For those who need a catch up, you can read the first part here:
The next morning, my ambivalence is on full display when I see Dieter. He’s quiet when we meet up outside of the kitchen, not meeting my gaze. He looks like he hasn’t slept all night. Me? I’m cool, man. An easy – dare I say, smug? –smile spreads across my face when he nods hello.
“Hey!” I say, a little too bro-y, practically headbutting him.
I’m so cool I even have a cool person laugh that’s just as obnoxious as it literally sounds – a combination of Seth Rogen’s chuckle and Barney Rubble’s giggle. I don’t know where on earth it comes from, but suddenly it’s a thing I’m doing. And I’m still doing it when he motions to follow him to the barn area, into the cinema room where he slept the night before.
Surveying the room, the strewn blankets and pillow, I ask, “So did you sleep here alone last night?” Cool Guy Laugh, Cool Guy Laugh.
“Yes, of course,” he says seriously, then pulls out a small envelope from his pocket. “I wrote this for you.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t read this in front of you,” I say with a wink. Cool Guy Laugh, Cool Guy Laugh. “So do you want my number or something?” Cool Guy Laugh, Cool Guy Laugh.
Who is this person? I’m not entirely thrilled with my appalling shock jock impression at the moment, but I don’t think I can help it. The familiar feeling of panic and anxiety has returned and amazingly enough the Cool Guy Laugh is the only thing that diffuses it.
“Yes, of course,” says Dieter. “I’m a little shy.”
I boldly take his phone and type my number into his contacts. “Don’t be a stranger,” I say. Cool Guy Laugh, Cool Guy Laugh. (Seriously, who is this?!)
Concerned that I might be keeping the bus to the train station waiting, and that this stupid laugh might become permanent if I stay any longer, I turn to leave but Dieter stops me. “A goodbye kiss?” he asks softly.
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