Between Then and Now

CHAPTER TWENTY

Bonita

I am acting like a worried wife waiting for her husband to come home. I’m practically glued to the door, sneaking peeks out of the window like a character in a soap opera, hoping Ryan will magically materialize on the beachfront. Even Puppy is following me around as I pace. Ever since our practice date, I’ve been keeping a polite distance. Avoiding Ryan was my grand plan, my way of keeping my emotions neatly tucked away. But honestly, seeing him get ready earlier today somehow restarted me and my emotions. I’m not as conflicted as I was anymore. I promise. I’m totally fine now. I swear.

He likes Alexa, and I’m here to help them hit it off. And today is their first date. I’m supposed to be the supportive wingwoman I claimed I was going to be. So, I imagine their evening together—Ryan’s charmingly awkward attempts at flirtation, Alexa’s radiant smile, and the way they might bond over dinner, sharing stories that make their hearts race just a little faster. And I try my very best to be absolutely happy for them.

And since I’m absolutely, one hundred percent happy for them, I’m going to accept the fact that Ryan might not even come back tonight. Because, obviously, a good date will end with them together for a longer period.

All these thoughts make it hard for me to go to sleep. I toss and turn like a human maraca. I try to convince myself it’s all perfectly normal—the anxiety of seeing someone you care about go on a date with someone else. It’s just my friendly overprotectiveness and my love for gossip that’s keeping me awake, waiting for him .

I come to the conclusion that there is no way I’d sleep right now, so I take out my laptop and scan through the movies I downloaded before the trip. Every time things are getting intense in my brain, I like watching horror movies alone. No, not because I’m brave or actually enjoy it. But for some reason, it really helps distract me from my thoughts. The anticipation of the jump scares keeps me distracted, and the adrenaline rush somehow overrides my own anxieties. Not to mention, watching the characters face life-or-death situations makes my own problems seem smaller in a way. Like a weird form of therapy.

So, I take my microwave popcorn to the inn’s shared pantry and pour the contents into a bowl. I settle into bed, laptop propped up, and start a movie I’ve seen a dozen times– Annabelle . Just as the first jump scare happens, I jump too, but not because of the movie. The sound of the door opening startles me so much that I scatter popcorn all over my bed. “Holy Annabelle!” I exclaim, clutching my chest as I pause the movie. I look at the door and see Ryan standing there, equally shocked.

“Oh my god, it’s just you,” I say, my heart still racing.

“Who else would it be?” Ryan asks, looking genuinely confused.

“A demon-possessed doll or something,” I reply, waving a hand at the paused image of Annabelle on the screen. “So, how’s the big date?”

“Demon-possessed doll? Where did that come from?” he asks, glancing at the laptop and then back at me.

I roll my eyes playfully. “It’s from the movie I was watching. You know, horror stuff.” I hold up my laptop to show him what I’m watching. “Anyway, how did it go with Alexa?” I ask again, hoping I don’t sound overeager .

“It was… okay,” he says, plopping himself on the bed to remove his shoes. “I don’t really have any stories because honestly, nothing happened. It was just dinner, and that’s it,” he says as he stares at me with an expression I can’t quite comprehend. I don’t know why I feel relieved to hear that their date was uneventful, and it’s also confusing because Ryan doesn’t even look disappointed.

“Oh? No sparks flying and birds chirping?” I ask.

Ryan shakes his head, looking a bit puzzled. “No, it was just... normal. We talked, we ate, and then we went our separate ways. I guess I expected something more exciting.”

“Maybe you’re just nervous and overthinking it,” I suggest. “First dates can be awkward. The next one will probably be better.”

“Right. The next one.” Ryan says as he stands up to make his way to the bathroom. “By the way, what are you doing watching horror movies alone at night?” He is standing at the door frame, about to go inside, when he turns to me.

I shrug. “Nothing, just keeps me distracted and calm,” I say, hoping I don’t sound obvious about what I need distraction from.

“Really? Horror movies help you calm down?” Ryan asks, pulling off his shirt and changing into pajamas. He doesn’t bother closing the door, and for a split second, I catch sight of his toned physique, and, well, it’s pretty much confirmed—he’s ripped. The minions from hell are not going easy on me tonight.

“Yeah, I know it sounds weird,” I admit, starting to clear up the popcorn debris from my bed so I can shift my attention anywhere except Ryan’s body.

“It’s the least weird thing about you, Bon,” Ryan says as he pulls a clean shirt over his head and shuffles back over to my bed. He sits down beside me, our arms brushing against each other, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. I instinctively move to one side of the bed to give him space.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, suddenly very aware of how close we are.

