When we leave, Anouk walks me to the train. We continue talking but I’m already thinking about the goodbye. Will we kiss? Too soon. Hug? Too friendly. We arrive at the subway’s entrance, and I am standing in front of her. “It was nice hanging out with you,” I say. “We should hang out again.” The words echo through my mind. Hang out, hang out, hang out.

“Yeah,” she says. “We should.”

No kiss, no hug, and I feel good as I descend underground.

The next morning she texts me: I woke up today feeling less sad than usual.

•

For our second date I suggest a Mexican restaurant in Crown Heights, one that I noticed while staying at a friend’s place in the neighborhood. I arrive early and wait for Anouk on a bench outside.

“Hey,” she says, stepping out from inside the restaurant. She is wearing a denim skirt and a loosely fitting pink-and-white striped top. “I just put our names on the wait list.”

She sits down beside me, her side flush against mine, and I feel a surge of attraction run through me, the first time I’ve felt it with her. She scoots away a little, which makes me wonder if she felt it too. I ask about her day. I’m too close to face her, so I look straight ahead. She tells me she’s coming from her building’s co-op meeting. “So you own,” I ask.

“Yeah,” she answers quickly. “Well, my parents do. It’s kind of a double-edged sword.”

“How so?”

“I guess it ties me here. Or at least it feels that way.” She seems uncomfortable. “I know. It’s a bratty thing to complain about.”

Before I can respond, the hostess steps outside and calls her name, a relief, because I’m not sure how to calibrate the depth of our conversation for the bench outside. “Should we sit at a table or the bar?” Anouk asks me. Since it’s our first dinner date, a table seems right. We order margaritas, and when our drinks arrive I remember that I am still a little hungover after a night of doing shots with coworkers. I would’ve slept it off, but I had to move out of my friend’s apartment in Sunset Park by noon, and spent the morning transferring between trains and buses to Bed-Stuy. I choose not to mention any of this to Anouk. I don’t want her to know about my transient life. Usually, people arrive in a new city and get settled first. They sort out their jobs, find an apartment, and then start dating. For me, the latter took precedence. A relationship was the whole point.