Just letting another human being know that you “see” them is perhaps the most important part of flirting. Nathaniel had taught me that not all flirting is about sex. You flirt, in a way, with friends, family, even a job interviewer; you want them to like you, or you want them to know that you are listening, that you care. I’d learned that I wasn’t very good at letting anyone know I liked them unless I was trying to date them. Learning to flirt in a more broad sense had made me a more pleasant person all around, but then it would have been hard to be less pleasant.

There was silence around the table, and I realized that everyone was looking at me; finally even the waiter looked. I blinked up at him. “I’m sorry, what?”

“What do you want to order?” Micah said.

I had no idea. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what I want.”

The waiter’s eyes flicked back to Nathaniel, then at me, as he said, “I’ll give you a few minutes, then check back.”

I smiled at him encouragingly. He smiled, gave me a brilliant smile that lit his face up. I think it was only because I was sitting close enough to Nathaniel so he could flash that smile at both of us, but I smiled back, and I noticed that he was tanned and his hair was almost black, straight and tucked into a short ponytail, with a long wisp of hair escaping to trace the edge of a triangular face. His eyes were dark, and sparkling with his desire to catch Nathaniel’s attention. He was cute, and that was the problem with this kind of flirting. I couldn’t figure out how to let someone know I “saw” them without really seeing them. I couldn’t pretend to notice someone. I either noticed them, or I didn’t. He smiled flashed that brilliant white smile in his tan and left me to my menu.

“I’m glad we didn’t bet on this one,” Jason said, “I’d have lost.”

Nathaniel looked at him. “You thought he was gay.”

“The way he reacted to you-yes.”

I was studying my menu, trying to remember what I’d wanted. Some kind of salad, I think. Or had it been the pulled pork sandwich? That was always good.