On an Edge of Glass

time a patron sweeps past us.
    Ben lowers his head.  H is mouth is just a few inches from my ear.  “Does this look okay to you?”
    I nod, but the truth is that I’m barely paying attention to the specials written in cursive on the menu board.  My stomach is too full of butterflies to be concerned with eating lunch.
    Even though I know that it’s not, today feels like a date.
    I’m fully aware that this whole weekend of visiting Ben’s family in North Carolina is a fluke—a sort roommate-in-crisis bonding experience.  If I hadn’t gotten the rejection letter from Columbia in Thursday’s mail, I’d be deciding what to have for lunch in D.C. right now, and Ben and I would still be barely talking. 
    But I can’t help but revel in the little moments with Ben.  Like the way that the heat of his body melds into mine when we’re standing next to each other.  Or the gentle brush of his fingertips on my wrist when we’re walking next to each other.  I’m all flurry and fluttering heart.  It’s like now that the idea of wanting Ben is back, I can’t contain it.
    We enter the café and are seated a t a small round table.  Beside us is a window that opens out onto the street.  Ben scoots his chair closer to the edge of the table and asks, “So what do you think about Asheville so far?”
    I frown.  “We’ve been downtown for about forty-five minutes, right?”
    “Yeah…” he says slowly, his eyes trained on me.
    “Well,” I say, fussing with my silverware.  “I decided approximately forty- four minutes ago that I’m in love with this city.”
    I know that my statement makes him happy because of the way that he smiles and ducks his head so that his hair covers the flush creeping into his cheeks. 
    The waitress, an attractive woman a few years older than us, with a tattoo of a peacock on her forearm, comes over to take our order.  I try not to bristle when she barely smiles at me, but cranks it up to full wattage for Ben’s sake.  When her large, globe-like breasts skim his shoulder as she points out the soup of the day on the paper menu in his hands, I have to remind myself for the second time in the last five minutes that I’m not on a date with Ben. 
    “J ust holler if you need anything.  I’m Amy,” the waitress hedges as she deposits our drinks on the table.  “Your food will be out shortly.”
    I’m not even going to acknowledge the hungry look that she gives Ben or the way that she waggles her butt in his face when she walks away from our table.  God.  I’m like a rabid dog with my hackles up.  I take a long breath and exhale through my clenched teeth.
    “So… ”  Ben says.  He folds his hands on the table in front of him and points his index fingers up like a steeple. 
    “So…” I mirror.
    Ben chews his lip and considers me.  “Are things between us back to being weird?”
    I purse my lips and crinkle my nose .  “Possibly.”
    He chuckle s. 
    I can’t think of anything to say, so I take a sip of water and look out the window at Asheville.  I really do love it.  It’s small and quirky in an artisanal kind of way.  It’s the type of city that makes you want to grow your hair out, learn how to build hand-carved furniture, and start brewing your own beer. 
    “Do you want to talk about law school?”  Ben asks finally.
    I shake my head and frown.  “Not really.  I applied to a bunch of other places, but I can’t really think about that now.  I’d prefer to talk about something else.”
    “I get that,” Ben says.  So, he tells me more about his brothers, and what it was like for them after his dad died six years ago.  And then he talks about classes and describes the auditions that he has coming up. 
    “Seattle?” 
    “Yeah.  And Monterey and a couple other places in California.”
    “Oh,” I murmur, dropping my eyes to my burger.  It arrived a minute ago.  “That just seems really far away.  I thought that you were going to try for New York, or Boston, or someplace else on the East Coast.”
    Ben doesn’t say anything right away.  “I was planning on New York, but lately I’m not so sure.  I’m starting to feel like I need some distance.”  He looks down.  “The guys in the band say that they’re flexible.  Nick does computer stuff so he can be pretty much anywhere, and Taylor and Connor will probably just look for bartending jobs.  They say that it’s up to me.”
    “And y ou’re going to continue to lead this