The Meeting Point by Olivia Lara

Six

Why am I overthinking these questions? It’s a game, Maya. Who cares what you ask? Apparently, I do, and it takes me a while to come up with fifty questions. Not because I can’t think of any, but because trying to imagine what kind of person he is and what I should ask to get to know him—without ever seeing him—is the reverse of how my imagination works. I usually see someone and then create a story around that. Now I’ll have to come up with a story from the answers and then build the image to go with it. I know so far that he’s a Lift driver, he lives somewhere in Northern California, and he seems nice. That’s all.

This exercise reminds me of Alisa and her online dating adventures. Not that I’m thinking of him as an online date. Not at all. There’s no romantic interest here. I’m curious; that’s all there is to it. It’s a new experience, and I’m allowing myself to be… intrigued. Yes, that’s the word. I’m intrigued.

Number 7, I text.

Have you ever eaten food that fell on the floor? he writes back.

I chuckle. That’s his question? OK…

Does the 5-second rule apply?

Outside of the 5-second rule.

Then no.

I did. Number 3.

Have you ever lied to your parents about where you’re going?

Is it a trick question? Of course! But that was a long time ago.

That’s a clue. A long time ago. He sounds older than I am. Although, if I think about it, high school was a long time ago for me too. I didn’t, I say.

Then you’re a much better person than I am.

I roll my eyes.

Or I was just a boring teenager. Number 13.

Have you ever done something you regretted?he texts.

That’s a tough question. And kind of ironic.

Many times. Today for instance.

I hope you’re not talking about this trip, he texts.

No.

I get a small tinge in my stomach and find myself smiling at the phone.

Good. Number 10, he says.

Time for some this or that. Tea or Coffee? I text.

Easy one. Coffee.

Same here. Do you have a favorite?

Strong coffee? And lots of it? he texts and then sends laughing emojis.

Totally with him on that one.

My turn. Number 21, I text.

Have you ever cheated? he asks.

No. Never, I say.

And it’s true. I have never ever cheated on any of my boyfriends.

That was an insensitive question. I’m sorry. And I’m mad about what he did to you. It’s unacceptable. Totally unacceptable, he texts back and despite the distance—who knows how big—I wish I could give him a hug.

A second text arrives seconds later. I never cheated on anyone either. And never will.

I read the text, and it gives me pause. I want to write something back, then I stop. It’s like the awkward silence between two people who are face to face. Only we’re not.

And a third text. Number 15.

Hope this doesn’t count as cheating; it’s a tiny tweak to the game. The real number 15 is: ‘Would you ever swim with the sharks?’ Instead, I ask, Would you ever get married?

The moment I press send, I regret it. He’ll think I’m hitting on him. I shouldn’t have done that; I don’t even know where it came from. I guess I just… I just want to figure out if he’s married. Why does it matter? It’s not like… well, the harm’s been done. I can’t recall my text.

I hope I will. One day. When and if I find the right person, he answers a couple of minutes later. Those two minutes felt like two hours.

I don’t know what to write back. I’d like to answer ‘ditto’ but he never asks, so I don’t. Instead, I give him a new number: 31.

What’s your biggest fear?he asks.

How much time do you have?I answer almost instantly.

As much as you do,he replies.

Not achieving my dreams, being forgotten, not being a good person, making mistakes, not being good enough, not being enough, ending up alone. The unknown, I text.

We’re fear-twins, which is funny. I seriously doubt you’ll end up alone and no one can measure your worth but yourself. Don’t compare to others. As for the unknown, nothing worth achieving has been achieved by staying in your comfort zone. You’re taking a step now. Heading into the unknown. Alone, he texts.

Not really alone. Did I thank you yet? I wouldn’t have left the airport if it wasn’t for you.

No need to thank me. I’m sure you would’ve done the same. Number 32.

Would I? The second time I’m asking myself this question in a few short hours, and it’s something that hasn’t crossed my mind before today. Maybe because I knew I wouldn’t like the answer: I wouldn’t have done the same. But I’d like to think that will change.

How would you describe yourself in 3 words, all starting with the same letter?

Moody. Mindful. Maximus.

Good ones. Like Maximus from The Gladiator?

He sends a grinning emoji. Sorry, I meant Maximum. I hate autocorrect.

Actually, I like that. Maximus. It suits you. I pride myself on being good at coming up with names for people. So, since I don’t know your real name, can I call you Max?

Do you want to know my name? he texts, and I swallow nervously.

Do I? I do… Why not? What’s the harm in that? I can’t call him ‘Mr. Driver’. And putting a name to what I already know about him will help me create a better picture of him.

You know what? Max it is. We said no personal stuff, so I want to stay true to our rules. Wouldn’t want to ruin our game, he texts before I get the chance to reply.

Too bad. I really wanted to know. But I guess Max will do. For now.

Next stop is Carmel,I text.

Maybe we’ll continue this later then. If you want to.

I smile from ear to ear. I hoped he’d say that. Where did the last two hours even go?