“Nina,” he said. Not a question.
It was a blind date set up by his college roommate, Mark. “You’ll love her, Leo. She’s into, like, weird French movies and hates small talk. Just like you.” The only identifier was a copy of Haruki Murakami’s Kafka on the Shore on the table. Her idea. “If I’m not there, hold the book. It’s a signal,” she’d typed over AIM. AIM. The very word felt like a relic. blind dating 2006
Nina tilted her head. Rain beaded on her eyelashes. “You’re not going to wait the mandatory three days?” “Nina,” he said
She smiled. The real one this time. Wide and unguarded. “Tomorrow, then. 11 PM. I’ll bring the book.” Mark. “You’ll love her