Kindling for the Flames

I grabbed my phone and asked one final question.

where do you live again?

She told me the particular dorms she was staying at and where they were. I copied it and put it into a map app, but not before telling her what kind of car I drive so she'd know when I'm there.

The last thing I typed before I got out of my room was that I was on my way.

**

Although I spent most of my life around the city, I didn't realize I knew what the South Quad looked like until I had drove up to them. Composed of four large, fancy-looking towers that seemed like they came straight out of the 1850s, they were as imposing as the students that apparently resided there. It was the honors quad, and the more I looked at the tall, brick buildings, the more I could see why. And given the conversation we had, it only made sense that this was where Iva lived.

"God," I said to myself, taking in the splendor of the building and watching as students of all shapes and sizes walked in and out, all wearing different jackets and coats to beat the winter weather.

Thankfully, there was a parking lane right next to the building, and a spot was open that was large enough for my car. One irritating parallel park later, and I slipped my hand in my coat pocket to pull out my phone. I messaged Iva.

im here!

Almost immediately, she replied.

ok im on my way out :)

I turned my music down; while I had spent the entire time on my way there listening to classical music to calm myself down, I wasn't sure how she'd respond to it.

Not that I had much time to answer my own question, because before I knew it, she was standing right outside my passenger seat door, wearing a poofy black coat with a matching purse and with her hair in a low ponytail. Her cheeks were pink--whether from blush or the cold I didn't know, but given the mascara and the slight winged eyeliner, she was wearing a decent amount of makeup. I unlocked the door and let her in.

"Iva?" I asked as she slipped into the car.

She replied by asking me my name, to which I nodded.

"Good to finally get to meet you!" Iva said.

"As to you," I replied, feeling a slight bit of heat creeping up my spine. It was like I was realizing that I was actually going on a date with her now, and that she wasn't some catfish or anything like that. Iva was real, and she was putting on her seatbelt in my car. God, I thought the awkwardness would have gone away once he knew each other via Snapchat, but apparently not. It felt like every thought in my head came to a standstill.

"How've you been?" She asked, forcing me on my toes.

"I've been alright, looking forward to this," I remarked. "You?"

"Same," she huffed. "I'm glad there's something to get me out of classes for a bit, plus you seem like a nice guy."

"Glad you think that. You seem pretty cool yourself, from what you've told me."

She smiled. "Thank you."

In the small lull in the conversation, I slipped out of the parking spot and started driving over to the restaurant.

"So..." She asked, "where are we going?"

I looked over at her and gave her a small smile. "We're going to the Blue Hill."

"I've heard of that place," she said. "Some of my friends went there a weekend ago. I couldn't go because I was sick, but they said it was amazing."

"Rona?" I questioned.

"Thankfully not," she said. "I've been really careful about that."

"Same." I was paying more attention to the litany of lights and crosswalks as my car drove through the campus than I was to the conversation. It meant another lull, letting the music fill the space in the car. It might as well have been the static in my brain playing. Even though I knew a lot about her, it was almost weird how difficult it was to say something to her.

At least Iva liked to talk.

"I'm honestly surprised they still had reservations. I've heard that place is super popular."

As the car drove out of the university district, I made a left turn, heading more downtown.

"There's a lot of places that were full," I remarked. "The Blue Hill was like the tenth place I called!"

"I feel like a lot of them are reserved at least a month in advance," she replied, her tone almost flat.

"That's Valentine's Day for you," I scoffed before staring in my rear-view mirror, noticing Iva's expression turned towards the window and staring at a row of coffee shops. "At least it's not all bad, right?"

Iva turned her attention back to me. "I mean," she began, "I'm getting a free meal out of this, right?"

"As long as you don't buy the most expensive thing on the menu, I'll pay."

She giggled. "Don't worry, I won't do that even if it seems like the best thing there."

"I think it's like a 20-ounce steak of some kind."

"Oh, never mind. I could never eat that much," she said. "Imagine someone getting that for a Valentine's Day date. That's so much to eat!" She grimaced at the thought, making me glad that I wasn't that hungry, or at least hungry enough to consider tackling it.

