The Date

Ruby's Café was decorated almost entirely in wood and emerald. There wasn't a flicker of Ruby in the entire business. Not even a flicker of red. The owner's name was Ciro. In the roughly six years of living here, Dante had never figured out the name of the café. Abigail hadn't been on this block before, and Dante was certain that she wasn't from the City and was more than certain that she was a small-town or suburban girl besides. Most city people hardly ever look 'up'; rather, they tend to look 'around'. A discernible difference to the trained eye. Dante was graciously indulgent at her looking in at the windows of the boutiques lining the street. Eventually, they reached the sign to the coffee shop, even though it was emerald colored. Dante held the door open for her and a couple that was exiting. He gestured her inside.

The interior of the café was, as said, incredibly green and brown. There were lanterns of various makes scattered around about a dozen or so tables. There was a rather long line that Abigail had started to queue up in. Politely, Dante nudged her on the shoulder with the back of his hand and beckoned her towards the back. They carefully wedged their way past the narrow tables and the coffee bar. There was a booth by the service hallway, small but much more comfortable looking than the tables in the front. On the table was a small stand with a handwritten card that said: "Reserved". Dante gestured for Abigail to sit down, which she did with only a hint of trepidation. Dante joined her with a knowing smile. She was not so naïve as to question the reservation card, but not so bold as to bring it up in general.

A barista at the counter eyed them coolly, and Abigail shifted a bit in her seat. Before she could ask if they should get in line for their drinks, a short and stocky middle-aged man came out of the storage room muttering to himself. He turned suspiciously once he was abreast of the reserved table. Then his expression brightened considerably.

"Nipote! Quanto tempo è passato? Perché vieni solo di notte?" His eyes moved to the girl, and then back to Dante to wink with as much subtlety as a bull.

"È scortese parlare in italiano con gli ospiti americani, Ciro." Dante answered with a laugh, Abigail blinked and **** complacent grin. Dante continued, "Abigail this is Ciro, the owner of the finest café this side of the park." He beamed and nodded politely. To her credit, Abigail stood and greeted Ciro in the proper way. A faux kiss on each cheek, and at the end to everyone's surprise she carefully muttered "piacere" before resuming her seat. Ciro returned the words, a bit surprised.

"Ah-so, what will we have for-a drink?" Ciro leaned expectantly towards Abigail, it was the ladies place to order first, after all. She said "Cappuccino" with a bit of pride in her pronunciation. Ciro smiled and winked, this time at Dante as if there were some private joke. Dante didn't skip a beat, "A double espresso for me then." Ciro nodded and hurried behind the bar.

Abigail looked around for a moment at the walls, local artists selling their wares at local business was commonplace and it was no different at the Ruby. The ornate lanterns hanging from the ceilings and walls was a bit more unique. Artistic types liked it. Hipsters loved it. She returned her gaze to Dante to met her eyes expectantly. She looked as if she was trying to frame a delicate question, and Dante interjected politely. "Yes, my parents were from Italy. Have you been to the boot? Most other Americans can't pronounce 'piacere' to save their life without a little practice."

She blushed at that, "Oh that's wonderful, and yes we went to Rome on a church trip when I was in high school. I just remember a few phrases." Abigail seemed to tense up a bit again, Dante wasn't sure if she was flustered over mentioning church or high school again. He went to work to reassure her, yet again.

They idly chatter about Italy for a few minutes: Yes Dante had been, no his family was from south of there. No, not Sicily. No, Florence is actually north of Rome. No, it's alright. The city is called 'Napoli'. Oh you've heard of it? Yeah that's where pizza is from.

When Ciro had arrived with the drinks Abigail was beginning to get some traction in conversational confidence. "For the lady's colazione," he set down her cappuccino, "And for my nephew who must not enjoy ah-the sleep." The drinks steamed into the large brass lantern illuminating the table in the otherwise dark atmosphere. Ciro excused himself quickly to help the baristas.

While the drinks cooled, Abigail asked "Did he say cola-zione?" she considered for a moment, "that means breakfast, doesn't it?"

Dante smirked uncontrollably and pretended to not hear her as he blew the steam off his espresso shots. The freshman girl smiled expectantly, "What, did I mistranslate?"

