“He’s the John Mayer of our generation,” I argued.

Kael snorted. “John Mayer is the John Mayer of our generation.”

A few minutes later, he was quiet, and I was happy as we listened to music and drove down a long, curvy road that I had never been on before. I would always remember the way the sun and moon danced in the sky that night and what a sense of calm his silence had started to bring over my body.

I listened to his voice when he asked me random questions that he had clearly put some thought into:

“How many siblings do you wish you had?”

“Which is your favorite character on Friends?”

“How many times have you watched The Lion King?”

“If you could have dinner with five people, dead or alive, who would they be and why?”

I was starting to get too comfortable with him, there in the front seat of his Bronco. And yet I could almost feel the chaos brewing somewhere nearby. Everything was going too well. I was totally lost in his world now, impressed and moved by every thought he had. I loved the way his tongue wrapped words up to sound pleasurable and profound. The depth of his thoughts and the way he spoke were incredibly attractive; his mind at work was so appealing to me. I thought I knew what connection was like, but watching it play out on a TV screen was nothing compared to real life. There’s a joy here, a level of peace with Kael that I had not known in my twenty years on this earth. Being with Kael was like meditating; it was so good for my mind and my soul felt better when he was around. He was lighthearted and heavy, both at home and away. Biting whiskey and smooth wine. I loved the way he contradicted everything about himself—his purposeful silence, his wise youthfulness, his unexpected softness. He was a fascinating man, and I couldn’t wait to learn more about him.

We made it through an entire playlist and began to make a second one together. I quietly sang along to a Halsey song. We got to the restaurant early and sat in the car, talking through the next few songs. The place was a cool little Chinese restaurant with nicely decorated patio seating, hanging lanterns, and lush green plants covering the space. We were only fifteen minutes from my house, but I had never noticed this place or the cute fragrance store next door.

“This street is so charming—” I saw my brother’s name pop up on my screen. I thought about ignoring his call, but decided against it.

“It’s Austin, sorry.” I turned Kael’s radio down and picked up the call. Music boomed through his side of the line and his slurred words were tumbling through, becoming inaudible.