"Yeah, I don't get it, either. Is it something you're supposed to share with someone? Maybe it's like a bottle of wine."

She shrugged. "I doubt it, though I think that'd be something some of my friends would do. Should I ask them?" Although I knew she was joking, she slid her hand in her coat pocket as if she was pulling out her phone.

"Do they even know we're going on a date?" I queried.

She paused for a few seconds, turning away from me and looking out the window once more. The music fought with the engine as the loudest thing in the car again. I blankly stared at the streetlight. I didn't expect to accidentally ruin things this early. I could see the Blue Hill and its sign flicking by the curb; it was so close, literally one green light away. I gripped tightly on my steering wheel, questioning if I should turn around or not.

Iva sighed and began.

"They don't. They actually asked me if I wanted to go on a group date with them, and they set me up with someone that seemed kinda lame. I ended up going on Tinder instead, and once we started talking, I said something about wanting to join, but they already had the reservation."

"Well," I said, taking a few moments to process that entirely. It would have been cool to meet her friends, but at the same time, it might have made things even weirder. It was awkward enough not having the scrutiny of her friends, but I couldn't help but sympathize with her. She just wanted to have fun. "That sucks."

"I know, right?" She huffed. "You better be a good alternative to being with them tonight."

"Don't worry," I reassured. "Dinner's on me."

The light turned green, and I started driving again, slowing down as we approached the restaurant, its parking lot filled with cars. "Jeez, this place is busy tonight," I said to myself as I turned into the lot. Beside me, Iva clapped and muttered something to herself.

"What was that?" I asked, not noticing that, as I approached the restaurant, a car with a parking spot right next to it was pulling out.

"My secret ability," she said. "I can get a great parking spot wherever I go."

"No kidding," I said as I turned into the spot, looking up and down the Blue Hill, a brick building with a blue roof that looked like a dome--almost like a blue hill. I turned off the car and opened my door, letting in a cool gust of late-winter air. I shut my door behind me and walked around the car to open her door, but before I could make it halfway around the car, she was already out, slamming the door behind her.

"Well," I said, "we're here." I darted my eyes from her face to the building a few times, the last few moments of disbelief of how far I've come coming to the forefront before reaching for her hand. In kind, she reached for mine, and I held her hand firmly. I just hoped my hand wasn't clammy or too sweaty.

Iva shot me a quick look, and as I tried to respond I realized that I didn't have any breath. Taking a deep breath, I tried again.

"We should look like a couple, right?"

After a few seconds, she looked at the restaurant.

"I'm fine with that. Now let's get something to eat. It's cold out here, and I'm really hungry." She tugged my arm impatiently. I tugged back before taking a step forward, leading her to the front door, scuffles of shoes accompanied by clacks of black high heels. The only reason we stopped was to show a bouncer our proof of vaccination before entering the Blue Hill.

I had never been to the Blue Hill, but the moment I opened the door, I felt almost a bit too over my head for this to be a first date spot. Kicking the snow off my shoes at the entrance, I looked inside the restaurant, almost completely dimmed bar the lit candles that were at every table, dotting the place with light. Classical music filled the air underneath layers of conversation--they probably were playing the same station that I played in the car. The sole exception to this was the bar, which rested at the center of the floor space and had dim, pink led lights overhead, giving the air an almost romantic vibe. Beside us was a podium with a sign that read to wait to be seated. A hostess stood behind it, who immediately greeted us.

"Welcome to the Blue Hill! Do you have a reservation?"

"Yes, actually."

I gave them my name and she took us to our table, which was in the back of the restaurant. Couples of all ages and orientations were sitting at the tables, some with filled glasses of wine, some with a bucket of ice and a bottle, and some focusing on their meals, different kinds of grilled meats and hamburgers. Some of them were bold enough to get one plate to share with their partner, which Iva was quick to point out after lightly elbowing my side.

Once we reached the table, we sat down, but not before I pulled out Iva's chair for her. She smiled as she sat down, thanking me as I pulled my chair out and sat down right across from her.