"No, no. You were spot on." He took a sip, too hot, and he coughed a bit while trying not to laugh. "Don't think to hard on it, but in Italy it'd be quite peculiar to order a cappuccino unless it's breakfast time. It's not a hanging offense-" She playfully tapped him on the shoulder with a fist. Abigail laughed and that easy blush crept back into her face, though she had none of that school girl bashfulness from earlier.

"Oh god, I had no idea. Ha-ha. Well, I learned something new today."

They made small talk for another 30 or so: Abigail was from the mid-west, she carefully avoided mention of her parents, as did Dante, she wanted to study social work, Dante said that was tangential to sociology and he'd always be happy to help. Minutes until no amount of sipping could prolong the occasion. Abigail started to descend into petty timidity as she surely wanted to see Dante again, but did not want to put her self out there.

Dante stretched his neck and looked at the gaudy brass clock hanging near the fire exit door. "Well I should get going here Abigail, I've got work tonight." She fought looking disappointed, it didn't work, but he was hoping for this exact reaction. "Are you in the New Haven Building? I can walk you back. My apartment is just down the street." Honors program first years were often put in there, it was better than the regular dorms, but not much.

"Yes, that would be nice of you." She smiled politely. They both got up and headed towards the exit. Before the door, Abigail gasped and whispered, "Oh, Dante we forgot to pay the tab."

"Oh of course, how foolish of me." Ciro came out of the back as Dante approached the counter with his wallet open. Ciro cursed him in Italian playfully and moved as if to chase him out of the door. Outside on the street he explained, "Ciro and my parents are from the same town. He calls me his nephew, he'll let me tip the baristas but only if they make the coffee. He'd never let me pay a nickel otherwise."

"Oh, that's nice of him."

Dusk had nearly turned to night and ,the better part of the neon signs and streetlights were flickering alive. Though camputhe s was in a othanrwise decent neighborhood, the naivety of college students tends to draw the wrong sorts looking to take advantage of the situation. Dante knew this well, and he was reasonably certain that Abigail would've at least been warned. Dante was a night person by trade and preference and was a bit more aloof on the walk back to the girl's dorms. They chatted briefly about what pizza shops Abigail liked around campus, and if she had found a preferable Chinese restaurant since moving to town. Abigail's phone vibrated in her purse.

"Oh sorry, it must be my roommate." She looked at the front of the phone, let out a brief sigh, and answered.

"Hey Maddy! Yeah I'm a few blocks- Yeah I know I'm sorry. You didn't ask Lara across-. I know, I'm sorry. I was at the library and I met someone. No not from our floor. No, he isn't in- Yes." She gave a significant look of humiliation. "Yes I said he. Yes, in the library- Can we talk about this later? I'll be there in about 5 minutes. Okay. Okay. I know. I'm sorry. Bye."

Dante met Abigail's searching look with a wincing expression. Before she started to explain, Dante held up a hand. "Your roommate, overly possessive because she hasn't made any other friends. Probably doubly upset because you were hanging out with a guy, so she's going to seem protective because it's more civil than simply jealous. And I'm guessing by what time it is that she didn't go to the cafeteria alone and she missed dinner: social anxiety with a touch of narcissism."

He thought he'd get another rise out of her, he'd made it this far with humor, but she remained silent for another couple of steps.

"She's not a bad girl... she's just..."

"She's not the first first-year to not adapt well. It's still early, she might come around. Does she go out at all?" Dante stopped and turned. There was a street window for a pizza by the slice joint. The two of them got in line.

"Yeah, if booze is involved, she opens up a bit more. She drinks a little bit much, so I normally end up having to leave early to take her back. But dorm parties aren't exactly fun for either of us. It's her excuse to say that she does stuff besides sit on Reddit, and my excuse to go out without a second mother hounding me." Dante chuckled at that; they moved forward in line.

"Is she a vegan or a vegetarian?"

"What?", Abigail asked, confused. Dante nodded at the pizza menu ahead. 'Cheese. Pepperoni. Vegan.'

"Oh, she's a vegetarian. Thoughtful for you to ask, but why are you buying her pizza?"

Dante smiled knowingly. "A piece is a peace offering. Two pieces is peace."