Research On You

Chapter 6 : The First Date That Wasn't A Date

"It’s not a date," I said for the third time.

"It’s not a date," Theodore agreed for the third time.

"So why are we dressed up?" Sera asked from my dorm bed, legs crossed, judging me.

"I’m not dressed up," I said, looking down at my jeans and plain white shirt. "This is normal clothes."

"This is ‘I care but I’m pretending I don’t’ clothes," Sera said. "And his is ‘I woke up like this but spent 20 minutes on my hair’ clothes."

"I did not spend 20 minutes," Theodore said from the hallway. "I spent 5. Tops."

"You’re early," I said, opening the door.

"I’m never late," he said. "For you. For research."

Sera made a gagging noise from the bed. "I’m leaving. You two are disgusting. Have fun on your not-date."

"Bye," Theodore and I said at the exact same time.

Sera left, but not before yelling, "TEXT ME UPDATES"

---

It was Saturday. 2 PM.

Professor Celes had given us an assignment on Friday: "Observe public spaces for coping behavior. Take photos. Write notes. Due Monday. Be creative."

"So," Theodore said as we walked out of the dorm. "Field work."

"Field work," I agreed. "Not a date."

"Definitely not a date," he said. "Dates are in the evening. With dinner. And candles. This is afternoon. With coffee. And sunlight."

"Exactly," I said. "Academic."

We went to the campus garden first.

"Okay," I said, opening my notebook. Pink pen ready. "We need to observe people reading, studying, talking. Note body language. Note what helps them cope."

Theodore sat on the bench next to me. Too close. "Noted, Ms. Color-Coded."

For 30 minutes, we actually worked.

I wrote. He watched people. Every so often he’d point something out.

"That girl," he said. "She’s been rereading the same page for 10 minutes."

"Stress," I said, writing it down.

"That guy," he said. "He’s tapping his foot. Anxiety."

"Good," I said. "Keep going."

Then Eli showed up.

"Hey kids," he said, camera already around his neck. "I heard you were doing field work."

"We are," I said.

"Good," Eli said. "Because I’m documenting it. For the thesis."

He took photos of us taking notes. Of us arguing about a survey question. Of Theodore handing me his water bottle when I coughed.

"This isn’t for the thesis," I said.

"It is now," Eli said, smiling. "This is real data. Real interaction. Professor Celes said be creative."

Theodore bumped my shoulder. "He’s right. This is research."

"Research," I repeated, writing it down to hide my face.

---

At 3:30 PM, we moved to Rel’s Cafe.

"Two coffees?" Rel asked when she saw us.

"One black, no sugar," Theodore said. "One caramel."

"For research," I added quickly.

"For research," Rel repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Right. Sit by the window. Good light for ‘research.’"

We sat by the window.

The cafe was busy. Students studying. Couples talking. Music playing low.

"This is good," Theodore said, looking around. "People here look stressed but also comfortable."

"That’s a good observation," I said, writing it down. "Add that to the notes."

He leaned over to see my notebook. "Your handwriting is pretty."

"Thank you," I said. "Yours is terrible."

"I know," he said. "But you can read it."

"I can," I admitted.

We worked for an hour. Interview questions. Data points.

Then my phone buzzed.

Sera: HOW IS THE NOT-DATE

Me: IT’S NOT A DATE

Sera: SURE

Sera: SEND PIC

Me: No.

Sera: Theo send pic

Theo: No.

Sera: TRAITORS

Theodore laughed. "She’s relentless."

"She is," I said. "Sorry."

"Don’t be," he said. "I like that she cares. About you."

I looked down. "She cares about everyone."

"She cares about you the most," he said. "And Cass."

"And you," I said.

"And me," he agreed. "We’re a package deal now."

We went quiet.

"Can I ask you something?" he said.

"Sure."

"Why did you get so mad about Bianca?"

I almost choked on my coffee. "I wasn’t mad."

"You were," he said. "And it was cute."

"It was NOT cute," I said. "And I don’t want to talk about it."

"Okay," he said. "Then I’ll talk. I liked that you got mad. Because it meant you cared."

I looked down at my coffee. "I did care."

"I know," he said. "And I care too."

The cafe got louder around us. But it felt quiet.

"So," I said. "Back to work?"

"Back to work," he agreed.

But neither of us opened our laptops.

---

At 5 PM, we decided to walk around campus.

"For more observations," Theodore said.

"For more observations," I agreed.

The sun was starting to set. The sky was orange and pink and gold.

"It’s pretty," I said.

"It is," he said. "You’re pretty."

I stopped walking. "Did you just—"

"What?" he asked, innocent. "Say the sky is pretty? It is."

"You said I was pretty."

"Did I?" he asked. "Must be the sunset. Makes everyone look good."

"Liar."

"Maybe," he said. "But I’m your liar."

