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Dylan shifted in front of the mirror, hands smoothing out wrinkles in his shirt that didn’t exist. He shifted, turning side to side, putting on and pulling off his faux-leather jacket, checking the clock only to see that only a minute has passed. His twin sister, Stevie, was currently sprawled out on his bed texting Erin and occasionally looking up and telling him that he looks fine.
“Dyl, buddy, dearest brother of mine,” Stevie sighed, placing her phone face up on the bed. “You. Look. Fine! Please stop worrying.”
“I’m sorry, Vee,” he told her, one arm still in the jacket. “Just tell me what you think—jacket or no jacket?”
“Jacket,” Stevie immediately responded. “It’s cold out.”
“…but does it look good?”
“Yes, Dylan, it looks great.”
Dylan turned from the mirror hanging on his closet door to face his sister with a pout.
“Stevie, seriously!”
Groaning, Stevie pushed herself off the bed and approached her brother. She placed a hand on either of his shoulders and shook him none-too-gently.
“Stop. Worrying!” She said with exasperation, slowing her shaking so she could force him to look her in the eye. “You look good, with or without the stupid jacket, and Ajay isn’t going to care either way. He’s just going to see you and go damn look at this boy I get to go on a date with, what did I ever do to deserve—”
“He is not,” Dylan laughed, finally relaxing as Stevie continued to exaggeratedly swoon as ‘Ajay’.
But just as his nerves started to settle and Stevie’s imitation had reached Shakespeare-level dramatics, Dylan heard a car door shut outside and his phone buzzed a couple times in his back pocket. Rolling his eyes at his twin, now ‘fainting’ atop his bed arms swinging excessively, he pulled the device from his pocket to check his messages. There were a few, one from Thea wishing him luck on his date and a sarcastic don’t fuck it up from Skye followed by a second text saying i’m kidding u’ll be fine.
Then there was the one that brought a goofy nervous smile to his face and a tingling sensation under his skin. It was straightforward and simple—something that, really, didn’t warrant such a stomach-swooping reaction—just a quick text saying from Ajay informing him that he was here. But what really had made his heart skip a beat was the use of an old-fashioned smiley face emoji.
Mind focused solely on the adorableness of Ajay’s emoji usage, Dylan only distantly registered the sound of the front door opening and Max’s high-pitched barking. It wasn’t until Stevie was poking him in the cheek that he snapped back into reality, realizing he’d been staring at the little message on the phone’s screen.
“Well? Your boy’s here,” She said, one eyebrow raised and smile teasing. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
Dylan smiled and bit the inside of his cheek as he quickly went down the stairs, jumping the last three steps and spinning with his hand wrapped around the post to swiftly change direction to get to the front door. The front door where his mom was currently chatting with Ajay and saying who-knows-what.
Judging from the look in Ajay’s eyes as he noticed his arrival, one Dylan was frequently faced with whenever the older boy teased him, it was embarrassing. He could feel himself turning red already and he didn’t even know what was even being said.
“There he is!” his mother cooed after turning to see what had caught Ajay’s eye.
“Hey,” Ajay smiled. Despite his premature embarrassment, Dylan found himself returning the smile with a shy one of his own. “You ready? Because Mrs. Hart was in the middle of a really good story about—”
“BYE, Mom,” Dylan was quick to interrupt, face growing warmer and ears burning, as Ajay chuckled.
“You boys have fun,” his mom laughed as she waved goodbye, shutting the door behind them.
They walked silently to Ajay’s car. Dylan used the silence to debate with himself whether he could reach out and grab hold of Ajay’s hand or not, but by the time he had decided they’d reached the car. He quickly buckled in as Ajay started the car, sitting on his hands to stop them from fidgeting.
“Be honest,” Dylan broke the silence, tired of the nervous-bordering-awkward air they’d created. “How bad was the story?”
Ajay glanced at him, smile growing.
“So bad.”
Dylan groaned, hands freeing themselves from underneath his thighs to cover his burning face. Ajay laughed and Dylan felt one of his hands being pried away from his face.
“But it was cute too,” Ajay assured, left hand on the steering wheel and right hand wrapped around Dylan’s left.
He bit his bottom lip but couldn’t stop the wide smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth. There was still a tingling sensation underneath his skin, stomach still swooping, heart still in freefall, but the tight bundle of anxiety loosened as he threaded his fingers between Ajay’s and watched as the other boy’s cheeks slowly warmed.
He had a good feeling about this.