The young man sat alone in the large bustling plaza, reading away on his phone by the fountain. Every day, he would walk downtown, take a seat next to the fountain, and read. He had done so for months. In truth, the habit had started as a naive attempt at finding someone to talk to. “The odds of finding someone are zero if I’m in my home all day.” He had thought. His hopes of finding someone just by sitting out in public had died a month ago. Now he simply enjoyed the walk, the sun, and the change of scenery.

“Excuse me?” A voice said, startling him. A woman stood tall beside him, her head tilted as she tried to glance at his phone. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” She was a cute girl, tall with tanned skin and long black hair. Her smile was almost infectious with a single tooth jutting out slightly further than the rest, biting her lip as she grinned. She had what some would consider a baby face with rounded cheeks, he thought it suited her well. Her eyes were a light brown, almost orange.

“No, no it’s okay. I’ll move so you can have this spot. It’s a nice spot.” He pushed himself up with one hand, slipping his phone into his sweater pocket with the other. The man was a half foot shorter than her, with hair dyed black, his blond roots threatening to retake over. His hair wrapped around the left side of his neck in a ponytail, the last time he had it fully cut being over a decade ago. His eyes were a dim lavender hiding a plain brown behind them, his favourite colour of contacts. In truth, he considered himself to be increasingly plain, so he often took measures to change how he looked in what ways he could.

“No please, sit.“ she said, bending slightly to look at his eyes. He averted his gaze to the other side. “Purple? Son of a…” She sighed through a closed mouth.

“Purple…?” He asked

“Your eyes, I bet they’d be red or abnormally blue, but my coworker guessed purple. So, now I’m out $20.” She stood straight again, shaking her head slightly. “Anyway, I’ll—“

“You bet on my eye colour? Why?” He stood up and pretended to stretch his legs, before actually stretching his legs.

“Well, and I don’t mean any offence, you do your makeup better than my friend does, and you dye and take proper care of your very long hair, we just assumed you wore coloured contacts too. Anyway, I gotta get back to work. And pay my friend. See you around.” She began to walk away.

“Wait, do you read many books?” He asked as he took two steps toward her.

“No, I’ve never been a reader, why?” She glanced around, seemingly impatient.

“Well… Would you like to go to this book club with me tomorrow night?” He knew it was a stupid question even before he said the words aloud.

“Hah, can’t say the idea interests me much, but…” She pivoted and walked to the specialty cake shop where another woman was waiting. He exhaled a deep and defeated breath. ‘Way to look like an idiot.’ He thought to remove his contacts right there, and throw them into the fountain. Instead, he merely sat down again. An hour passed without once looking at his phone, just staring at the water shooting into the air. He took a deep breath, stood up, and walked to the cake shop. Inside, the woman was manning the register as she finished up with a customer. Once the customer was gone, he walked up to her and slapped his hand down on the counter. Beneath it was a $50 bill.

“If I pay you, will you please pretend to be my friend, just this week?” Pathetic, pitiful, worthless. Loathing took over his thoughts. Not even he could believe he said such a thing. She heard, her coworker behind her heard, the customer leaving probably heard. ‘Today is the last day I will ever come to this plaza.’ Silence filled the air as his face reddened. It must have been at least 30 degrees all around him.

“Sure, a fifty now and then again next Friday sound fair?” She placed her hand on the bill, her fingers grazing his. He looked up, shock visible all over his face. Her coworker had a hand covering her face as she suppressed laughter.

“I- Really? You don’t… never mind, yeah that sounds fair. But why next Friday? It’s Thursday today.” His voice rose with excitement, shaming him further.

“You want someone to go to that book club with you, yeah? And they hold it every Friday, so I’ll give you an extra day, to make two of the meetings. You’re gonna have to tell me all about the book, though, cause I’m not gonna read it.” She smiled at him again, like she had the first moment she spoke to him. “I’m Chella, by the by. And the jerk behind me is Kiara. What about you?” She motioned to her friend who was now failing to stifle audible laughter, slinking off to the kitchen.

“I’m Daemon, can I pick you up at 1 tomorrow?” He asked, still shook.

“Mhm. Kiara can take over for an hour or two ‘til we’re done. See you then, Daemon.” His name on her lips took him by surprise. ‘She’s just doing it for the cash…’ ‘She won’t even talk to you in between the meetings.’ ‘But why go through the effort just for $100?’ He headed home for the day.

That night, he failed to commit to any reading or sleep. His mind was abuzz, full of bees trapped in a maze. He switched back and forth as he tried to convince his doubts and self-loathing that maybe someone wanted to be his friend, or maybe more. But in the end, his doubts won. He went over every scenario, each one worse than the last. After hours of overthinking and self-pity, he fell asleep.

He awoke with tears staining his eyes and pillow. It was that dream again, the one that stuck with him ever since he was a young teen. Whether it was a friend, family member, or an acquaintance he had spoken to once, they would always shout and scream at him. He would be doing a simple task for them, or just minding his own business, and they would berate, put down, and anger him to the point of tears. This time, it was his mother. The dreams had stuck with him in the waking world, becoming deeply associated with those that appeared in them, much to his displeasure.