We started walking again.

At the fountain, we stopped.

"Can we sit?" he asked.

"For research," I said.

"For research," he agreed.

We sat on the edge. Our shoulders brushed.

"So," he said. "What have we learned today?"

"That people cope by being around others," I said. "Even if they’re not talking."

"And that coffee helps," he added.

"And that sunsets are nice," I said.

"And that research partners are... nice," he said.

I looked at him. "Research partners?"

"Research spouses," he corrected. "Better title."

I rolled my eyes. "You’re impossible."

"I’m consistent," he said.

We sat there until the sky turned dark.

---

At 6:30 PM, Eli texted the group chat.

Eli: PHOTO DUMP. CHECK IT.

Eli: Link: [thesis_documentation_april]

We opened it.

Photo 1: Me writing in the garden. Serious face.

Photo 2: Theodore pointing at something, laughing.

Photo 3: Both of us leaning over my notebook. Heads close.

Photo 4: Me drinking from his water bottle.

Photo 5: Us at the fountain at sunset.

Sera: OH MY GOD

Sera: YOU TWO LOOK LIKE A COUPLE

Cass: ...

Rel: My kids

Theo: It’s research.

Me: It’s research.

Sera: SURE

Theodore looked at me. "We do look... professional."

"Very professional," I said.

"Very research-like," he said.

"Very," I agreed.

We didn’t delete the photos.

---

At 7 PM, we were walking back to the dorms.

"You hungry?" he asked.

"A little," I said.

"Good," he said. "Because I’m starving. And I know a place."

He took me to a small ramen shop off campus. Nothing fancy. Just warm and bright.

"Best ramen," he said. "Trust me."

We ordered two bowls.

"You didn’t have to," I said.

"I wanted to," he said. "Celebrate finishing field work."

"It’s not done," I said. "We still have to write it."

"We will," he said. "But tonight we celebrate progress."

The ramen came. Hot. Steaming.

"Blow on it," he said. "Before you burn your tongue."

"I know how to eat ramen," I said.

"Do you?" he asked. "Because you looked like you were going to inhale it."

"I was not."

"You were," he said, grinning. "You get like that when you’re hungry. And tired. And stressed."

"Do you have a list?" I asked.

"I might," he said. "I pay attention."

We ate. We talked. About the thesis. About classes. About stupid things.

At one point, he reached across the table and wiped something off my cheek.

"Sauce," he said.

"Thanks," I said. My face was hot.

"Anytime," he said.

---

At 8:30 PM, he walked me back.

The campus was quiet. Streetlights on.

"So," he said. "Good field work?"

"Good field work," I said.

"Good not-date?" he asked.

"There was no date," I said.

"Right," he said. "No date. Just... hanging out. For research."

"For research," I agreed.

We stopped at the gate to my dorm.

"Thanks," I said. "For today."

"Thanks," he said. "For letting me tag along."

"I didn’t let you," I said. "You invited yourself."

"Even better," he said. "I like inviting myself."

He was standing close. Close enough that I could see the gold in his eyes.

"Get some sleep," he said.

"You too," I said.

He turned to leave, then stopped. "Hey, Reyes?"

"Yeah?"

"Next Saturday? More field work?"

I smiled. "For research?"

"For research," he said. "And maybe... dinner after?"

"That sounds like a date," I said.

"It does," he said. "Which is why it’s not a date. It’s dinner. After research."

"Fine," I said. "Dinner. After research."

"Great," he said. "It’s a plan. A non-date plan."

"Non-date plan," I repeated.

He waved and walked away.

---

Back in my room, Sera was waiting.

"DETAILS," she demanded.

"Nothing happened," I said.

"Nothing?" she asked.

"We did field work," I said. "And ate ramen."

"And?"

"And he said I was pretty," I admitted.

Sera screamed into a pillow.

"Keep your voice down," I said.

"I CAN’T," she said. "THIS IS PROGRESS"

"It’s not," I said. "It’s research."

"Sure," Sera said. "Research."

---

Sunday night. 10 PM.

My phone buzzed.

Theo: Hey.

Me: Hey.

Theo: Just sending you the notes from today.

Theo: Attached.

Theo: Also, the ramen place was good, right?

Me: It was good.

Theo: Good. I’ll take you again.

Me: For research?

Theo: For research.

Theo: And maybe because I like spending time with you.

Me: Oh.

Theo: Oh.

Theo: Good night, research spouse.

Me: Good night, Theo.

I stared at the last message for a long time.

Monday. 9 PM. Library.

He was there. Early. Two coffees.

"Took you long enough," he said.

"You’re early," I said.

"I told you I would be," he said. "For you. For research."

We sat down.

"Partners?" he asked.

"Partners," I said.

And we got to work.

But this time, when our shoulders brushed, neither of us moved away.

END OF CHAPTER 6