“Testing out your theory. I need the distraction too,” he says as he grabs a handful of popcorn from my bowl and shoving it in his mouth like he’s been starving for hours.

“Why? What happened on your date that was so bad you needed a distraction?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“Nothing,” he says as I glare at him. “Fine.” He lets out a dramatic sigh and shifts so that he’s no longer leaning beside me but sitting directly in front of me. “Well, she made a move to kiss me, and I... moved away.”

And that statement makes me pause the movie we’re watching and throw my laptop beside me. “You dodged a kiss? WHY?”

He looks up, his expression both mortified and confused. “I don’t know! It was instinct. I saw her leaning in, and my brain just short-circuited. Before I knew it, I was backing away and saying good night to her.”

I raise an eyebrow, trying to process this. “So, you’re telling me you went into full panic mode at the mere prospect of a kiss?”

He sighs. “Yes. I haven’t had a girlfriend in years, I got scared.”

“How did she take it?” I ask, looking at him intently.

“She laughed it off and said, ‘maybe next time, then’” He shakes his head in embarrassment. All the tension we felt up until tonight suddenly evaporated in thin air, replaced with thoughts of Ryan panicking over a singular kiss .

I chuckle slowly and look at him. He catches my eye, and Ryan chuckles back. At first, it’s just little giggles but then it’s as if an on switch is flipped because before we know it, we’re both laughing so hard we clutch our stomachs and gasp for breath.

After recovering from all the laughing, I say “That has to be the most terrible date in history.”

He tells me all about the date and how the kiss wasn’t the only awkward part about it. Apparently, the entire night was terrible. Despite that, I ask “And you’re going on another one?”

He nods. “Next Saturday,” he says as he returns to sit beside me. He crosses his arm over me to reach for my laptop and says, “Now you see why I need your demon-possessed doll friend.”

“I’ll share her with you. Just for today.” I smile and press play on my laptop. I immediately squeal at the jump-scare that plays. Ryan laughs as he grabs another handful of popcorn from our now-shared bowl.

“Hey, Bon, can I ask you something?” he says as he looks down at me from where we’re sitting.

“Shoot.”

“I was thinking of trying a new hobby soon. Maybe something creative. Do you have any recommendations?” Ryan asks all of a sudden.

I knit my brows together. “Well, that’s random. But if you think I’ll only give you a recommendation, then get out of my bed because you don’t know me. I can create an entire Pinterest board of ideas,” I say, then I realize who I’m talking to. “Oops, I forgot. Mr. Oldie, Pinterest is a platform where you can get all sorts of inspiration for all sorts of things.” I pull out my phone and scroll through my Pinterest page, which somehow makes Ryan chuckle .

“Oooh! You might wanna try pottery. Though your anger issues might not be of help there. But then again, you’re also someone who surprisingly enjoys motorcycles, so maybe you can try firing.” I make a gun sign with my hand to provide a more descriptive image. “Haley and I actually scheduled a firing appointment; I think you can easily squeeze in with us.” I’m about to suggest more hobbies, but then I arrive at a sudden realization, “Wait. Why are you asking?”

“Nothing,” Ryan says, but a smile is playing on his lips. “Another thing.”

“Yeah?” I ask, wiping my butter-infused finger on a napkin.

“Can you help me with the kissing issue?” he blurts out like he just suggested something as casual as a walk on the beach. I look up at him, bewildered.

“What do you mean?” I ask, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

He leans in slightly, his voice lowering. “Well, it’s not just about the kiss itself. It’s more about how to get over the panic and actually, you know, be present in the moment. You’re great at this sort of stuff, so I thought maybe you could give me a few tips.”

I blink at him, caught off guard by the request. “I’m great at this sort of stuff? Me? How did you come to that conclusion?”

“Because I’ve seen you kiss and get kissed multiple times outside your house. In fact, it’s a running bet between all of us every time a date drives you home,” he states it like it’s a known fact. “Will they kiss in the car or the front door?”

I roll my eyes. “You’re all stupid. Anyway, it’s not like that makes me an expert.”

“Between us two, yeah it does. ”

I hesitate for a moment, then shrug. “Fine. I suppose I can give you some tips. But you’re going to have to be a good sport about it.”

Ryan grins, clearly relieved. “Deal. What’s first?”

I think for a moment, then say, “Alright, let’s start with something basic. Imagine the kiss isn’t this huge, stressful thing. It’s just a simple gesture between two people who like each other. It doesn’t have to be perfect,” I say. “Besides, I don’t think anything can be worse than how you reacted tonight.” I smirk, and he scowls at me.

