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My eyes dart to the clock in the corner of my screen. It’s seven o’clock, but his message came in at three. He probably thinks I blew him off. I shoot out the first thoughts that come to my head and jam the send button with shaky fingers.

ME:

Helping you with the rabbits sounds great. You’re getting me out of a date, LOL. Where do I meet you?

Then I respond to my friends with a self-satisfied grin on my face.

ME:

Sorry, guys! I’m busy tonight. I uploaded a new episode today, though.

I attach a few arrogant, smiling devil emojis and a GIF of Michael Scott bowing onThe Office, then scurry back to my bedroom to get ready for my rabbit-spying outing.

I don’t know what else to call this. Research? Volunteering for the Biddeford Land Trust? A service project with a friend? It doesn’t matter, I guess. I get to go back into the woods at the perfect time of day for a sighting. That’s all I care about, I remind myself.

I’m blow-drying my hair—dangling upside down and barely staying upright thanks to the concussion—when my phone lights up with an incoming text. I snatch it off the bathroom counter,fumbling the blow dryer in the process. I feel like I downed a few energy drinks and ate a whole bag of marshmallows. I’m keyed up and bound to embarrass myself tonight if I don’t calm down. I need to chill out. Peeking at the screen, I see that it’s just Marlow. I take a calming breath.

MARLOW:

What on earth are you busy with?

First of all, I’m offended at the implication that I don’t have a life outside of my friends. This is the first time Ihavehad a life outside of them, but still. It stings. And I’m doing something meaningful tonight. It’s time to mount my high horse.

ME:

I’m helping Adam with a project he’s doing with New England cottontail rabbits tonight. Did you know they’re endangered? I can’t go on a date.

DIANA:

Dying over here. It sounds like you can’t go on a date until you’ve solved the rabbit crisis once and for all. Like you’re taking a moral stand. Stevie won’t date until there are rabbits hopping around all of our feet and she can rest easy.

MARLOW:

Except it sounds like she IS going on a date with Shirtless Adam. Thanks for making our job easy, Stevie.

Diana gives Marlow’s message a big red one-hundred-percent emoji that makes my hackles go up.

ME:

It’s not a date. Adam wanted help with this rabbit thing. That’s all.

DIANA:

Are you sure about that?

ME:

Trust me. Adam didn’t ask me on a date. He asked me because he can tell I’m comfortable in the woods, and I’m free labor.

MARLOW:

What did he say exactly?

I pause, thinking back on our conversation in the preserve this morning. He was straightforward about asking for help, and his text wasn’t exactly flirtatious. This is not a date.

ME:

He said he’s monitoring endangered rabbits, and he asked if I want to help.