Calculus of the Heart

Chapter 20

As I walk up Catherine's driveway, my heart beats in an erratic rhythm, each step echoing with anticipation. It's Tuesday afternoon, and the leaves crunch under my feet as I approach her house. The air is crisp and cool, carrying the earthy scent of autumn, and I can see Catherine's silhouette through the front window.

I pause at the door, smoothing my hair and wiping my sweaty palms on my skirt. The past few days have been a whirlwind of emotions, and this thing with Catherine has changed everything. I'm stepping into something new and exhilarating, but the unknown makes me nervous.

I raise my hand to knock, but the door opens before I have the chance. Catherine stands there, her smile warm and welcoming. She looks effortlessly beautiful in a long sleeved shirt and jeans, her golden hair cascading over her shoulders. Her brown eyes, rich and warm, meet mine, and I feel a jolt of excitement.

"Hey," she says, her voice as inviting as her smile.

"Hey," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in my stomach.

She steps aside, gesturing for me to come in. "Come on in. I hope you're hungry because I thought we could make dinner together."

"That sounds great," I say, stepping into the familiar warmth of her home. The scent of lavender fills the air, wrapping around me like a comforting embrace.

We walk into the kitchen, which is filled with a warm, golden light from the setting sun. Ingredients are laid out on the counter—pasta, tomatoes, fresh basil, and garlic—promising a simple yet delicious meal. The sight of it all makes my stomach rumble in anticipation.

"What are we making?" I ask, moving to stand beside her.

"Pasta with tomato sauce. Something easy but good," Catherine replies, handing me a knife and a cutting board. "You can chop the tomatoes while I start the sauce."

I nod, eager to help, though my hands tremble slightly as I start slicing the tomatoes. The task is soothing in a way, allowing me to focus on something other than the tumult of emotions swirling inside me. The kitchen fills with the sizzle of onions and garlic in the pan, their aroma mingling with the fresh scent of basil.

As we work side by side, the conversation flows naturally. We talk about everything and nothing, the ease between us punctuated by shared glances and smiles that linger just a little too long. The atmosphere is comfortable, but there's an undercurrent of something electric humming beneath the surface.

At one point, Catherine moves behind me to grab something from the cupboard. Her arm brushes against mine, a light touch that sends a thrill through me. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat, and she pauses, glancing at me with a teasing smile.

"Sorry," she murmurs, her voice low and amused.

"It's okay," I reply, though my voice comes out a bit breathless. Her nearness is intoxicating, and I find myself gravitating toward her without even realizing it.

Once everything is simmering, Catherine leans against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. Her sleeves are pushed up to her elbows, revealing the smooth skin of her forearms. The casual pose only highlights her attractiveness, and I find myself momentarily lost for words.

"So, how are you feeling about everything?" she asks, her gaze steady and full of warmth.

"It's been a lot to process," I admit, meeting her eyes. "I mean... I've kissed girls, slept with them—I know I like girls. But... I've never actually been with one. Never been with anyone, really. And I've never felt like this."

Catherine's expression softens, and she steps closer, closing the distance between us. Her presence is reassuring, and her eyes hold a promise of understanding. "Let me be your first."