I walk away, confusion thrumming through me. I need to calm down and think. Why did he ask me yesterday and not today? Or any other day, for that matter? Yesterday was the first time he invited me. My steps slow. He only invited me when I told him—“I got fired!” I blurt out, spinning around, ready to march back and tell him.

But he’s already gone.

“Hey Jane, you okay?”

“No. I got fired.” The words are quick and high pitched and loud. An embarrassing gunshot of words. Gah, I annoy myself sometimes.

His mouth pops open in shock. “Um. You. What?”

I guess I’m not usually so forthright. Or shrill.

My face heats. My nerves spin around in my stomach like I’m stuck on a wonky carousel from hell. The tunnel is collapsing.

Dammit.

I open my mouth. Close it. Open it again. Close it. Ugh. Spinning on a heel, I flee.

“Hey Jane, you okay?”

Play it cool, Jane. I’ve been practicing. It’s a script now. I can do this.

“I’m,” I clear my throat, “not great. The pitch didn’t, um, it didn’t go good.”

I could never be an actor. I can barely speak. I’m like the animated version of the children’s books written with my namesake. See Jane run. See Jane fail. See Jane pull her tongue out and stomp on it for all the good it’s doing her.

“What happened?”

“I got fired.”

“Oh, Jane. Hey,” he dips his head to meet my eyes, “that really sucks.”

“Yeah.” I sigh and look into the distance, giving it my best thousand-yard stare. Be forlorn. So sad. So, so sad you should invite me out. Don’t I look like I need a night out?

“Hey listen, I’m in a band. We have a gig tonight. I mean, it’s not a big thing, we’re the opening act and it’s at the Saloon, but you should come. I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Yes. Oh, um. I mean, yeah, cool. Maybe. Maybe I’ll see you there.” I back up slowly.

Walk away before you screw this up somehow.

I spin around to stalk off.

“Eight o’clock!” he calls after me.

And I’m very glad I turned around before he could catch the full-on grin stretching my face. I did it! I wave a hand behind me in acknowledgment and keep walking.

Time to prepare.

I spend the rest of the day coming up with a list of things to talk about. I don’t know why I haven’t done this before. Lists are my jam, my go-to strategy almost every time I have to talk to people, or in front of a group. I use them for everything. Make a list, memorize it, repeat it over and over so I can hopefully speak through my nerves without stuttering too much, or sounding like a complete dolt.