by Megan Walker
If it’s that or nothing, though . . . “Yes! Casual. We can date other people.” I really don’t love this aspect, but this would make things between us seem less serious (no matter how serious I—and him too, right?—want to be). But the plan is forming in my mind as I speak. “That way, you don’t have to worry about the pressure of a relationship. It’s just fun. Baby steps. A warm up.”
His brow furrows. “Dating other people? I don’t know, Su-Lin, I don’t love talking to other people as a general rule, let alone trying to date them.”
“Look.” I squeeze his hand, the one he’s guiding me around the dance floor with. “We’ve got this convention in a couple days.” We’re premiering our new sock-puppet show at YouCon, a convention for YouTubers over the next week. Getting ready for that and Mei-Ling’s wedding days apart has been a whirlwind. “It’s the perfect place to meet new people, and I’ll be there to hold your hand through it—metaphorically speaking, mostly, but you know, if we’re dating too, then sometimes literally, I suppose. Though probably not when you’re on a date with some other girl—” I shake my head, trying to get back on track. “If you can get comfortable with casual dating, then maybe all the relationship stuff won’t seem so . . . scary.”
He hesitates, but he’s looking like he’s considering it. “Okay,” he says slowly. “But I don’t want to lead a bunch of girls on.”
“People aren’t looking for permanent relationships at a convention. A lot of people will be there from out of town anyway. It’s the most casual environment in the world. People are mostly just looking to hook up.”
Brendan goes pale, and I blurt the next bit out so fast I’m almost shouting. “Not that you need to hook up with anyone!” I really really really don’t want him to, though I know that if we’re not seriously dating, I don’t get a say. But I don’t hate that he seems terrified by that idea, at least. “We can just chill with other people at the dances and go to lunch and be . . . casual.”
Brendan blinks at me, and the expression on his face is almost as wide-eyed as when I first met him. His lips press together, then he squeezes my hand back. “This sounds crazy. You know that, right?” But he’s starting to smile again.
I smile back at him. “Yeah, but the best Su-Lin plans usually do. And I have a strong feeling about this.”
I bite my lip, worried he might just dismiss the idea entirely, that it might not be worth it to him, even if it could lead to us being together. The con was already going to be tough for him—lots of socializing and networking and meet and greets. Dating is probably the last thing he wants to add to the mix.
“Okay,” he says, and the smile stretches wider. He leans in so close our foreheads are almost touching. His eyes are so blue and his breath warm against my cheeks. “I’m in.”
The song has stopped, and my feet are killing me, but I don’t want to pull away, don’t want to let go. His eyes flick down to my lips, and I think he’s going to kiss me. I glance to the side just enough to see Mei-Ling beaming at us and my dad’s eyebrows drawing together in a concerned expression.
“Um,” I whisper. Brendan follows my gaze and winces.
I’m not ready for this moment to end, especially not in a panic attack. “Any chance you want to kiss me, but not in front of my whole family and a sizable portion of LA’s Chinese population?”
His attention snaps back to me, and he sounds breathless. “Yes. To both.”
“Follow me.” I waggle my eyebrows in what might look suggestive or might just look insane.
Right now, I don’t care. Because we’re both walking quickly, getting out of the ballroom and away from all those eyes, and we’re both laughing, and I think maybe he’s feeling as giddy and happy as I am.
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