastating. I’m like… totally yours already."

She bit her bottom lip, then giggled again—softer this time, more intimate.

"And don’t even get me started on how hot you are in that shirt. I’ve been imagining what’s underneath it since the second I walked in."

Jason swallowed. Hard.

She leaned in just a little more, brushing her knee against his under the table.

"You’re gonna have to tell me if I’m coming on too strong," she whispered, voice featherlight. "Because I really want to kiss you. Like… really bad."

His head was spinning. She was stunning. Sweet. Wildly affectionate. She couldn’t keep her hands—or eyes—off him. He’d barely said ten words and she was already ready to melt in his arms.

He nodded, dizzy.

Chloe’s smile turned bashful and excited all at once.

"Good," she whispered. "Because I want this to go really, really well. You don’t even know how long I’ve been dreaming of finding someone like you."

She sipped her drink again, then licked her lips—cherry mocha and sugar.

Jason had to remind himself to breathe.

Whatever was happening… it was definitely happening.