Ares walked away from Kairos with a pace that was just a fraction too quick to be casual. Her heart was performing a frantic, staccato rhythm against her ribs, a wild drumbeat completely at odds with the serene expression she'd plastered on her face.
It's a date. He asked me on a date. I said yes.
The words looped in her mind, each repetition sending a fresh jolt of something between panic and giddiness through her system. The cool, composed facade she had mastered over years of navigating expectations was threatening to crack wide open.
She'd seen him approaching. She'd had a few seconds to prepare, to slip the mask into place. She'd been looking at the leaderboard, yes, but she'd also been looking at his name in their chat log, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the app's success. When he'd appeared, all earnest eyes and nervous energy, the mask had held. She'd even managed to tease him about the word filter.
But then he'd asked. Not in a message. Not in code. In person. With his hands shoved in his pockets and his ears turning pink.
Food that doesn't come in a box. A conversation that isn't about MongoDB.
It was the most Kairos way to ask someone out she could possibly imagine. Clumsy, specific, and utterly, disarmingly genuine. And in that moment, every calculated response, every risk-assessment her brain typically ran, short-circuited. The only word left in her vocabulary was yes.
The moment she'd agreed, the panic had set in. The mask began to slip. She could feel it-a telltale heat creeping up her neck, a slight tremble in her hands. She needed an exit. A graceful, logical, composed exit.
I have to go. I have a meeting with Professor Evans.
The lie had sprung to her lips, fully formed and utterly convincing. It was the kind of responsible, academically focused excuse Ares Peterson would have. It was expected. It provided the perfect cover for the sheer, unadulterated flight response that was urging her to literally run away.
She'd delivered the line, added her playful condition about the pigeon (a pathetic attempt to regain some semblance of control), and made her escape. She didn't look back. She couldn't. If she had seen the look on his face-confused, hopeful, adorable-she might have done something terribly un-composed, like tripping over her own feet or, worse, going back and telling him she was free right now.
She pushed through the doors of her dorm, her breath coming in short gasps that had nothing to do with the exertion. She fumbled with her keys, finally bursting into the quiet, familiar space.
Selene was lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She took one look at Ares's flushed face and wide eyes and slowly put her phone down. "Whoa. What happened? Did the server crash? Did the pigeon report you?"
Ares dropped her bag by the door and leaned against it, pressing her cool palms to her hot cheeks. "He asked me out."
Selene's eyebrows shot up. "The coding boy? Kairos?"
Ares nodded, unable to speak.
A huge grin spread across Selene's face. "Well, well, well. It's about time. And? What did you say? Please tell me you didn't give him a lecture on the time complexity of dating."
"I said yes," Ares whispered, as if confessing to a crime.
Selene launched a throw pillow at her. "YES! Okay, okay, details. Where? When? What did he say?"
"I don't know!" Ares wailed, finally pushing off the door and collapsing into an armchair. "I didn't let him finish! I panicked! I told him I had a meeting with Professor Evans and that he had to figure out where we're going and then I just... left."
Selene stared at her, her grin fading into a look of affectionate disbelief. "You... you ran away."
"It was a strategic retreat!"
"It was a full-on rout," Selene corrected, laughing. "Ares 'The Glacier' Peterson, brought down by a single invitation to dinner. I love it. So, let me get this straight. You, who has negotiated with deans and presented to investors without breaking a sweat, just fled from a boy because he was nice to you."
Put that way, it sounded ridiculous. Because it was. Ares buried her face in her hands. "What is wrong with me? This is... this is a project partner. This is messy. This is unpredictable."
"This is a date," Selene said, her voice softening. "It's supposed to be a little messy. It's supposed to be fun. Remember fun?"
Ares peeked through her fingers. "What if it's awkward? What if we have nothing to talk about without a server error to bond over?"
"Then you talk about the weather. Or your weird families. Or how you both inexplicably know all the words to Miku songs," Selene said, getting up and coming to sit on the arm of her chair. "You'll figure it out. He's not some random guy. You've already built a whole world with him. Now you just get to go see what a meal tastes like in it."
The analogy was surprisingly calming. They had built something. They had a foundation. It wasn't a blind date. It was... Kairos.
"He's going to pick somewhere terrible," Ares moaned, though a smile was finally tugging at her lips. "It's going to be a burger place with sticky floors and they'll probably get our order wrong."
"And it will be a great story," Selene declared. "Now, get up. We need to figure out what you're wearing. You can't wear a blazer on a date. It's against the law."
As Selene dragged her toward her bedroom, chattering about outfits and first-date protocols, Ares's panic began to recede, replaced by a nervous, fluttering anticipation. She'd spent so long being the one in control, the one with the plan, the one who knew the next ten steps.
For the first time, she had no idea what would happen next. And for the first time, that didn't feel terrifying.
It felt exciting.
She had a date. With Kairos. And she was absolutely, completely, and wonderfully nervous about it.