Once I sat down, I took the time to appreciate everything. From the warm air that led me to take off my coat to the atmosphere that surrounded us, to the way that Iva's bangs--something that wasn't in her pictures--framed her face as the candle (sadly a fake) illuminated it, being here was almost picturesque. Even if finding words was kind of difficult for me, with our previous conversation having lost all momentum, I stared at her, admiring her beauty as she made even the rather arduous task of taking off her coat look endearing.

"I don't know if I told you in the car," I said, "but you look amazing, by the way."

She smiled, a slight bit of pink rising in her cheeks. "Thank you."

And that conversation went as far as that. Silence filled the space between us as we waited for our menus, and a lanky waiter clad in all black showed up to help us out, giving us not just a menu for food, but one for drinks as well.

"Welcome to the Blue Hill," he said. "My name is Kyle, and I'll be serving you today. Do you guys want water to start out with?"

"I'm good with water," I said.

"I'll go with your sparkling lemonade," Iva replied.

"One water, and one sparkling lemonade, coming right up. I'll be with you two in a few minutes."

As Kyle turned away to get our drinks, Iva turned her attention back to me. "One of my friends said that their sparkling lemonade is a must if you come here. Well, either that, or one of their custom cocktails."

"I wouldn't be surprised if they were just serving wine tonight," I said. "It's Valentine's Day, after all."

"You're probably right," she said, grabbing one of the menus from the table and opening it up, looking through the listings on offer. After a few seconds, though, she turned her attention to me, lifting both eyebrows. Her eyes were sparkling. "You want to get a bottle?"

"Iva, we drove here. I should at least be somewhat sober to get you back to your dorm."

She looked down at her menu, the sparkles growing duller. "Right. Maybe we can get some later?"

"If you want to get a glass, I'll get one, too. I just don't want to be shit-faced and risk crashing my car."

"I get it," she said, rather dismissively, as she scanned the menu. I grabbed the other menu on the table and opened it up, looking through the appetizers.

"You want to get something to start off with?"

"I've heard that the lobster dip is really good."

It didn't take too long for Kyle to come back with our drinks and we ordered the dip. Iva also ordered for herself a glass of red wine and presented him her ID. Once he left, it took a bit longer for us to look through the menus to find what we wanted to order. As soon as I did, I closed my menu and set it down, knowing that if I looked for any longer I would have immediately found five other things that I wanted more. A bit more silence filled the air before she put her menu down as well, leaving us with all the time in the world to talk.

"You know what you're getting?" She asked.

"I'm probably just gonna get a sirloin. You?"

"I've heard their salmon is really good, so I'm gonna get that with their chili sauce."

I bit my tongue. Even that sounded just as good as what I was getting. "If I come here again, I'll probably get that. There's so many things here that just sound so good. I'm honestly using the sirloin as a litmus test to see how good their stuff is."

"I know, right?" Iva asked. "My friends raved the hell out of this place to me, like it's the best restaurant they've ever been to, and there's so much here!"

The conversation went on rather smoothly from there, discussing the food that they had and her friends. While Iva had been to many more restaurants around here than I had, I was able to make some sort of conversation, butting in occasionally to tell my own stories about the places she hadn't been before.

During one of those monologs, she reached for her drink and took a long sip of it. As much as I was trying to focus on my story, my attention was taken away by her lips as they wrapped around her straw, and how her cheeks caved in slightly, taking in her drink. She hadn't noticed me staring, but my talking had died down enough that when she pulled away, she filled the silence.

"Wow. They really weren't kidding about the sparkling lemonade. It's really good!"

"Can I have a sip?" I asked.

"Get your own," she said, her giggles immediately afterwards contradicting her words, as did her reaching over the table with her glass in hand, the straw pointed directly at me.

I leaned forward and took a sip, letting the refreshingly sweet and sparkly lemonade hit my tongue. Her friends really weren't kidding, and the only reason why I pulled away was because I saw Kyle with a glass of wine in one hand and a platter with lobster dip and pita chips in the other.

"Here's the wine for you, miss, and the dip for the whole table. Are you sure you don't want anything else to drink, sir?"

