The Art of Being a Gentleman

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

DAVID PUT HIS phone down. Then picked it up. And then put it down again.

"Ugh," he groaned, throwing his head back against his pillow, staring up at the ceiling, frustrated by his own indecision.

It wasn't lame to call her just a few days after seeing her.

They were friends, right? Friends called each other to hang out. It was normal.

Before he could convince himself out of it for the hundredth time, David rammed his thumb against his phone screen, and waited for the call to go through.

Actually, maybe I shouldn't

His heart jolted in panic, but before could press the 'end' button, there was a soft click as the call had connected.

"Hello?"

David squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his fist against his temple, as he said in a cheerful voice, "Hannah! Hey."

Frick, he should've hung up.

"Hey David," she said slowly, a hint of confusion coloring her tone. "What's up?"

"Oh nothing, I was just...calling."

"Okay..."

Silence.

"Do you want to hang out?" he blurted once it had been unbearably quiet for too long. "We could meet at that park with the big fountain thing, maybe?"

"Sure," she answered easily, as though he wasn't acting like a total weirdo. "I can be there in ten, probably."

"Cool," he bobbed his head. "I'll um... see you there, then."

"Okay," she laughed. "Bye."

Click.

"Why are you so weird?" he groaned, smacking himself on the forehead.

Shooting up from his bed he quickly slid on his baseball cap over his messy hair, and headed out of the house before he could try and talk himself out of it. His long legs got him to the park in a little less than fifteen minutes, and he scanned the area for Hannah, trying to catch a glimmer of blonde or bright red.

Eventually he spotted her on a bench, legs stretched out across the whole thing like it was a comfy sofa and not a hard wooden structure. She was watching birds splash at the edge of the fountain, and kids with their families walk around it, some of them tossing in coins for good luck. Her lips pulled up into a smile as a little girl with pig tails walked on the edge, almost stumbling into the water.

David approached her slowly, taking his time to figure out what exactly he was going to say, but she must've heard the crunch of his footsteps, because her neck twisted towards him. Her big brown eyes locked with his, and when she smiled at him, everything he had thought he was going to say to her flew out of his mind.

"I'm a crier."

Her smile didn't disappear, but her eyes crinkled at the sides and brows furrowed. "What?" she laughed, uncertain what he was even talking about.

"One time I was driving with Mack's family and his dad accidentally hit a deer. I... I lost it. We had to sit on the side of the road while I collected myself, and we were late to the movies because of it," he told her, despite the heat rising up the back of his neck. He had sworn Mack to secrecy over that story, and the embarrassment felt fresh with Hannah watching him like he was a kid on the playground doing something silly.