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11
LUKE
Iflopped onto my couch and reached for the TV remote. Monthly lunches with the senior pastor were an interesting idea in theory, but man. I hated them. If it was just me and Pastor Chaz, it might be fine. Probably would be. But of course his wife had to be there. And she spent the whole time looking for places to slide in subtle—and not-so-subtle—questions about my dating life.
Because apparently an unmarried youth pastor was a problem for her.
I turned on the TV and stared at the menu of streaming options. My landlord had said it would be fine if I wanted to use his cable, but right now that wasn’t another expense I wanted to add. I wasn’t sure what I’d want to watch that I couldn’t stream anyway. I didn’t care much about professional sports, and most games I cared about, I could find a way to watch.
Mostly, I just wanted some noise in the background to drown out the sounds of the family living their happy life upstairs.
I navigated to a knife forging show and hit Play on the next episode.
I watched for a few minutes before digging my phone out of my pocket and staring at it. I should call Kayla. Ask her out again. Maybe be a little clearer about the purpose of the outing and the choice of restaurants.
Except really, what was the point?
Would texting be easier?
Mom and Dad would say it was a copout. On the other hand, Mom and Dad had met on a message board and fallen in love over email before they ever met, so it wasn’t like they could really diss texting as a means to getting to know someone. They were all in if I wanted to take another stab at a dating app.
I scoffed.
My one attempt at that had basically labeled me an eternal loser. How many people went through the questionnaire and got told they were unmatchable? There couldn’t be many. Not when the app in question prided itself on all the successful, happy couples they’d brought together.
So, no. No more apps for me.
I thumbed open my phone and tapped Kayla’s contact before I could talk myself out of it. Again.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Kayla. It’s Luke.”
“Hey. How are you?”
I fought a groan. This was dumb. The whole thing. Except I’d really like to get everyone off my back. “Good. Ish. It was my turn for lunch with the pastor today. He rotates through the staff each week.”
“Ah. That’s nice of him.”
“I guess. I don’t get a ton of homecooked meals, so that part is definitely good.” Not that the pastor’s wife was an impressive cook, but the food wasn’t bad. The roast was tender, the potatoes weren’t gluey. And I always brought home a container full of leftovers that would last for at least two meals. I cleared my throat. “I was wondering if you might be free for dinner tomorrow. I realize it’s a school night.”
She laughed. “I have been known to go out on school nights.”
“So is that a yes?” Did that sound desperate? I definitely wasn’t trying to do that.
“Yes. When and where? I have a computer club meeting after school, so I should probably meet you.”
I winced as one of the guys on the TV screen burned himself with hot metal. Was it wrong to have her meet me? “Do you like Italian? There’s a good place in Old Town. Mia’s, I think it’s called?”
“Sure, I know it. That sounds good. What time?”
“Five?”
“I can do that.”
There was a long pause. Was I supposed to say more? “How has your day been?”
“Pretty typical Sunday. Church and lunch at the diner. Now I’m hanging out with my cats. I have a little grading I could do, but I try not to work on Sundays when I don’t have to. I have a new book I picked up yesterday that I was thinking of starting. I’ll probably call my parents later.”
