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I’m not sure there's a way to share exactly what's on my mind without coming across like a psychopath.
“Do I?” I ask instead.
She smiles, arching a single eyebrow at me as she speaks. “I imagine your mind is moving at the speed of light all the time.”
I chuckle at her assessment of me. “That seems excessive, not to mention exhausting.” I want to steer the conversation and my thoughts in a different direction, so I ask a question on the spot. “Do you have any pets?”
She seems taken aback by my question as if it was completely unexpected, but the way her face lights up tells me that she's happy I asked. “I don't, but I've been thinking of getting a chameleon, or some frogs.”
It's such a departure from the usual cute and cuddly animals answer that I get from questions like these that I find myself at a loss for words. I don't know a lot about frogs, and I know even less about chameleons. Honestly, if she had said anything about a normal range of pets, even slightly abnormal ones like goats or chickens or horses, I’d have some conversation that I could make around that.
She waves her hand in front of my face. “Hello? I think I broke you. Sorry about that.”
But the thing is, she didn't. As strange as I feel, being completely out of my element like this, I'm actually glad she gave an answer that I don't have a response for that requires me to break out of the usual and see her as a whole, unique individual who is unlike anyone I’ve dated before. I can't give her the typical, charming, canned responses. I actually have to be candid and honest, and while that's difficult, it feels better.
“I just don't know anything about frogs or chameleons. Other than what the average person knows, I mean.” I take another bite of my pizza and she pops a jalapeno slice into her mouth, eyeing me the entire time. “So, why would you want a frog as a pet?” My limited experience of girls and frogs are the boys that used to chase the girls with the frogs while the girls screamed and ran in the other direction as fast as they could.
She swallows her bite and begins to pick at her pizza, removing a bit of pineapple and placing it on a bit of ham as if building the perfect bite. “I mean, outside the obvious reasons like the fact that they are low maintenance, don't need walks, constant attention, and you don't have to clean up poop or anything like that, the main reason that I like frogs is because they're beautiful, they're colorful, and they make a natural music that makes me happy.”
I've never been interested in frogs before in general, but with this answer, I found myself wanting to learn more about them. Something about her enthusiasm has me excited about a creature I’d never put much thought into before.
Her gaze meets mine. “Is that a satisfactory answer?” There's sass in her voice as she asks the question, and I can't help but grin.
“More than satisfactory. I might actually consider a frog as a pet for myself.” I finish my slice of pizza, watching the way that she lights up at my words and does a little happy dance with her shoulders.
“You're welcome,” she says, as if she's bestowed a gift on me, and in a way she has. I like when my views are challenged. I like having to think from a new perspective. And I like learning more about her. Somehow she manages to surprise me every time she opens her mouth and that’s exciting.
When we finally finish our pizza, I feel full, content, and happy with the direction of the day. I can’t help but remember how she’d lit up when she thought I was going to kiss her. I very nearly planted a kiss on her lips after her very visceral reaction, but decided I didn't want to push things. Not a rush with her. I want her desperately, but I'm not going to try to hurry.
I remember the excitement in her face while we'd been playing table tennis and the look she'd given me when she won a game, as if she thought I let her win. I think that I've made the right decisions all day long and that she's enjoying our time shared together. And that's exactly what I was hoping for.
I want her to have one day where she doesn't think about her ex, wonder what he's up to, or feel guilty that she's not bailing him out. She needs to enjoy herself - and I’m happy to be part of that joy.
“So what’s next?” she asks, giving me a shy glance as we stand up and make our way from the restaurant out onto the main deck.
I'd planned sometime just by the pool for both of us. Every time I see her, she's wearing her swimsuit underneath her clothing, so I assume she likes to swim. But as we make our way over to the pool, I see a crowd of people.
“What are they doing?” she asks, lifting a hand to shade her eyes as she watches the crowd.
I glance down at my phone where I have the boat's itinerary handy.
I can't hold back a chuckle as I glance at her. “It sounds like they're doing a sexy legs, sexy abs competition.”
I see shock register on her face, followed by excitement, and know what we have to do next. Taking her hand, I pull her toward the crowd. “I am confident your legs can win this.”
She laughs. “How about your abs? Are you up to the challenge?”
I shrug and she giggles as I lead her toward the legs side of the competition. She enters, quickly signing her name on the roster as I make my way to the other side, having a good time as the other guys and gals offer words of encouragement, even though we’ll be competing. There’s an air of humor, fun, and excitement that’s positively electric, and I blame that atmosphere for me doing something I’d never in a million years consider doing - an abs competition.
The rules seem simple as someone with a megaphone shouts them out. In groups of five, we’ll line up, one winner will be picked from each group. Winners will go to the next round. I glance at Zoe and see her bent nearly double laughing at something someone says to her. My heart thumps with excitement and I take off my suit jacket, then my button-down shirt.
I hear whoops and hollering around me and realize people are yelling at me. I grin, then lock eyes with Zoe and see her stunned expression. She gives me a thumb’s up and I nod, guessing she had no idea what I look like under my suit - a fair assessment.
I breeze through the first round and make my way to the winner’s circle where she waves at me from her respective winner’s circle.
“Let’s make this more interesting,” she shouts.
“I’m listening,” I say.
