Page 16 of Crease Collision

A minute passes with no answer. I’m about to walk it back when his response arrives, not one message but an avalanche.

KAI: Let’s give it a day or two.

KAI: I mean if you’re serious, and we both still want to meet up.

KAI: It’s very tempting. But maybe we should hang out first?

KAI: Then we can see what happens. We’ll talk, make sure we want to do it again.

KAI: Not that I wouldn’t like it. But maybe you won’t. We’ll talk about it, okay? And if we still want to, maybe we can.

KAI: Because I would like it. You know how much I liked it.

I need to stop him before he scares himself away. The closer Kai gets to something he wants, the more he tries to find a way out.

OSKAR: I will want to, but only if it is good for both of us. Do you want to hang out?

I can picture him reading it. The sigh of relief, followed by immediate suspicion of why he feels it.

KAI: That’s why I texted. Are you busy tomorrow?

Now the relief floods through me. I won’t look at that too closely.

OSKAR: Other than a meeting with my new employer on Friday, I am free all week. They put me in a hotel, and I have been bored since the day before yesterday.

KAI: Let’s fix that. Central Park tomorrow. We’ll have a picnic, then walk around so I can show you things. I grew up here.

OSKAR: I would like that. When?

KAI: Noon? Bring lunch. You know where Central Park is, right?

OSKAR: I ran there two days ago, so yes. Where in the park? It is huge.

KAI: 67th and Central Park West. Think you can find it?

I will, even if it takes all night and a compass.

OSKAR: My phone has an excellent app for this. Noon.

KAI: Cool. Text me if you get lost.

We send a few more messages, but the effort of arranging something he wants has worn him down, so I let him go to bed. Tossing my phone aside, I stretch out with my feet on the table and stare at the ceiling of a room that is not mine, in a country that is not mine, feeling very lucky.

A planned picnic counts as a date. I’m fairly sure that holds in any language. I cannot say what it is to Kai, but he asked, and asking nearly killed him.

If tomorrow goes well, maybe there will be more dates. I can tell he likes more than my body. I want to get to know him, and who can tell what might happen. Could it really be that easy?

I let myself fantasize because I deserve to. I’ve had flings and two temporary arrangements when we were honest about what they were. There were the months with Astrid, who never became what I had hoped. I have never experienced genuine commitment. Can a man be built entirely for hockey and still have room for a person on the other side of the plexiglass?

I promised Gunnar I’d find out. The weight of the promise is like the ache of a knee that has been hurt before. Not pain, but the memory of where it used to be.

I hear my father in my head. “Don’t sell the skin before the bear is shot.” An odd saying, but maybe I’d better remember it before I romanticize myself into acting like a fool.

I leave for the date too early, telling myself it is because I need to buy food and find the correct park entrance, but this is only part of it. Mostly, I could not stand waiting in the hotel any longer.

I check the app on my phone as I’m leaving, again half a block later, and once more at a corner where it tries to send me through a fountain. The route looks easy on the screen, but on the street, it is more complicated. There are barriers, men shouting over boxes, and a cyclist who swears at me with real artistry when I pause in his lane for a quick second.

“Sorry,” I call after him.