I'm already out the door.
Silas is waiting outside. Leaning against the brick wall of the library, hands in his jacket pockets, book under his arm. The late afternoon light catches the angles of his face and I think, not for the first time, that he looks like someone a better writer than me would know how to describe.
"Hey," he says.
"You waited."
"Said I'd pick you up at six. It's six."
"The date's not until — I figured you meant you'd pick me up at the shelter."
"I'd rather walk with you. If that's okay."
It's more than okay. We fall into step together, heading toward Madison. The October evening is cool but not cold, the last of the daylight turning everything gold. Our shoulders brush. His hand hangs at his side, close to mine, and I think about reaching for it but don't. Eight days is not long enough to know if someone wants you to hold their hand on a public street.
"You're thinking loud," he says.
"How can you tell?"
"Your eyebrows do a thing. Like they're arguing with each other."
"My eyebrows argue?"
"Constantly. It's distracting."
"Sorry about my argumentative eyebrows."
"Don't be. I like them."
We're on Madison now, the neighborhood changing. Quieter, less maintained, the streetlights fewer. Haven House is two blocks ahead. The walk is familiar, the route I take every night, but walking it with Silas next to me changes the geography. Makes it feel less like a trudge toward necessity and more like a walk with someone who chose to be here.
"So," I say. "Italian place on Pine. What's it called?"
"Lucia's. Small, quiet, good pasta. Jason recommended it."
We're half a block from Haven House. I can see the rainbow flag, the porch light. The place I go every night. The place I'm taking him to see with full daylight still in the sky, no shadows to hide in.
"I should change," I say as we reach Haven House. "The gray henley's clean. It's not fancy but —"
"Dev." He stops walking. Turns to me. "You could show up in a garbage bag and I'd still want to have dinner with you."
"That's sweet but also a low bar."
"You know what I mean."
I do. I look at Haven House, then back at him. "You want to come up? Tyler might be there but he'll leave if I ask. The room's small and messy but —"
"I'll wait down here. Take your time."
Right. Of course. He's not going to come up to my room at the shelter. That's too much, too soon, too —
"Hey." He catches my hand. "It's not that I don't want to. It's that the first time I see your space, I want you to feel good about it. Not rushed before a date."
Oh. That's not rejection. That's thoughtfulness.
"Okay," I say. "Give me twenty minutes."
"I'll be here."