Thanks

I have a spreadsheet.

A dedicated line item. "See Delivery Man: $85/month." I track it like I track my utilities. Like it's a necessary expense. Like I'm not a thirty-year-old woman with a master's degree paying money just to glimpse a man in brown shorts.

The tracking app says "Out for delivery."

I check my hair in the bathroom mirror. Adjust my sweater. It's casual. I look like someone who was definitely NOT waiting by the door for the past forty minutes.

The doorbell rings.

My stomach does something stupid.

I count to five, too eager otherwise, then open the door.

And there he is. Lucas. I learned his name from the delivery confirmation emails. Lucas A. I don't know what the A stands for. I've wondered. I've wondered a LOT.

"Package for Vasquez?"

God, his voice. Warm and deep with this slight accent I can't quite place. British? Something else underneath. Every time I hear it, my brain short-circuits.

"That's me."

He hands me the box. Our fingers don't touch. They never touch. But the gap between his hand and mine is maybe two centimeters, and yes, I'm calculating millimeters like the data analyst I supposedly am.

He smiles. "Have a nice day."

Say something. Say ANYTHING. You had six weeks to prepare. You've been doing this for WEEKS. You've had dozens of chances. SPEAK.

"Thanks."

One syllable.

One single, pathetic syllable.

He nods, already turning. "See you next time."

Next time. There's always a next time because I can't stop ordering things I don't need from the internet like a person with zero impulse control and even less dignity.

I close the door. Lean against it. Slide down until I'm sitting on the floor, box in my lap, contemplating my life choices.

The box contains a phone case. For an iPhone 7. I have an iPhone 13. I don't know anyone with an iPhone 7. I bought this because it was $6.99 and Prime-eligible and tracking said "arrives tomorrow" and I needed tomorrow to happen.

My phone buzzes. Oscar, my best friend and coworker.

How'd it go? Did you talk to him?

I read it twice. Consider lying.

I said "thanks."

Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.

NINA.

I know.

You've been doing this for SIX WEEKS.

I KNOW.

Just TALK to him. Say words. Multiple words. In a row.

I look at the phone case in my lap. The iPhone 7 case that's completely useless to me. Evidence of my spiral.

I had a whole thing planned. I was going to mention the weather.

And?

I forgot to mention the weather.

What about the weather?

Nothing! That's the point! I was going to say "Nice weather" because that's a THING PEOPLE SAY and instead I said "thanks" and now I want to move to another country.

The typing indicator appears for a long time.

I'm making you a pie chart.

Please don't.

Too late. See you at work.

I sit on my floor, surrounded by evidence of bad decisions, and open the Amazon app.

Surely one more package won't hurt.

Something small. Something cheap. Something that will arrive tomorrow so I have another reason to be home when the doorbell rings.

I add a phone case to my cart. Another one. For a phone I still don't own.

I buy it anyway.

Because maybe tomorrow I'll say something besides "thanks."

Maybe tomorrow I'll be normal.

Maybe tomorrow my brain will work when he smiles at me.

Probably not.

But hope is a hell of a drug.

And I have a budget for it.