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Mendel pulls Trina’s chair out for her, making a big show out of gesturing to it with his arms. Trina giggles and sits down with a soft “thank you”. Mendel pushes her seat in, then scurries around to the other side of the table to take his own place.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he tells her as he scoots forward. “Did I mention that yet?”
Trina smiles. “You might have.”
“Well, it’s still true.” At that, Trina laughs again; it’s a sweet noise that adds a year to Mendel’s life each time he hears it. She throws her head back, her eyes closed tight, and her mouth is open, showing off straight rows of perfect white teeth framed by red lipstick. Mendel thinks she’s beautiful.
“Thank you.” Trina says at last, her hands coming to rest on top of the table. Her fingernails are painted with white tips--a french manicure, Mendel thinks it’s called?
“Did you get the flowers I sent?” He asks.
Trina nods. “They’re lovely.”
“Oh, good!” Mendel says. “I-I’m taking a class on flower arrangement; I tried to put it to use.” Trina nods, lifting her wine glass of water and taking a sip. Mendel does the same, because mirroring the action seems right.
The conversation flows easily. Trina asks Mendel about school, and he tells her about the classes he’s taking and how he thinks he’s going to focus on psychology, because he took two classes in it and really loved them. He asks Trina the same question, and she says she thinks she’s going to stick with English. It suits her, he thinks.
They talk about their friends (mostly good things, because they love them); they talk about how college is hardening Whizzer a little bit, how they’d both like to see him find a boyfriend. They talk about how Charlotte’s working too hard, how she needs to take a break for once and learn that the world won’t end if she gets a B. They talk about how Cordelia’s food looks like it’s improving, how they’re scared to find out if actually is over winter break.
Trina says she’s excited to go back home for the winter. She likes school, she assures him, but she misses the way things were. She misses high school, and her room, and being able to see all her friends whenever she wants. She wants to braid Cordelia’s hair, and have girls’ night with Whizzer and the lesbians. Mendel can’t blame her; he misses those things too.
He confesses his fear that nothing will be the same as it was when they finally get back. Trina tells him that of course things won’t be the same, but that there’s nothing to fear. There’s no judgment in her words. Mendel wonders how much she’s thought about this, if it’s even half as much as he’s thought about it.
“We’ll have each other, at least.” She tells him, reaching her hand out over the table. Mendel places his over hers. His heart does a somersault in his chest.
Mendel takes Trina out for ice cream afterward. He gets vanilla soft serve in a cone; she gets a cone of mint chocolate chip. The woman behind the counter mistakes him for her boyfriend, and Mendel gets flustered, but Trina takes it in stride, slipping her hand into Mendel’s and pressing a kiss to his cheek. He imagines his face is as red as the jar of cherries on the counter.
“Come on, honey,” Trina teases as Mendel drops his change into the tip jar. “Walk me home.” They leave the ice cream shop holding hands, Trina leaning against Mendel’s shoulder.
“This is me.” Trina says, pulling away from Mendel slightly, as they slow to a stop in front of her residence hall.
“I’m glad Lily caught that stomach bug.” Mendel blurts it out before he can think twice. It doesn’t land the way he wants it to.
“Um, what?” Trina asks, laughing a little.
“I mean--” He stammers slightly. “I’m glad we got to spend some time alone together.”
“Oh!” Trina says with the smallest smile. “So am I. Tonight was great, Mendel. Thank you.”
Mendel loses his mind for a moment.
He swoops forward and grabs Trina by the shoulders, pressing their lips together. It is frantic and wet and not at all what he imagined his first kiss being; he feels Trina tense at his touch. She pushes back.
“Mendel.” She sighs. She doesn't sound angry, just disappointed. Somehow that's worse.
“I-” Mendel freezes.
“I like you, really,” Trina goes on, and he can tell she’s trying to be gentle. “But I have Marvin.”
“Right.” Mendel nods, laughing nervously. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” That’s a lie. Mendel was thinking that for once he might be able to get what he wants, that for once he might not have to play second fiddle to Marvin, might not have to settle for being second best.
His voice drops so that it’s barely a whisper. “I’m sorry.” Trina smiles, but there’s a sadness to it that makes Mendel’s heartache.
“It’s okay.” She promises, folding her hands together in front of her middle. “We can just forget about it, go on like nothing happened.”
“Yeah,” Mendel mumbles. “Just forget about it.” He refuses to meet Trina’s eyes. He just feels so dumb. He hates that he thought he could measure up to Marvin. He hates that he took a risk. And most of all, he hates that he made Trina uncomfortable; that was the absolute last thing he would ever want.
Mendel adores Trina. He thinks she’s the sun and the moon and the stars all captured in one magnificent woman. He doesn’t know how Trina feels about him; she’s never near him close enough to tell if he’s delightful or not.
“Goodnight, Mendel.” She says with a nod. She turns and climbs the steps to the door of her building. She scans her id card and opens it.
“Hey, Trina?” Mendel calls. She turns in the doorway. “Happy birthday.” She nods again, giving another melancholy smile before disappearing into her dorm.
Mendel stands outside in the cold for a moment, kicking himself for being so stupid and selfish. Then, he turns and walks the rest of the way back to Hampshire. When he gets into his room an hour later, he doesn’t bother with pajamas or brushing his teeth. He just falls into his bed and cries himself to sleep.