Two Doors Down

Three

Luigi found himself smiling from ear to ear for the rest of that day, doing exactly what she had told him to do. Her note tucked inside his wallet, he sang as he refilled his cabinet and cleaned out his refrigerator while also thinking of his next move. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this cheerful. His reflection smiled back at him every time he came past a shiny surface, and he couldn't help but laugh at himself for acting like a grade schooler with a crush.

He did his chores in record time that day, giving himself enough leeway to play some games, clear his mind, and think of the best possible course of action.

He came up with a decision late afternoon, and before he could overthink it, tore off a piece of paper from one of his nicer notebooks and scribbled on it.

Dinner?

Luigi, 11A, 09XXXXXXXXX

***

A call came just as Luigi was entering his apartment, back from dinner at his Ninong's place upstairs. His heart jumped, hoping it was her, and he found himself smiling as he answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Luigi of 11A. It's Patricia," said the voice from the other line. Luigi's smile grew wider. "I found an interesting thing in my mailbox today. It had your number on it."

"And?"

"My literal mailbox? Really?" she teased.

Luigi let out a laugh and sat on the massage chair in front of his TV.

"Well, writing that note was me following your lead."

"Maybe slipping it under my door would have been easier?"

"That was a consideration, yes, but I wanted to avoid the very awkward conversation that would follow if you caught me doing so. I also thought standing in front of someone's door uninvited would be inappropriate and creepy."

"And here I thought basic courtesy was dead," Patricia chuckled. He could hear background noise from her end of the line. "I told Avril to give you my number in case you asked, though."

"Considered that too, but that would still make me a creep, and put Avril in an awkward position if you didn't want your contact details known."

"So you decided slipping a note in my mailbox would be the least creepy option?"

"Yes. If you weren't interested, you could just throw it away and consider it spam email. We'll both pretend nothing happened, and you could sleep comfortably at night knowing I wouldn't be outside your door trying to slip you more letters."

"Considerate. You really thought this through, huh?"

"As one should. Didn't want you to be uncomfortable in your own turf, given that I live on the same floor," was his reply. "So, dinner?"

"Good answer, so yes," she said, and he could imagine her smiling from the other line. "Is Sunday ok? I have passes to this digital art exhibit, if you're free that afternoon. I'm happy to meet you at dinner if not."

"I'm free all day. Any restaurant you prefer?"

"There's a buffet near the exhibit. Would you be game?"

"Ah, unlimited dim sum. Count me in!"

"Great. See you on Sunday?"

"You will. Good night, Patricia."