I couldn't believe I said yes.

I said yes to having dinner with a stranger, someone I literally just met on the street, tonight. Tonight! That didn't give me any time to do any of the normal first date stuff. Not that I'd been on a first date in, well, a long time. I couldn't fret over my outfit, fix my hair and makeup, blab about it with Val...nothing. Hell, I couldn't even Google stalk him. I was wearing my work clothes from Starbucks, and I'd nearly worn mismatched shoes today. I was definitely not ready to have dinner with him.

What did I get myself into? I don't do dating.

I walked through Central Park in somewhat of a haze - more than my usual haze, that is - and I didn't even realize that I had walked right past the Naumburg Bandshell. All I could think about was the handsome guy who asked me out and whether or not I was going to get murdered later tonight.

Okay, sure, I have an overactive imagination.

His name was Andrew, I knew that much, and he was off to some charity benefit thingie for the next two hours. I was supposed to meet him at BarBacon (a bacon-themed gastropub, if that's not obvious) at eight thirty, which gave me over an hour and a half to enjoy the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra before heading that direction.

After circling back to the bandshell, I made my way to a seat and took off my headphones so I could enjoy the music. I'd never been the type of girl who obsessed over some guy, especially some guy she just met, so I let my mind wander as I closed my eyes and listened to the music.

He's really cute.

I opened my eyes, taking a deep breath, and stared up at the sky. He was cute. He was more than cute...and he wanted to buy me dinner. I haven't been on any dates since I moved to New York, except for one awful blind date Val forced me on because the guy she was seeing at the time wanted to double, and truthfully it wasn't high on my priority list. I didn't want a boyfriend, not when I was focused on working my ass off at Starbucks and getting into CUNY next year so I could study computational mathematics.

Did I mention that I really like math?

You'd think with my love of music I'd be a musician or something, but - in reality - I can't play a single instrument. I taught myself a few songs on the piano, but I sounded like a six-year-old with a sugar buzz. My hands just didn't cooperate with my brain, and I don't really blame them.

Nope, math was my calling, and I couldn't wait to dig back into my studies. See, computational mathematics involves mathematical research in subjects where computing plays a central and essential role. Think algorithms, numerical methods, and symbolic computations. There's a big emphasis on using the computer to help solve mathematically modeled physical problems, which is part of the reason I loved it. I wanted to use math to help solve problems - big ones - and a life as an accountant just wasn't going to cut it for me.

Eventually, I wanted to get my Ph.D. from Stanford University's Institute for Computational & Mathematical Engineering. From there, I could focus my studies on mathematical modeling for public health policy, and eventually I could find work at a think tank or something. Basically, I wanted to use math and quantitative research to understand the consequences of policies to combat major infectious diseases, then I wanted to help design effective disease control programs when resources are limited.

In layman's terms, I want to use math to identify the best (and worst) ways to help people in need with minimal resources. Think maximum positive impact.

Dating didn't really fit into any of my equations. Not anymore.

Still, there was something about Andrew. He made me laugh, and he was...familiar? Call me crazy, but I felt like I knew him somehow.

After the concert ended, I tucked my hands into my pockets and headed toward the restaurant Andrew told me about. It was about a mile and a half away from me, not a terrible walk, but at night in early May the city was getting pretty chilly. Tonight was abnormally cold, dropping to 50 degrees Fahrenheit, and I was a Texas girl through and through. Goosebumps already covered my bare arms, and I picked up the pace as I walked through the streets to the restaurant.

It ended up being more of a pub than a restaurant, but luckily I was able to get in without a problem. I wasn't twenty-one, but Val insisted I get a fake ID when I arrived in the city. It wasn't that I drank a lot - honestly, I didn't care either way. I liked some beers and wines, but I could do without too. Val, however, was three years older than me and a huge fan of dancing, so she lugged me out to nightclubs all the time to be her DD. Since neither of us had a car, this meant my job was to 'steer' her away from the creepy guys and 'drive' aka drag her home in one piece. It wasn't my favorite thing in the world, but I was more than willing to help my friend get her groove on safely. Plus, I liked being able to get into bars without any hassle. Even if I rarely drink, the food is almost always better.

