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Adam prepped and prepared all weekend for his first coffee date with Olive Smith.
Fake coffee date, he corrects.
He tossed and turned all weekend, mulling over all that had happened since she kissed him in the hallway. Was he an idiot for agreeing to go along with this farce? Absolutely. But it’s Olive, and for the first time since the day she interviewed, she needs Adam’s help. He’s not going to let her down now. Still, it feels wrong. Selfish. Like he’s gaining significantly more from this situation than she is. Olive is the recipient of a date with an emotionally stunted man, while Adam will have a few glorious weeks getting to know her.
Which is why he needs to be at his best.
Olive deserves more, and he’d be damned if he doesn’t try his hardest to make this a good date for her. Maybe that will even the score and ensure she still wants coffee with him next week. Holden’s advice wouldn’t be helpful, so Adam doesn’t ask. He’s a firm believer in kissing and sex on a first date, and that’s not happening here. He’s also suave and charming, where Adam is stilted and factual. Instead, he resorted to Google come Monday night. It’s low, even for him, but research is research. Most of his findings are straightforward, and Adam doesn’t understand why they need to be said.
Show up on time (as if he would ever be late to a date with Olive Smith. Adam snorted when he realized the article was serious).
Be mindful of touching.
Be present for your date.
Be polite.
Dress to impress.
Take the lead, and only allow your date to pay should they request it.
Be respectful and avoid taboo topics during the first date.
Don’t spend the entire date on your phone.
If you’re driving, make sure your car is clean.
Stupid things, ridiculous things that aren’t a concern nor a help for Adam. His car is always spotless; he would never waste time on his phone instead of paying attention to Olive; they discussed touching during ground rules; and he would rather eat his own arm than offend her. Adam’s biggest concern is his inability for small talk, but there’s something about Olive…
She makes him open and bloom like a flower in spring. Not forcefully. No, no. In a way that makes Adam feel steady and calm, like a quiet hike. He’ll do the best he can and take Olive’s lead with topics she’s willing to discuss. He’s kept up on her project quietly, fading into the background during seminar talks, asking Aysegul questions here and there. Nothing discreet. She’s doing well, but that’s not news. Adam will never forget meeting Olive in his bathroom. She might’ve been crying, but her drive and passion were evident, even then. It feels like a lifetime ago.
Adam can do this.
He can take the woman of his dreams — who admittedly doesn’t know that’s how Adam feels. Olive is wholly unaware of his existence in her life prior to the kiss. If he’s smart, he will tell her. If he’s lucky, she won’t run for the hills — to get a coffee. It’s just coffee. No big deal. Adam reminds himself that he drinks coffee every day. He’s ordered from the coffee shop on campus before; he knows exactly how to order and won’t have to fumble over a menu or try to decipher if they use ridiculous names for their sizes. Coming across as a bumbling idiot who can’t do something as simple as order a coffee is not how Adam wants today to go.
He wears the same outfit as he wore on the night because apparently Adam is a sap now. He looks as good in this as anything else, though it doesn’t seem like his choice in black clothing prompted her to acknowledge his existence. It doesn’t matter. Adam will cherish these 10-minute dates when September 29th comes, and he wants to help Olive. That’s most important.
“Walk in, say hello. Ask what she’d like to order and insist on paying. If she pushes, tell her graduate stipends are horrendous, and you cannot in good conscience allow her to pay. Stick to neutral topics, or ask how her studies are going. It’s fine.”
Adam repeats his plan to himself as nears the coffee shop, determined not to mess this up. He wants to make a better first impression on Olive. She doesn’t deserve awkward conversation, and Adam wants to show he’s capable of spending time with people. With her. To prove that he’s more than just Dr. Evil, as she called him. He’d heard that nickname before, but never from Olive. Those two little words were the only thing that snapped him from his dream state, because he had been sure the kiss was a dream. Adam straightens his spine, feeling more and more like he’s preparing for war than ordering coffee, and pushes the door open. He finds her immediately.
“Hello!”
Oh.
Fuck.
He doesn’t know what he expected; this was never going to go well. Adam likes no one — next to no one, but not Olive. He liked her from the start, and still doesn’t understand why. The biggest issue in his thirty-plus years of existence is the fact that she doesn’t remember meeting him, seeing as it’s a memory he plays on repeat even when he forces himself to stop. Adam planned to wait until she graduated and to do what he could to strike up a conversation if they ran into each other at a conference. He never expected this.
Olive, standing at the counter and smiling at him. Beaming hello, as if she were happy to be here. He could even pretend she’s happy to see him, if he wants to. She’s in a red tank top with a red cardigan. She looks perfect, the way she always does. It doesn’t matter if she wears leggings and a ratty t-shirt, or the jean skirt she’s sporting now that makes her legs look miles long. She’s just — fuck, he really didn’t think this through.
He needs to get it together.
