Meet Me at Taylor Park by Jason W. Chan

played with the straw in her water.
    “You must be the rebellious type.” He grinned.
    “No,” she said, shaking her head. Her long brown hair spilled all over her shoulders.
    “Just the dreaming type.”
    “Lots of famous people are the dreaming types. Then, they do something about it, like you are. And then one day, they make it.”
    “You really think I can make it?”
    “You care enough to enter a contest, and make all those sketches. You’ll make it.”
    In the candlelit semidarkness, Katie stared at Brandon. She thought he was just another guy when she first met him, but somehow, he looked cuter now.
    He took a sip of his water. “I bet you’ve even made dresses already, haven’t you?”
    She nodded. “Four.”
    He laughed. “That’s the kind of passion that puts me to shame.”
    She was surprised. “You don’t have any hobbies or passions?”
    “My mom and dad both work on Bay Street in Toronto. My dad wants me to follow in his footsteps and do investment banking. Any impractical pursuits are discouraged.”
    She found herself drawn to him more. “I know how you feel.”
    He nodded sympathetically.
    He reached for her hand across the table, slowly and nervously. His hand was so cold that she almost jerked it away, but she let him touch it.
    For a while, they didn’t talk, but the silence was comfortable. They looked out the window. What little fall sunlight had been there was now gone. It was dark and windy. Brandon looked up shyly at her, and she did the same.
    In a little while, the server returned with two dishes and a glass of apple juice. Brandon withdrew his hand.
    Katie could smell the oregano going through her nostrils. She dug into her linguine with gusto.
    They ate in silence, but every once in a while, Katie would catch Brandon sneaking a glance her way.
    He finished chewing and wiped his mouth. “How’s the oregano?”
    “The best I’ve ever had.”
    He laughed, and shook his head.
    She stopped eating. “What?” A grin crept onto her face.
    “I’ve never met a girl that liked spices so much.”
    “I’m spicy,” she said, giving him an amused look.
    That got him laughing again, so hard that he almost coughed up his lasagna.
    She tried to stifle a chuckle.
    When the bill arrived, Brandon snatched it up immediately. “I insist.”
    “I thought I was treating you.” Katie reached for the bill.
    “Nah, there’s something about the guy paying that makes more sense to me. Maybe when you’re a rich and famous fashion designer with your own line, I can mooch off you and you can pay for every meal.”
    She giggled.
    He reached into his wallet and took out a bill. “Of course, I’ll be ordering lobster, king crab, caviar and champagne every night. And not the cheap kind either.” He winked at her.
    Katie laughed again. She was beginning to feel giddy inside.
    Brandon drove Katie home and stopped in front of her house, turning off the engine. He took a look at her house. It was very small.
    She noticed him staring, and he tried to avert his gaze.
    She pointed at her house. “It’s a very cozy house.”
    “I didn’t mean to stare.”
    “That’s alright.”
    A draft came in from outside and she shivered.
    He noticed and said, “Let me turn on the heat.”
    She held up one hand. “No, it’s OK. I have to go anyway.”
    She put one hand on the door handle and started to open the door. She paused, and turned around.
    Brandon was leaning into her.
    She moved into him like she was going to kiss him. Instead, she hugged him and whispered in his ears, “Thanks for the help. And the food. And the ride.”
    “You’re welcome.” He put a finger on her warm cheek and stroked it. He leaned in and she pulled back.
    He pulled back too.
    Katie played with her hair, twirling a strand around one finger like spaghetti. “Listen, I think you’re really nice and all, but I’m leaving for New York in the Fall, after we graduate. I don’t really want to start anything now. We could both