“V is for Vronsky” was what he wrote for his first name in her contacts, and he put “Count” under the heading of title. Ten minutes later, Steven and Lolly had found Kimmie twirling around in the spacious bathroom with her arms outstretched singing “V is for Vronsky, V is for Vronsky, V is for Vronsky!” Over and over she twirled, oblivious to Steven and her sister standing there in the doorway, watching her. The last thing she remembered from the night was hearing her older sister yell at her boyfriend. “OMFG, Steven! Kimmie’s still all fucked up! Kimmie! Snap out of it!”

“Kimmie?” Dustin said, his voice snapping her back to reality.

“Yes?” she answered, feeling guilty for thinking about another guy when she was with a perfectly nice one now.

“I’m going to the restroom,” he said.

Kimmie smiled and nodded, but as soon as Dustin left the table she pulled her phone out to check for texts. She had one new one, which filled her with hope, but she frowned when she saw it was from her friend Victoria. Kimmie ignored her friend’s text and instead composed one of her own, hitting “V is for Vronsky,” which was saved in her favorites. She typed: Missed you at the rink tonight. Hope you had a good day. *pair of ice skates emoji* *snowman emoji* She hesitated for a moment, debating whether the ice skates emoji would be seen as redundant or as cute like she intended. She deleted the pair of ice skates, left the snowman, and hit send.

Bubbles appeared immediately and her pulse quickened in anticipation, but they soon disappeared and left her feeling annoyed and stupid. She wished she hadn’t sent any emoji at all now. She put her phone back in her mini Prada backpack and looked up to see that Dustin hadn’t even made it to the restroom yet. He was talking to four teenage boys she didn’t recognize and the whole table erupted in laughter from something Dustin said.

So weird, Kimmie thought to herself. Who knew nerds could be so funny?

XI

Dustin didn’t even have to go to the bathroom, but he needed a break from Kimmie’s dazzling beauty. He had to admit the evening was going far better than he’d imagined possible, and he hoped to finish strong, which was exactly why he was in the men’s room doing some of the breathing exercises his therapist recommended he try whenever he felt anxious enough to bring on one of his panic attacks.