Chapter 46: A Little Bit More

Thursday, November 21, 1985

As planned, I met Amy at her dorm room just after six-thirty. I’d worn a somewhat more colorful outfit this time: forest green shirt, gray pants. Amy surprised me a bit. Oh, there weren’t any major changes, but her studded collar and wrist cuffs were purple, not black, her black t-shirt was short enough to show a thin portion of her midriff, and her skirt was a few inches above the knee. Her shoes were different, too. I was pretty sure they were Doc Martens, which were — as yet — not that common in the US. Or, at least, not in my part of the US. Black, even chunkier than her previous shoes, and with a decent-sized heel as well. She had purple eyeshadow and lip gloss, too. Not overdone, but clearly there.

Her earrings were the same silver ankhs, though.

Unlike last time, she met me with a somewhat awkward but clearly heartfelt hug. Looking up into my eyes, she said, “Hello, Steve. It is good to see you.”

“It is good to see you, too, Amy,” I said, then kissed her.

She kissed me right back, and looked somewhere between thrilled and disappointed when our lips parted. I offered my hand, she took it, and I led her off to my car.

Halfway down the stairs, she said, “I am still ... unsure ... of how this all works.”

“Oh?” I said.

“Tiffany was most clear that third dates had expectations and consequences. She made it something of a dating rule.”

It took me a few seconds to realize that she was, very subtly, teasing me. It was deftly done, and I gave her a mental round of applause.

“Well, we wouldn’t want you to be a rule-breaker, would we?” I said, trying to make sure my return tease was more transparent.

Surprising me, she blushed and nodded.

“I ... do try to understand the rules,” she said.

That was an interesting thing, and might give me a good conversation topic. I had another one ready, though.

Before switching subjects, I said, “I suppose we’ll have to see how those rules work in practice.”

“Indeed,” she said, giving my hand a squeeze.

This seemed to be a different Amy. I wasn’t so sure, though. Maybe this was what a relaxed Amy looked like. She probably spent a fair part of our first date nervous about embarrassing herself or about my embarrassing her in one way or another. Our second date was weighed down with a seriously emotional story on her part along with the left-over emotions of my being hospitalized as well. This one had no expectations (unless she was expecting ‘more’, anyway) and was more relaxed.

I moved on to something I’d meant to say during our last date, but had missed because of how things went.

“I like your earrings. They suit you,” I said.

She looked up at me.

“Thank you,” she said, looking curious. “You know the ankh?”

“Egyptian hieroglyphic for ‘life,’ more or less.”

“That ... is why I wear them,” she said, nodding. “I...”

She paused, taking her time. It coincided with reaching the car, so I helped her in, then got in myself.

She looked at me as I got in, clearly thinking something. I wasn’t sure if it had to do with the ankh, but I guessed it was more about the car. Helping her in? Was that chauvinist? Did Amy care if it was? She hadn’t said anything like that, but I still had only scratched the surface of who she was.

Once I’d started the engine and started us on our way, she said, “A few years after...”

She didn’t finish the sentence, but instead just picked up with, “I was reading a book about ancient Egypt and it mentioned the ankh. Unsurprising, since it was very important to them. The more I read, the more it also meant to me. I found a pair, then another, and more, and they have become a staple in my wardrobe.”

“I missed them the first few times,” I said, glancing over at her occasionally. Traffic was light, so I could make occasional eye contact without being unsafe.

“Some of them are very tiny. They are also important in goth culture, but that is not why I wear them.”

I nodded and said, “When I was speaking before, I should have just said ‘and more’ instead of ‘more or less.’”

She blushed slightly. A reaction to the other ‘more?’

I continued, saying, “It’s not just the sign for life. I’m sure you know that, but I wanted to make it clear I do, too. The ankh ties into life itself, into wishing one a long life, and into beliefs about extended life, rebirth, and the afterlife. Probably other things, but those are the highlights I know of.”

She nodded quickly and emphatically.

“Yes! That ... is what I mean. It started with wishing Cindy a happy afterlife, but ... now it is ... more general. People...”

She stared out the window for a second, then said, still looking out, “People sometimes think I do not like ... not them personally, but people in general. I do. I like most people well enough, and wish them well. Sometimes, it is wishing them well but away from me. Tiffany, for instance. She is not a bad person. Irritating, shallow, frivolous, but not bad. I hope she does well, but I do not wish to be around her.”

I nodded.

“That’s interesting. Many people don’t separate the two very well.”

She gave a little shrug.

“I do not always see the world the way other people do. That ... is just how it is.”

I nodded at that, and said, “That does seem obvious.”

“You would think so!” she said, smiling. “But many people are not good at imagining how others might see the world.”

“All too true,” I said.

She shifted a little, then said, “Jasmine is a very interesting person.”

“She is,” I said.

“We are different, but also alike.”

“Oh?”

She nodded, and said, “We talked about jealousy. I understand ... fear of loss, perhaps. Trust, and the loss of it, as well. That is, after all, how we started into ... dating.”

“Indeed.”

“I have little experience with it, but I do not understand jealousy. It seems ... nonsensical.”

“Many things people do are somewhat nonsensical, when you get down to it.”

“True,” she said, snorting slightly. “Very true. Still ... we agree. It is nonsensical. Some nonsensical things are fine. There is not any particular sense in my hair being purple. I like it, so it is. But jealousy feels like a harmful thing.”

“Some people think it glues together relationships and protects relationships from being threatened.”