Ryan stands up suddenly. At the same time, a woman shrieks in the horror movie I forgot we were even watching. I thought I paused this. Ugh. So much for distraction. “I think the better way would be for you to show me.”

The words hit me like a freight train. My breath catches, and I find myself gasping for air in a way that sounds more like a hiccup than anything else. “Show you? You mean, you want to actually… practice kissing? With me?” I blurt out, my voice a mix of disbelief and an undercurrent of something I can’t quite name.

“No, not the actual kissing, just the buildup you’re talking about,” he says. “But I suppose it would be awkward…” He hesitates, his eyebrows knitted together.

“No, it wouldn’t!” I say too soon.

If I don’t agree to this, it’ll be glaringly obvious that I’m wrestling with a tangle of emotions. It shouldn’t matter if a friend wants advice on kissing or even wants to practice. I’d do it for my other friends without a second thought. It’s like that Friends episode where Chandler kisses everyone on the lips and it doesn't mean anything. It should be like that, right ?

The rational part of my brain tells me it’s just the build-up. Not even the real kiss. But the emotional part is screaming about the boundaries being blurred and the potential mess of feelings that might come with it. It’s one of those instances with the devil on one side of your ear and an angel on the other. The devil is telling me to go through with it because I know deep down I want it and that there’s no way that an opportunity like this will come again (cunning little thing). The angel, on the other hand, is throwing its hands in the air and screaming at me to compose myself and not complicate things (yes, I’m with you!)

I take a deep breath, trying to summon the kind of calm that usually only comes after binge-watching dog videos or indulging in a big bowl of ice cream. I remind myself that this is just about helping Ryan get over his nerves. It’s not a declaration of anything more. It’s basically a ‘How to Kiss 101’ tutorial, not some grand romantic gesture. I nod slowly, trying to exude more confidence than I’m feeling. So, I tell the angel on my shoulder that today is not her day. Sorry. “Okay. If it’ll help you get over the nerves, then sure. But let’s keep it simple, alright?”

I stand up in front of him and suddenly, I’m aware of every little detail–my Tom and Jerry pajamas that are a few sizes small, the way Ryan’s blue-gray eyes scan me from head to toe, finally landing on my eyes with a mixture of curiosity and something darker. The way I’m looking up at him and how actually tall he is. Again. The way the room is suddenly too hot but also cold enough to give me shivers.

He takes a deep breath and says, “Sounds good to me.”

And there it is—the moment of truth, where my heart is doing a weird dance between ‘Oh no, what am I doing?’ and ‘Alright, let’s get this over with.’ I try to shake off the jitters and focus. I mean, how hard can it be? It’s just a quick practice, right? The worst that can happen is a one-second peck on the lips. Yeah, right. The worst .

“Okay,” I start. “So, the moment comes and you’re in front of each other. Like this. You sense that she wants to kiss you because her eyes linger on your lips,” I say, my eyes doing exactly that. “Like this,” I add in a softer tone, a voice that doesn’t sound like me.

Ryan nods, trying to look as if he’s visualizing this in his mind’s eye. “Yeah, and then I’ll look at her lips too, right?” His voice is deeper, raspier than it usually is.

I give him a reassuring nod. “Exactly. It’s like the universal sign that a kiss is about to happen. You don’t want to be that guy who’s still staring at her eyes while she’s leaning in. It’s just... awkward.”

He chuckles. “Joke’s on you, I was already that guy,” he says. “Next?”

“Next,” I continue, trying to keep my tone casual despite the racing thoughts in my head, “you need to make sure you’re not freaking out inside. Breathe. Relax. You’ve got this.” I make circular motions with my arms to gesture for him to breathe. “You lean in slowly, giving her time to adjust.” And Ryan leans in, and suddenly I’m acutely aware of the mere inches between us. I say softly, “and when my– her –” what the hell. “–eyes close, you go for it. Nice and gentle.”

The room seems to shrink, focusing solely on this tiny, intense space. His hand gently cups my cheek, and I can feel the warmth of his palm. He tilts my face upward, and his fingers brush lightly against my skin, making me shiver despite the warmth. I lose all ability to speak, and so I just blink at him in response to his movement .

“Nice and gentle,” Ryan repeats, nodding. “Got it. I can do gentle.”

What are we doing? This is it. It’s over. This is already the build-up. We’re supposed to move away now. Hello, body, move, please!

My body, disconnected from my brain, moves closer. So, I mentally prepare myself for the kiss that may or may not come, treating it like any other mundane activity—like baking cookies or assembling IKEA furniture (both of which I am terrible at). I look at his eyes, aiming to keep it short and sweet, and—well, I guess we’re doing this.