The Non-search

Chapter 6

Hearing that Hasani had been on my Instagram had stressed me out for a second. I worried that he might want to know more about what he might have seen there. Like my affiliation with the HSS, the reasons behind the mental health story highlight on my page, or—if he'd scrolled as far as I had during my own stalking of his page—the story behind the huge scar on my stomach. I had no desire to share all of that with anyone who didn't already know, so anxiety started to grow inside of me, but during the quick call with my sister, I decided to stifle that feeling.

I was overthinking things. If I was uncomfortable about answering certain questions, all I had to do was say so.

We picked back up where we'd left off once he told me where he was taking us, a Chinese restaurant in Kisho Valley. I was excited to hear that because I'd been eyeing the place on IG, planning on inviting my sisters to go with me once their currently busy schedules cleared up. Thanks to Hasani, I'd go sooner than expected.

We arrived at the restaurant after a twenty minute drive. It was gorgeous, designed like a Chinese temple with a luscious Chinese garden surrounding it, complete with lanterns, a water feature and stone walkways from one wonder in the garden to another. The inside aesthetic was cute too, with beautiful wallpapers lining the walls, as well as very realistic looking cherry blossom branches in full bloom hanging out of different spots in the walls. I had to fight the urge to be an influencer. I made a mental note to come back alone and get the cute pictures and video clips I was envisioning.

"So... I've got a question." he said after we placed our drink orders and the waiter left the table.

"Ask away," I said, though inside, the nerves from earlier were creeping back into my consciousness.

"Okay. The first time we met, you were standoffish, next day you were kind but very guarded. Fast forward to yesterday, when I invited you out for lunch. I'll be honest, I wasn't too expectant. But, here we are..."

He paused, so I laughed flatly.

"Is that a question?"

"I wanted to word it right." He chuckled, then leaned in a bit over the table we were sharing, his strong, veiny forearms now resting there as he played with the soy sauce dispenser.

"Why are you so wishy washy with me?"

I sighed.

"I'm an overthinker. I take every situation from zero to a hundred really quickly in my head. The first time we met, I overthought myself into believing you were there to win yourself a one night stand with the girl who's off limits. Figured you were trying to feed your ego.

After the encounter though, I went back to my hotel room and thought long and hard about how rude I'd been. I didn't know you to be making such assumptions. But this train of thought irritated me. I wanted to feel justified in brushing you off the way I had. That's when I went to your social media, to find anything that would incriminate you and justify me. But I found the profile of a man who's serious about his education and passionate about his talent. I know there's probably more to you than that, and I shouldn't assume based off a few minutes of scrolling that you're some kind of angel. But the page was enough to let me know you're not 'not worth while'."

"So the trip, and this lunch... it's all guilt?"

"What?! No!" I said as soon as the words left his mouth. "Look. I know what it's like to be in desperate need of help in a sticky situation. When I helped you get to the hospital, that's what was on my mind. You had a need, I had the means. I did what I could to lessen your burden. I'll admit to feeling a bit of shame when I heard it was you I needed to help, but your need outweighed any stupid feelings which I even brought upon myself."