The fact that she’s still standing there, smiling at him, means it hasn’t been long, but if he doesn’t get a grip soon, she’s going to think he’s incapable of human speech. He should do what he planned and say hello back. That was the plan: walk in and say hello. Not walk in and lose the ability to breathe. He forces his feet to move toward her like the beacon of light she is.
Adam can’t believe she came. He thought she’d run for the hills instead of go along with this farce; Adam isn’t naïve. No rational human being would want to date him. This could ruin Olive’s reputation with her friends. It’s possible even one or two faculty members will judge her. Mock her for dating someone they believe to be heartless. With the way it’s currently beating out his chest, he knows it’s not true. He forces himself to be calm and collected, but deep down he’s anything but.
He’s going on a date with Olive Smith.
Adam’s throat closes, swallowing his hello down with it. He loses all rational thought when the barista speaks.
“Doctor —”
“One coffee. Black.” Shit, fuck, damn. The plan was to say hello to Olive and ask her what she’d like to drink. Salvage this. Salvage it now. “And…um —”
Olive takes everything in stride, not missing a beat. “Can I get the velvet caramel and white chocolate bliss with extra whipped cream?”
What? That’s not coffee. It doesn’t have the word coffee, espresso, latte, or —
“And can I get chocolate sprinkles on there too?”
Adam looks straight ahead, holding his wallet like a lifeline. His brain is addled, muddied by new knowledge. He’s watched Olive like a voyeur over the years, even if he didn’t mean to. He’s seen the way she plays with Dr. Moss’ kids at staff picnics. Felt disbelief over the amount of free food she could stomach during seminar talks and work functions. Been endeared by her appetite the size of a baby elephant. Noted how diligently she worked and the long hours she kept in the lab. But never, never had he known she would order a drink like that. It shouldn’t even be classified as a drink. It’s more of a glorified milkshake. Still, he’s learned a new fact about Olive, and that’s something in Adam’s book.
She likes sugar.
He pays without a second thought, warmth filling him with the knowledge he’s buying her something she’s going to enjoy. She rocks on her heels, eyeing him curiously. This is his life now. A life where Olive stands next to him while he pays for their coffee.
What a beautiful life it is.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I thought for a moment there you were going to stand me up.”
Adam startles. “Was I late?”
He didn’t think so. He burned the time into his brain, unwilling to lose a second.
“No. I just…you know, second thoughts and all that. Cold feet. I thought you changed your mind.”
Over his dead body.
“No.”
“No,” she nods.
He knows he’s already making a mess of things. He didn’t say hello. He didn’t ask what she wanted to order. He didn’t explain why it felt important for him to pay. Now? Now he can’t think of anything to say except —
“Your drink likely has an entire day’s worth of sugar in it.”
Fuck his life.
This probably breaks the ‘do not be offensive’ and ‘do not bring up controversial things’ suggestions, but he can’t help himself. What if she doesn’t know, or if no one has ever mentioned it? Her arteries and smile mean something to him.
“And I can’t wait to drink every bit of it.”
She’s grinning at him, which is good, surely. That means he hasn’t offended her. It’s doing strange things to his insides. A foreign fluttering erupts in his stomach.
“Are you sure it has coffee in it?”
“You should try one. It’s delicious. Especially with chocolate sprinkles.”
It makes sense. Olive is a chocolate sprinkles kind of girl. All happy and goodness. She’s sparkly and fun. She embodies sprinkles, just like her freckles.
“Do you always order black coffee?”
“Yes. Do you always order…those?”
“No. I like to mix it up. Walk on the wild side. Pumpkin spice season is my jam, but the velvet caramel and white chocolate bliss is old faithful, y’know? Never lets me down. Thanks for paying, by the way.”
“I wouldn’t have felt right. Grad stipends.”
“They’re the worst. I swear they should be illegal.”
Adam’s hackles rose. He remembers how awful grad school was for more than one reason. The thought of Olive suffering is…no. He’s not okay with that.
“Adam and Olive!”
It’s good that their names are called before he can do something idiotic, like offer her money or his house. His car is up for grabs, too. Anything he has, it’s hers. She can take it. She already owns his heart. His belongings are nothing compared to that. They turn, moving to grab their respective cups. When they do, time slows. The Earth tilts on its axis.
Olive’s hand brushes his, and Adam thinks he could die right here in the campus coffee shop.
Her skin is soft and warm. So gentle against his. She freezes, staring at the same spot that’s lighting Adam’s world on fire. Have sounds ever been this sharp? Colors so bright? He doesn’t think so. It’s Olive, and the effect she has on him. They take spots near the window, and when she tastes the first sip, her eyes flutter closed. She looks incandescently happy. Adam can’t think of anything to say, and even if he could, he wouldn’t want to interrupt her reverie. Instead, he brings his own coffee to his lips.
It’s never tasted so sweet.