The Unbearable Infernal Silent Wait

People think love stories begin with a kiss. Ours began with waiting. Not a long wait, at first. Just a few minutes outside a house I barely knew, on a Saturday evening when the sky could not decide between rain and fair weather. I sat in my car with the engine off, clutching my phone as though it might give me one good reason to turn around. My friend’s last message still glowed on the screen: “Come in. Everyone’s outside.” Everyone. Two words that could summon a crowd of ridiculous scenarios in my mind. Everyone would look at me. Everyone would notice that I had no idea what to do with my arms. Everyone would know, within three seconds, that I had almost changed my shirt four times before coming. I took a deep breath. Then I breathed onto the window, hard enough to make a little cloud. In it, I drew two pointed ears and a crooked smile with one fingertip. A clumsy fox. That was how I gave myself courage: make a joke no one could see, then pretend it was enough. When I finally opened the door, cool air struck my face. Voices drifted from the backyard, mingling with the crackle of a fire. Someone laughed too loudly. A song played through a small speaker, skipping now and then