I could definitely tell that this bar was going to be one of those places. It smelled great inside, the scent of bacon making my mouth water from my first step through the door. With a U-shaped bar and brick walls, the inside of the bar was dark and cozy, the right mix of trendy and accessible that didn't make me feel too out of place in my work clothes. The interior was pretty packed, for a Monday, so I scanned the room carefully for Andrew.

He was fairly tall, several inches higher than my own 5'8", and his dark brown hair with light blue-green eyes made him very distinctive. I wasn't sure if I should be looking for a man in a suit or not, but after a few sweeps of the room I couldn't spot him. A glance at my phone told me that I was a few minutes early, so I headed to the bar to wait for him.

The bartender smiled when I sat down, bringing me a glass of water, and I passed on ordering anything else since I was waiting for someone. Pulling out my phone, I shot Val a text to let her know I wasn't getting home anytime soon.

FYI, I'm gonna be home late, I told her, rolling my eyes as I saw the three little dots pop up immediately. Of course she's responding instantly.

You ok? She replied.

I tapped my response, I wouldn't text you if I was kidnapped, Val.

You don't know that!! She replied, adding a few of her favorite distressed emojis.

Grinning, I shot back, Love you, conejita!

Val responded with a kissy face, so I clicked the button to lock my screen and placed my phone facedown on the bar. The door opened, the sounds of the city creeping in through the open door, and I turned my head expectantly only to be met with disappointment as a married couple walked into the bar. They greeted the waitress, who directed them to the only empty table in the place, and I sighed. Still nothing.

It was supremely rare that I was on time, given my history and habits, and I had to say...I didn't enjoy it. The nice thing about being late constantly was that you're never left waiting for anyone, and I was rapidly discovering that patience was not my forte. I didn't really have any room to get angry or frustrated, so I let out a sigh and took a drink of my water instead.

Thirty minutes later, however, I decided that my anger and frustration was teensy bit justified. The bartender kept topping off my water, giving me a remorseful look every time I thanked him and apologized for taking up bar space, and my lack of dinner wasn't helping.

Being hangry is a thing, after all, and by this time I was frickin hungry-furious.

I've never been stood up by a guy before, and I didn't think Andrew was the type of guy who would do that. True, I didn't really know him, but why would he go through the trouble of inviting me to dinner earlier this evening if he wasn't going to follow through with it? Did he think it was funny to make some girl wait for him? Was that something people did? Or did he walk by the restaurant, see me through the window, and realize that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with me?

Biting back a slew of curse words, I smiled at the bartender and reached into my pocket to leave him a tip...only to remember that I didn't have any more cash. Since I hadn't purchased anything, I didn't want to ask him to run my debit card just so I could tip him, which made me even worse. As if on cue, he came over and when I opened my mouth to speak he sat a pint of beer in front of me.

"What's this?" I asked him. "I didn't order this."

"Compliments of the gentleman in the green shirt on the other side of the bar," the bartender explained.

Glancing up, I saw the man who bought the beer smiling at me, lifting his drink in acknowledgement, and I flushed pink. I gave him an awkward smile before hunching down in front of the bartender, trying and failing to hide myself with the bartender's body, and groaned.

"I can't accept this," I told the bartender, sliding it away.

He laughed, "Why not? You've been drinking water all night."

"I know, it's just...I'm meeting someone, I don't know that guy, I'm a lightweight, and--"

"Is the guy you're meeting on his way?" The bartender interrupted. "Have you heard from him?"

I shook my head. Andrew never gave me his number, and he never asked for mine. If he didn't show tonight, I'd probably never see him again, which - at that point - was a great thing considering how humiliated I was.

"Then you probably need this," the bartender said, pushing the beer back toward me.

Taking a deep breath, I nodded and picked up the beer. The guy in the green shirt's face lit up, elated that I was accepting his beer, and I lifted it in the air before taking a drink.

"I definitely need this," I whispered to myself, gulping down the amber-colored liquid.