The thought process.

I thought my brain was going to melt from overheating. Seriously, it was like I had overclocked it or something and was working beyond its normal limits. Well, both my brain and my heart.

It felt like being underleveled for a boss fight or having to perform a new song after only a few days of practice. Plainly put, I lacked experience with this sort of situation, so I had to rely on the meager skills I had. Turns out, though, I… already had everything I needed.

I did not read Diana’s mind, if you can believe it. It just didn’t happen, and I had to wonder if it was because I didn’t need it. After our first and brief interaction at the hotel, along with what little I could gather from what Maria told me, it was all plain to see to me. Diana had social anxiety, just like me.

It didn’t manifest in the same way. She could speak just fine, she didn’t stutter or hesitate once the words began to come out. Instead, it showed in her eyes, in her frown, in her clenching hands and in her cold voice. Like instinctual attempts to push people away, all to protect herself. And assuming I was right, I had only one course of action: be the way others had been for me.

It was a strange sensation. I **** myself to talk, to make conversation, but I wasn’t lacking on topics, even though we were alone. I just had to be brave and say what was on my mind. I admit, it was hard to tell if it was working, but I had a feeling it was, so I pushed on.

I drew on the few experiences I had of times when I could speak freely, be confident with people who weren’t my friends or my girlfriends. Diana and I weren’t close, so I couldn't act like we were. Instead, I drew on my experience working at the coffee shop, treating customers with politeness and warmth to make them feel welcome. But that wasn’t enough. I couldn’t just be… ‘professional’ around a person I wanted to get close to. Professionalism put a barrier between employee and customer. So I drew on something else, my interactions with children, like Sarah’s little siblings. It wasn’t to say I wanted to treat Diana as a child. If anything, the age gap between us made me feel like I had to be more respectful, call her ma’am or Ms. Diana or something like that, but that would only make things more awkward between us, I thought. No, what I focused on was the way I felt when talking and playing with Sarah’s siblings. That lack of pressure, that desire to treat them well, with care and respect instead of condescension. And finally, there was my own experience. I knew in the flesh what it was to have anxiety make you act in ways you didn’t want to, and I also knew what it was like to find people who recognized that and looked past it.

My efforts did earn me a compliment and the confirmation that she didn’t look down on me for my… dating history, so things were looking up.

Why did I bring that up, you ask? I wanted to get it out of the way a soon as possible. If I had to spend the whole date wondering if she thought I was a womanizing asshole or not, I’d need to spend the entire next day in bed recovering from mental fatigue.

If possible, I wanted to prevent us from falling into an awkward silence while we waited for our two other friends, so I tried to keep the conversation going. It did cross my mind that maybe talking more would make her uncomfortable, but contradicting thoughts would result in inaction, as always. Choose a path and stick to it.

“So you’ve known Maria since university?” I asked Diana.

She nodded. “Yes. For about eight years now,” she said. I noticed her tone was becoming a bit softer by the minute, but it could also just be wishful thinking. “I owe her a lot.”

I chuckled. “So do I.”

After a short pause, it was Diana who asked a question next. “How is working with her?”

“It’s fun. She’s taught me a lot, and I’m closer to my goal thanks to her.”

“Goal?”

I flinched. That came out without realizing it, but I already said it, so… “Nothing concrete. Just… pushing myself to do things I couldn’t do before.” I didn’t want to make things about myself, so I kept it at that.

Thankfully, Thomas and Maria arrived just then.

“Sorry we’re late!” Maria said, hands together in front of her face as they walked up to us. “I have no excuse. My phone is 10 minutes behind.”

“That’s an excuse,” Diana and I told her in shocking unison. We stared at each other, blinking before we both chuckled. It was my first time seeing her smiling, and it was beautiful.

“Sorry, sorry,” Thomas said, a big, dumb grin on his face. “I was with her, but I didn’t bother to check the time. Still, ten minutes is not THAT bad, right?”

“It’s bad because it’s always ten minutes,” I told them both.

“Anyway,” Maria said, pushing that matter aside with no subtlety at all. “You two seem to have gotten to talking already, right? Diana, this is Thomas.”

“A pleasure,” Thomas said with a short nod. “Maria talks about you a lot.”

“Probably to tell embarrassing stories of me,” Diana told Maria.

“Hah! I wish! You barely have any worth telling, Ms. Perfect.”

Diana shook her head, but there was another smile on her face. Small, but honest and… grateful.

“Okay, then. Let’s go. I brought you all here today to destroy you, so get ready to start crying.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Thomas said, smirking confidently. “I’m a regular here, too.”

Of course he was.

“Oh? You never told me that.” Maria grinned. “Maybe I’ll have some competition for once.”

And then there was me, who had never played before. Oh well. It still looked like it would be a fun time. Already having those two around changed the entire vibe, and for the better. Maybe the double date was a good idea, after all.

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