I'm not a messy guy. My studio is not a stereotypically filthy pigsty with beer bottles everywhere and a mattress with no sheets. There is sand on the floor and four surfboards taking up most of the space in my tiny kitchen but it's not horrible.

I rushed to the store to buy drinks and snacks as soon as I left the coffee shop, then spent an hour frantically cleaning my apartment. Somehow, I know that she won't really care about that. I just want her to be comfortable and to maybe think more highly of me after discovering that I'm not a slob.

This morning, I went to the library to borrow a few books that she listed in her outline. Cracking open the first one, I begin writing down one of the six preliminary research questions.

When I look up from my laptop, time has moved at warp speed, six approaching quickly. I lost track of time. Somehow, the hours have also seemed to crawl with infuriating slowness.

Even if she doesn't want to date me, even if she thinks I'm some kind of asshole, I'm excited to see her. I have eleven weeks to convince her to let me take her on one date. All I need is a single chance. She doesn't want casual. I'm wading into murky, uncharted waters, but if serious is the only way to spend time with her, then I'll be serious.

I can't smell like Pine-Sol when she gets here, so I jump quickly into the shower, watching my phone for a text from her or the food delivery.

Just as I slip a shirt over my head, the buzzer blares through the small space. My palms immediately start to sweat.

The delivery driver smiles as I open the door.

"Oh, hi," I try not to look too terribly disappointed as I take the bag from her.

"Will you sign here?" she hands me a receipt and a pen. After handing her the items, she leans against my door frame. "I saw on the receipt that you have Chicken Egg Foo Young and Hot Spicy Beef. Those are my favorites from Dynasty."

"You don't say."

"I don't recognize you. Have you ever ordered from there before?"

"I usually pick it up myself," I peer down the hallway.

"It's a lot of food. Are you having a party?"

"Nope, not tonight."

Please leave, please leave, please leave.

If she comes around the corner right now she's going to think that I'm flirting with- Fuck. And there she is...

As soon as she steps onto the landing, her eyes narrow slightly and her lips twitch into a smile.

"Am I early?"

"No," I answer way too quickly. "Not at all, come in, the food just arrived."

The delivery driver smiles awkwardly and bids us a quick 'goodnight.'

"Wow," she turns as soon as she steps inside. "Your place is so much cleaner than mine."

"I, uh... cleaned up a bit..."

She smiles and sets her bag down beside my small loveseat. "Have you already been working?" She looks at the books I have spread out.

"I might have gotten a bit done."

The softness of her smile makes my knees wobble. She's impressed.

"I told you I wanted someone to match my caliber, not someone who would do the whole project for me." I remind her with a wink. "Can I get you something to drink? I have water, beer, tea, coffee..."

"Water, please."

"Should we eat first?"

I need to calm down.

"Sure."

After setting out all of the food and making plates, we sit down in my living room which doubles as a bedroom to eat.

"You have the biggest collection of CDs that I've ever seen," She laughs as she looks at the stack closest to her.

Just as before, we fall into easy conversation. Nothing about her is made up. She's relaxed, funny, and smart as a whip but it's all real. She's not being funny to impress me. She's not putting on to show how smart she is. She's just being. I'm sure it's not only me that notices how similar we are. We like so many of the same things.

The longer we sit and chat, the more I want that date.

We work for almost three hours on the project, getting four of the remaining five preliminary research questions completed.

She loves the ocean as much as I do. She's... perfect.

"I should get going. I have an eight am class." She stands up just before ten o'clock.

"How are you getting home?" I'll be damned if I miss the opportunity to drive her this time.

"I was just planning to walk. We're actually almost neighbors. I live on Euston Street."

"I'm driving you."

"Connor, it's like a five-minute walk!" She closes her bag after packing all of her things.

"And it's a one-minute drive. I'm not taking no for an answer. It's dark out."

She purses her lips but concedes. "Alright, fine. Thank you."

Her apartment is less than one minute away by car. The ride is quiet but not uncomfortable.

"Evangeline," I stop her as she reaches for the door. "Please, come with me to that concert. It's five weeks away. Let's keep chipping away on the project and in five weeks if you still think I'm a piece of shit, I'll leave it alone. Give me that much time to prove that I'm not what you think I am."

"Connor," she sighs and looks at her hands in her lap. "I don't think you're a piece of shit. Not even a little bit. I might be seeing things that aren't there or putting my past bull shit on you... I just can't ever be a door mat in a relationship, not again."

"I obviously don't know what happened with your previous relationships but... I'm just asking for a chance. Please."

"Alright," she chuckles with a shake of her head. "Five weeks..."

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