“I think it looks—” I’m about to say “cute” but I swallow it back. “Cute” is too flirty, but what should I say instead? I need to come up with something fast because Milo is starting to look at me funny. What about “nice”? Or “good”? I only have to pick one of them, but my brain mushes the two words together, and it comes out, “—nood.”

Which sounds a little like nude.

Oh, God. Did I tell Milo that he looks naked?

“Good! Your hair looks good!” I say, trying to recover. Ugh, I should’ve said that it was cute and been done with it. I better change the subject fast, so I reach into my bag and fish out his card. “For the birthday boy. There’s a gift certificate inside to Bob’s Noodle.”

“Really?” He grins extra wide, and my stomach twists because the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles like that. “Thanks, J. You’ll go with me, right? My birthday isn’t my birthday without you and Bob.”

His request makes me feel all gooey inside, but I try to play it cool. “I don’t know. You always try to steal my fried pork chop.”

“That’s because you never finish it! You shouldn’t waste food like that. Think about the environment.”

I give him a little push, and he laughs and pokes me in the side; and maybe I felt gooey before, but I’m now melting into a puddle. A thought tickles at the back of my mind that I should ask him to the dance right now. He’s in such a good mood—and maybe he was flirting with me a little?—but my palms start sweating and I feel light-headed, and then my flicker of bravery fizzles out, like it has done countless times before.

It’s okay, though, I tell myself. I’ll ask him after the concert. That was the plan anyway, which is still a definite go.

The string quartet enters the atrium and gets seated by the expanse of front windows where they’ll be playing. The concert is casual, standing room only, and Milo claims a spot near the musicians. I make sure to position myself a little in front of him so he can notice my outfit. I went through four options before I settled on a cream blouse with a Peter Pan collar and a pair of navy shorts with a scalloped hem. Thea said that I look like an anime sailor, which is kind of true, but I wanted to dress up fancier than usual. This might not be a date, but it’s shaped like one, so I want to look the part.

Finally, I feel Milo’s gaze land on me, and I’m grateful that the air-conditioning is turned on full blast because otherwise I’d be a sweaty mess.