“So does being honest and trustworthy,” she said.

“You do have a point. And I’m not a fan of jealousy myself. Just ... playing devil’s advocate.”

“An enjoyable thing to do, to be sure,” she said. Then she shifted and said, “I talked to her because I wanted to understand why you weren’t cheating. And why you aren’t, now.”

“We’re just going to dinner. I can do that without cheating, even in a normal relationship.”

“Not and kiss me,” she said, again with a hint of teasing.

“True enough.”

I pulled up to Swenson’s. She gave it a curious look.

“This is an interesting choice.”

“I had a guess you hadn’t been here, and ... since we are dating, and this is a somewhat traditional ‘date spot’...”

She nodded.

“I should see it. That makes sense.”

Thursday was a fairly safe night for us at Swenson’s. It was somewhat busy, but not nearly as crowded as it would be on a Friday or Saturday. The hostess showed us to a corner booth, where we settled in. Amy looked over the menu. I did, too, though I knew what I was going to order.

“I think ... this burger,” she said, pointing to a burger with swiss cheese and bacon.

“A good choice,” I said. “I’m going with the chicken tenders this time.”

She nodded.

The waitress took our order right away, which I appreciated. Fewer interruptions were good.

“Jasmine helped. It is ... I needed to understand how things work.”

“You mentioned that before,” I said, seeing a good segue. “Understanding the rules and so forth.”

She blushed a bit, toying with her napkin and looking a trifle nervous. Or, perhaps, bashful.

“I ... it is...” she said, then stopped.

I just waited her out. Eventually, she said, “It seems to me like most people either learn the rules subconsciously or just guess at them and do well. I ... seem to fail most of the time. Things do not make sense. Jealousy is one. If one does not feel jealousy, so many other things make little sense. Learning what the rules are helps.”

“Except, for instance, when someone gives you a poor rule,” I said.

“Such as?”

“Third dates requiring ‘more,’” I said, with a tiny bit of teasing in my voice.

She snorted a little.

“Maybe Tiffany was right and you are the one who is wrong.”

“Perhaps,” I said, chuckling. “I...”

She cut me off — unexpected, and interesting — and said, “You asked me to think about what I think about dating, and ... whether it bothers me if... ‘more’ ... is a possibility.”

“I did,” I said.

“That is why I called Jasmine,” she said. “Because it does not bother me at all. The idea of actually connecting with someone is not something that has ever seemed like a possibility on previous dates. People would say, ‘Oh, you should date so-and-so,’ and I would, but we did not understand each other. Or they would ask, and I would say yes, but they expected me to understand things I did not. Sometimes, I found I was there to make some other girl jealous. Or...”

She stopped, shook her head, and said, “Since we are connecting ... no, it does not bother me. It intrigues me.”

“Being honest, it intrigues me as well.”

She didn’t blush at that, which I’d guessed might happen.

“You have Jasmine, though. And I know you are also dating Darla.”

“To me, that’s much like saying, ‘But you have a friend. Two friends! Why would you need more?’”

She fidgeted a bit, then nodded.

“I think I feel the same way. But ... I do not know. It is ... theoretical. I have not had someone to be jealous of. Perhaps I will turn out to be quite jealous after all.”

“Trust your instincts?”

She snorted.

“My instincts are often wrong. That is why I need to learn the rules.”

“Fair enough,” I said.

The waitress brought our orders, and conversation was often interrupted by enjoying our meals.

I suspected it gave Amy time to think things through, because, once she’d reached a good stopping point, she said, “Perhaps we have already covered this, but I will still ask. Why me?”

“As I said, you’re intriguing.”

“That’s enough?”

“For me? Mostly,” I said.

“Mostly?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“As I said to someone else recently, if someone wants to date a girl simply because she is a girl, that’s a very shallow thing and a warning sign. On the other hand, for me at least, that you are a girl matters, because I only date girls...”

She snorted at that.

“But it isn’t sufficient. That means ‘intriguing’ isn’t sufficient, either, since you also have to be a girl. And willing to say yes to a date. And so on, and so forth.”

She nodded.

“But ... when I first met you, in the dorm, with Claire, you were ‘intriguing’ then, too. Not enough to ask you out, though. Not just because I was seeing Claire, but because I barely knew you. I wouldn’t say that what happened caused me to ask you out, but it probably both sped up and slowed things down.”

“Slowed down I understand. Sped things up?” she asked.

“It gave us a discussion topic. A big one, or a constellation of them. Why I wasn’t cheating. Who these other girls were, and who they are to me. How things work with Jasmine. Why Claire was fine with all of this. I was already intrigued enough to have been hoping we might become friends, but asking you out was ... um.”

“Yes?”

“Well ... obviously partly about having that conversation in private, but I wouldn’t have phrased it as a date unless it was a date. That would have been unfair to you,” I said.

She nodded.

“Whereas I thought maybe it was ... well. Not a date date. But I was wrong.”

“Your feelings matter as much as mine. If you hadn’t been willing to consider an actual date as a possibility...”

“True,” she said, nodding again. “You probably have Claire to thank for that. She was one of the first here to be nice to me. Once she came to your defense, it struck me that she was probably just being a good judge of character. Someone with character who wanted to go on an actual date was ... new. We might not have connected at all, but I was curious.”

“Speaking of being curious, it occurs to me ... you’re good at learning the rules, and I know you can be ... well, the person you are at work, or in some of the hall conversations. Did you try that...?”