Gravity | ONC 2023

Chapter 3

Eloise

I don't actually know what James is talking about right now. Physics maybe? I think Katie said he was an engineering major. And it's not just that I don't understand. (I don't. I'm not an engineering major.) I'm actually, genuinely, not listening. I tuned out about ten minutes ago. I'm staring at our waitress.

James decided that our blind date should take place here, in a little diner near campus. It's cute, one of those diners that you think of when you think "diner vibe." The booth cushions are baby blue and so are the waitstaff uniforms - dresses for the girls and slacks and jackets that look like they should only be worn by chefs for the guys. There's even a jukebox in the far corner near the bathrooms. I don't know if it actually functions since the Broadway music playing is obviously coming from a pair of speakers situated awkwardly in the passthrough window from the kitchen. But it looks cool.

It's not really where I expected we'd go for a first date. But I guess we are both students. On student budgets. In New York City. And even the most run down of places is going to charge at least ten dollars for a burger. And that's with nothing on it. Not even cheese. I should be grateful he didn't just take me to a campus dining hall.

That has happened to me before. Don't ask.

Anyway, our waitress is gorgeous. Her dark brown skin is offset by blonde - actually, more like gold - curly hair that's all bunched on the top of her head in a bun. The hat the waitstaff is supposed to wear - also baby blue - is precariously pinned to one side. But she pulls it off. She could probably pull anything off. She could pull a garbage bag off. And I've been staring - discreetly, hopefully - at her for the last ten minutes, ever since she came to take our order. Right now, she's bustling back and forth behind the counter, refilling coffee cups and chatting with and smiling at the people on the stools.

"Eloise?"

I turn back to James, who's staring at me expectantly with his big blue eyes. Did he ask me a question? Oh God, he did, didn't he?

"Sorry," I say, giving what I hope is a winning smile. "I got distracted by, um..." Think, Eloise. "I, uh, I thought I saw our food come out of the kitchen, but it was for someone else. What did I miss?"

"I just asked if you've ever been to a building expo." He has this really sweet southern accent that reminds me of Will LaMontagne from Criminal Minds. He actually looks a bit like Will LaMontagne.

"A building expo?"

"Yeah. It's like...this big trade show for architects and construction companies and interior designers. There was a really big one at the Javits Center last month."

Right. He's into architecture. I guess I wasn't far off. You have to have some sort of engineering background to be an architect, don't you? I don't know. Maybe if I'd paid more attention to what he's been saying since we sat down, I'd know.

"Eloise?"

I am the worst. "Wow. Sorry. I'm really out of it tonight," I say, shaking my head and focusing on him again. "No, I haven't been to a building expo. Sounds interesting."

"It was!"

Why am I not surprised he went? But he's cute when he's excited. He's just cute in general. He's long and lanky and he has a pile of wavy brown hair on the top of his head. And he's got freckles. And blue eyes. I'm a sucker for freckles and blue eyes. Too bad he's boring as hell. And has only talked about himself. He hasn't asked me a single question. Just started on his life story. Literally. He started with "I was born in New Orleans, Louisiana" and went nearly step by step from there. I'm all for really getting to know someone on a first date, but...did I really need to know all about his first kiss in the seventh grade?