"I'm good, thank you."

"Not even a glass of wine?" Kyle asked.

"I'm driving tonight," I answered, an amused smile on my face.

"Knowing you, you'll probably have a bit of hers."

Iva put her cup down and started laughing. It was probably true, even if I weren't that huge into wine. Honestly, not a big fan of alcohol in general, but if it was that good, she'd probably do the same thing like what she did with the lemonade.

"Actually," I said, "can I have a sparkling lemonade?"

"Yes you can," he said. "By the way, what do you two want to have?"

I ordered my sirloin--medium rare--with a house salad and fries, and she ordered her salmon, rare. Once Kyle got the orders in and confirmed them with us, he took the menus from us and we got back to talking, with the only difference being that I was now sipping on the sparkling lemonade I had.

"Your friends really weren't kidding about the lemonade."

She laughed, and it segued into more talking about her friends and food. I listened in on everything, learning more about how they had taken her to as many restaurants as they could. They were absolute foodies, having chosen the best restaurant in town for their group date. According to them, though, the Blue Hill was the second best, and the best that wouldn't annihilate a wallet just by looking at the appetizers.

Between talking, we took the chips and enjoyed the dip. Salty, savory, buttery; the lobster dip was simply amazing and worthwhile of a "second best" status. I gauged the pace at which she ate, quite slowly, and mirrored her, making sure not to take as much of the dip as possible. Even if I was paying for it, I wanted her to enjoy it just as much as I did. Considering the conversation stayed on the dip for a few minutes, she was enjoying it.

She was also enjoying her wine, taking slow sips of it between bites of the lobster dip, even giving me a chance to take a taste of it for myself. I accepted, taking her goblet and taking a decent sip of it. I didn't want to seem too rude, even as the wine felt like it was burning my tongue, but I swallowed my sip and said that it was not my thing before giving it back to her. Also, I needed to drive home.

The wine was having an effect, though; not that I didn't find her to be absolutely beautiful, but the conversation grew a bit less restricted after that sip. I felt more comfortable talking, the inhibitions of looking as good as possible flying out the window. She laughed at more of the quips I made and laughed louder at them, even the few ones where I tested the waters of crassness.

It wasn't that Iva seemed pure; it was that sex never really came up until then--I wasn't going to blow this date on some lame one-liner--and she seemed entertained by it. Hopefully it wasn't the wine talking.

Iva also opened up a bit more. She told me about her latest breakup with this guy from one of her classes last year who was honestly a big dick. He broke up with her because his ego got the best of him; they had been the two best students in the class they were in, but his "bad boy" persona ended up radiating complete arrogance which grew to be way too much, and it got to the point of failure when Omicron hit and they lived together for a grand total of ten days before she called it quits. It's been relieving being single, even if she had been like that for only a few weeks.

She then told me the group date her friends planned was actually orchestrated as an attempt to get her another boyfriend, even if it ended up just being a group date for the rest of her friends. At the very least, she was thankful that she had found me, even if it was just to help her forget that her love life seemed to fall apart right before Valentine's Day. How criminal.

That was about as far as she got before the food got on the table, and we started eating, most of our time spent eating instead of talking to each other. The few occasions that we said anything were about the food which was, as to be expected, delicious. She even gave me a bit of her salmon and I gave her a bit of my steak as a trade, and as indifferent as she seemed about the steak, her salmon was absolutely delicious.

As the amount of food on our plates grew smaller, the conversation resumed, albeit with a different perspective from Iva.

"I'm just so glad that I got to spend Valentine's Day with someone who's nice, and not a complete dick."

I mainly stayed silent as she continued rambling off about how bad her ex was, giving her all the room she needed. I still had plenty of steak to eat, and on occasion I'd dip into the lobster dip or my salad. I gave nods from time to time, letting her know that I was still paying attention despite my eating.

"And honestly, you're hotter than him, too!"

It didn't matter if the wine had any weight in those words; it was enough for me to reach for my lemonade to glug down enough so that I didn't choke on my bite.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said, my voice a whisper at first before taking a deep breath. "Don't worry."