To a kooky local eatery

Right across the street from the campus, there is a place that serves everything on a waffle, or in a waffle sandwich, calling itself: "The Real Waffle House."

In ten years, or even five, you might not consider this a great spot for a first date with a very attractive girl. But you are nineteen, carless, and utterly unpretentious. So you sit down across from her at "The Real Waffle House," surrounded by framed photographs of the biggest waffles you've ever seen, held up by large men looking into the camera with disbelief. "The Biggest Waffle You've Ever Seen" is an actual menu item, and if you can finish it, you eat it for free.

"I've never been here," Alice says, to start off conversation, her fingers seem to be dancing with each other, alternating between nervous twitches and weaving around themselves.

"Really?" You look around at the various college kids seated at the tables around you. "This is where everyone comes. When they don't want to eat at the cafeteria, I mean."

"I..." Her hands suddenly freeze. "...Haven't made many friends, here. Yet."

It's understandable. Everyone just got out of being sequestered in their house for almost two years.

You say, "you've made at least one."

That gets a smile out of her, and it is a beautiful smile that lights up her entire face. She says. "Maybe more than friends?"

You're shocked at the boldness of it, so much so that you forget to say anything. Her smile suddenly droops. She blinks rapidly, then puts her head in her hands and says. "Oh my god, I'm being so stupid. I'm sorry."

"No. That's okay," you say, and reach across to her, touching her arm. "Comments like that are totally expected here, actually. I was more surprised that you were the one saying it. A lot of the time you seem so...inhibited."

"I know," she says. "I've always had anxiety. And, you know, it got worse since..."

Yeah, makes sense.

Instead of focusing on that, you say. "Your brother is really different than you."

It works. Her head is out of her hands, and she's rolling her eyes. "I know. I sometimes feel like, being the guy, he took all the balls in a figurative sense, too."

You actually laugh at that. She can be surprisingly funny when she wants to. And your laugh encourages her. She goes on.

"It's not just a joke, though!" She puts her hand over yours squeezing it, imploring you to pay attention. "Like, when you have a twin you end up getting this kind of magical thinking about things. It's this weird sense of 'did he steal that from me? Did I have it in the womb, and he took it?'"

"I've definitely heard weird stories about twins. There's the whole made-up language thing."

"Oh, we did that," she says. "Yeah, I don't remember, but our parents told us. We'd talk to each other in words we came up with before we spoke English. They took videos of it, and they're floating around somewhere."

"So he was always...like this?" you say, tactfully.

She nods fervently. "Yes. I wanted to take some of the boldness not just for my sake, but for his, too. He's got way too much and it does not help him."

"It's funny, I've never seen you around with him, even though you are close. And I'm his roommate."

"I know. I'm trying to enjoy the opportunity to separate myself from him, after being locked in a house with him for so long," Alice says. "He did invite me to the big party, though. The Delta...Beta...?"

"Delta Gamma," you correct.

"Right." She nods. "I think I'll go. I know that the 'not having friends' thing is kind of a problem. I want to socialize with people, here, not just get good grades."

"That is...seriously jumping into the deep end," you say.

"I think it's easier for me, to do it that way." She looks off, contemplating. "Like it's a perfect metaphor, because a lot of people jump into the deep end on purpose. They immerse themselves in the water when it's cold so that their body doesn't have that contrast between hot and cold that makes the cold even worse. It's like that for me. When I'm allowed to be a total shut-in, I'll take advantage of it. So when we go, he's going to drive me. I'm not even going to take my own car. I'm leaving when he does."

You feel two emotions about this at the same time, warring with each other. On one hand, that's admirable of her. On the other...

"What if something goes...wrong?" you ask.

"Well, I assume he'll be there, to make sure I'm okay," she shrugs. "And...you will, right?"

There's an air of hope about her. You don't want to dash it, but you want to be careful.

"If I can get in," you say. "Apparently it's invite-only. But I'll promise you this: If you see me there, I'll look out for you."

She grins again, and you find, slowly, that you're getting addicted to that smile. That you'd do anything to see more of it.

From there, conversation flows a lot more naturally. You find out that she loves Kpop, and she can't help but start gushing as she talks about her favorite bands. It's not somehting you even understand, but her enthusiasm, especially once it's utterly unselfconscious, is infectious. She tells you that the reason she got into yoga is because she loves (of all things) bouldering at the local climbing gym, and she loves being able to try it again and again.

"It does this weird thing that shuts off my anxiety," she says. "No matter how many times I fail or in front of how many people, the wall will always stay the same, the reason I failed is totally objective, and I can always try again."

You consider the source of her social anxiety as she says that. How unfair it is that people hide everything from each other, especially when it's negative. How it encourages a kind of hypervigilance to see through people's masks, to know if you've done something wrong and they're just being nice and hiding it from you.

After you're done eating (you joke about getting the giant waffle, and Alice lightly slaps your arm) you walk her back to her dorm room, and find yourself struggling to let her go. She's laughing about some stupid joke you made, one that you, yourself, didn't even pay much attention to or remember, when you finally work up the gumption to turn around and leave. The sun has somehow dipped low, by now.

"Well," you say, appropriately. "Good night."

"One sec," she says.

And before you can do anything, before you see it coming, she leans in and kisses your cheek. Then smiles as she leans back."

"What...holy crap," you stammer out.

"Well, it was a date, wasn't it?" She smiles, and for once it's confident. No fear that she's done something wrong.

And she hasn't.

You walk back to your own dorm, floating on cloud nine.

Alice (Love) +10