Daemon forced himself out of bed, preparing for the day. Showered, hair tied down his back, with nails and face touched up, he moved to his closet. He slipped into a black dress shirt and dark blue jeans. He thought too late that he might be overdressed for a simple book club meeting. The walk to the plaza was nerve-racking. ‘It’s going to be a cruel joke.’ ‘She won’t show up.’ ‘Why would she lie, she works at the store and would see you every day. Don’t be stupid.’ Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the fountain. ‘Do I wait here?’ ‘If I go into the store, will they laugh at me?’ ‘If I wait here—‘

“Hey! Ready to head over?” He turned to see Chella clad in a dark blue jean jacket over white top with a long black skirt. Her hair was tied up in a bun, and her eyes had wings of eyeliner. Despite her rather casual attire, Daemon suddenly felt underdressed.

“Yeah, I’m ready if you are.” The two walked side by side to the book store. ‘Say something, you idiot.’ ‘She’s already bored and we aren’t even there yet.’ Breaking his train of doubt, Chella spoke up and asked about the book they would be reading. Daemon described the book to her, switching between several tangents about other books he liked in the same genre. After ten minutes of rambling, they arrived.

“Hello! Are you two here for the book club meeting? First time or have you been before?” A lady at the front desk asked. She led them to the corner near the back of the store, where couches, armchairs, cushions, and ottomans sat in a rectangular formation near a window. In the centre, several of the same book laid upon a table. The book was titled ‘A Love Most Foul’. A romance with promises of murder mystery thrown in. The two took a seat next to each other on a small couch up against the window. As more people joined, drinks were passed around. Coffee, water, iced tea, and various juices, with lunch soon to come. Relatively quiet at first, the group picked up quickly, talking amongst each other about the book, favourite authors, and discourse about TV and movie adaptations. By the time it was over, two hours had passed.

“That was—“

“Boring, I know. I’m really sorry I brought you to that after you expressly told me you had little interest. You don’t have to go next week.” They walked away from the store, back to the fountain.

“No, not at all! It was fun, even the quieter nerds were smiling, talking, and laughing.” She nudged his arm with her elbow, chuckling. ‘She’s just pretending for the money.’ He reminded himself, careful to not get too hopeful. “But I gotta know, why not just go yourself? You clearly fit in, why pay a stranger?”

“I… I was just nervous to go alone, is all.” He knew it was sad, and only a half-truth. But it was better than an outright lie.

“Mm. I get it.”

“I guess I’ll pick you up at the same time next week then?” A tinge of disappointment crept into his voice.

“What? You think I would put any effort into my appearance for a book club full of you dweebs just to go back to slave over cakes? No no. Let’s go for a walk, and then grab dinner. I know a great place, expensive too.” She pulled him by the arm. He had no idea what to say.

The restaurant was packed, with chandeliers tinting the room a dim orange. Servers brought bottles of expensive alcohol and silver platters of fine dining to tables all around them.

“I think I’ll have…” Chella ordered the lasagna with a salad for a side, recommending Daemon try the baked halibut. She ordered a small bottle of wine for the two to share, and a cheesecake for dessert after the meal. While they waited for the food to arrive, Daemon’s mind raced with nothing of importance. ‘Say something, say something, say something.’ He repeated, unable to find a conversation worth bringing up.

“This place is… so expensive.” He said.

“Well you are paying for it, after all, and you wouldn’t stoop to anything less, yeah?.” She said, laughing as she finished speaking

“I- Wait, I am?” He shuffled in his seat. He didn’t want to let on just how broke he was.

Chella slid a $50 bill onto the table. “Yep, and you can use the other fifty for the rest, and a nice tip to boot.” She smiled her toothy smile.

“But that was for—“

“My ‘friendship’? Please, that was just your excuse to ask. And besides, the day I bring Kiara to a place this fancy is the day I eat my pet turtle.” She said, accompanied by a chortle.

“So that would mean this is…” He trailed off.

“A first date. And don’t stress yourself, it’s been amazing so far. You’ve shared your deepest interest with me, brought me somewhere fun, and now you’re paying for an expensive dinner. All without knowing it’s been a date!” He straightened his back and stared at her, shocked. ‘How-‘ ‘Why-‘ ‘What do I…’ She placed her hand on his. “Don’t worry, I like the quiet. Everyone around me never shuts up. Me included. So relax a little. I could share with you a dozen first date stories, all infinitely worse than this.”

Their food finally arrived. In between bites, Daemon regaled her with various stories he had read over the years, and she in kind told him all about her friends, terrible dates, and various pets. After dessert, they went for a walk before heading to Chella’s apartment building.

“I’ll see you at the fountain tomorrow? Feel free to give me some company at the store, once you’ve read your fill for the day.” She said, holding his hand in hers.

“Yeah, for sure… So does this mean you’ll stick around for more than just this week? Or—“ She laughed through her nose before bringing him in for a kiss.

“You think too much.” She said, lowering his hand. “See you tomorrow!”

He stood outside the building for a few minutes, stunned. ‘Maybe I deserve this feeling, just this once.’