t w e n t y - s e v e n ; strike one 

The seatbelt buckles in place with a resounding click. A noticeable coconut air freshener wafts the atmosphere, a scent that I usually associate with Kai’s car. It’s a familiar, tiny detail that I have forgotten these past two weeks.

I roll down the window, letting in the brisk breeze from outside. “This feels weird,” I comment.

“Me taking you to your date?” Kai directs his attention on the road as he says this, yet it feels intentional, like he’s deliberating avoiding looking in my direction. If I listen closely, there’s an edge to his voice.

“Me being in your car after a while,” I correct, observing the stern crinkle between his brows. There’s some unspoken issue here that he isn’t vocalizing. “Are you mad? You look mad.”

“No,” he answers right away, but with more gruff than usual, making it hard to believe that he really means it. “Okay, maybe I’m a little frustrated that you’re so nonchalant about him not picking you up,” he admits.

So we are back into this topic.

“It’s just that he sounded really sorry in that text. Maybe he thought that I can drive?”

“And why didn’t you just tell him that you can’t?”

“I don’t want him to feel bad if the reservation got cancelled,” I comment, trying to keep impatience out of my voice. There are only a few moments where Kai and I don’t see eye to eye, and I dislike all those moments where I have arguments with him. It’s tiring to fight with someone who you would rather joke around and have light-hearted conversations with. “And what are you so worked up for? I thought you believe that he's a nice guy?”

“Yeah. But from an outside point of view, you’re not even bothered by this situation? Like let’s put it this way: If I’m going out with a girl, but another guy has to drive her to the location, then I’m doing a pretty terrible job as her date.”

Although I understand Kai’s point, and it would be a lie if I say that I’m not a little disappointed that Sehun can’t pick me up, I can’t find it in me to dwell negatively on this little mishap. It’s an honest misunderstanding on Sehun’s part.

“It’s just today, Kai. It’s not every day his shift gets extended.”

Kai remains silent, his lips forming a scowl. I know he’s looking out for me and being a good friend, so I completely understand where he’s coming from.

Before the mood gets too sour, I poke him in the arm at the red light. Finally, he turns his displeased gaze toward me for the first time since we entered the car.

“You’re a little protective of me, aren’t ya?” I , using a light and cheerful tone. “Frozen yogurt tomorrow? I’ll buy you anything you want.”

His scowl grows deeper in response. I pretend that he gave a different reaction. “Wait, what’s that? Oh is that a smile I see? How handsome wahhh,” I coo at him.

The corner of his lips twitches ever so slightly, like he’s debating whether to remain frustrated at me.

It’s a few minutes later when he speaks, “I want every single flavor tomorrow.”

The tension dissipates, causing my grin to widen. “Yes, sir.”

•   •   •   •   •   •   •
 

The sushi restaurant is only half a town away. When Kai turns off the engine, I am in no rush to get out. Rather, my nerves are hindering me from leaving the vehicle.

Kai drums his steering wheel with his index fingers. It’s quiet in the car except for the rhythmic sound of his tapping. “Nervous?”

He must have noticed my prolonged presence in the seat of his car. I blow out a shaky breath. Nerves are knotting in my stomach. “Yes.”

He stops drumming his fingers. “Just be yourself.”

“You’ve said that before.”

Multiple times, actually. It’s a repeated theme he’s been preaching to me ever since this wingman business started.

He shrugs. “Well, it still stands true.”

“What if we ran out of things to talk about?” I worry.

“He watches a lot of true crime mysteries, so talk about that.”

“Oh yeah, I will naturally include crime and murder into a light-hearted, second-date conversation just fine, thank you very much.” It’s difficult to miss the sarcasm in my tone.

“You’re going to figure it out. And you will be fine. Trust me.”

I hum a dismissive response, too fidgety to digest any assurance from my best friend.

Restlessly, I flip down the visor to reveal its mirror. It’s a little unfortunate how not-nice my hair looks without Ethan’s skills. My parents and Ethan went to see a movie today—a plan that originally included me—which was why I couldn’t ask my brother to style my hair. The most my abilities are capable to do is straighten it, but my hair is too stubborn to cooperate and decides that it will be frizzy today.

I turn to face Kai, asking for his opinion. “Do I look okay?”

He flickers his gaze from my hair down to my shoes, then meets me in the eyes. Suddenly I’m aware of the space between us and how dark his brown eyes are under those lashes and how the air seems to thicken and increase hotter by the minutes. It’s hard to tell if the stir in my stomach is from nerves before seeing Sehun or something else entirely.

I must be staring for a second too long because Kai shifts closer, causing my heart thud. “You okay?” He asks with a concerned look.

My throat feels so parched that I need to clear it a couple times. “Uh—yeah, fine. Did you say something?”

“I said you look presentable. If you’re lucky, you might even impress him a little bit.”

“Ha-ha, funny,” I quip, except my tone is so uncharacteristically me. Grabbing my purse and opening the door, I rush out in one breath, “I really appreciate the ride and can’t thank you enough, see you tomorrow!”

“Wait you should take the umbrella! Says it will rain later—”

“No need, gotta go!”

As soon as the door close, I bolt right out of the parking lot, having no explanation for what just happened.

•   •   •   •   •   •   •
 

Inside the sushi restaurant, the interior has a touch of modern architecture. The dim yellow lights illuminates the entire place. The chairs are plush with glossy marble tiles encasing the floor. The tall waiter sits me down in a table of two. On one side, the chefs are preparing the sushi rolls with the public’s eyes watching. They appear calm and confident, not slipping any mistakes as they thinly slice pieces of sashimi in a skillful speed.

The waiter’s dark hair is slicked back, not unlike the sophisticated aura of the restaurant. He holds a small notebook in one hand and a pen with an metallic case in the other. “What drinks can I get you started with today, ma’am?”

He doesn’t look any younger than I am, so the title feels far out of place for me. I reply with a polite smile, “Just water please.”

When he returns with two glasses of iced water, he inquires once again, “Are you ready to order?”

I make a swift glance at the entrance, anticipating for Sehun’s tall frame to walk in. “My friend will be here in a few minutes, do you think it would be okay to order then?”

The waiter’s patience doesn’t falter at my request. His pleasant smile remains pasted on a