I am once again fidgeting outside Joe's door. My palms keep clamming up and by the time I reach her storey, it's surprising my trousers aren't soaking through with the number of times I wipe my hands on them. Thankfully, Joe don't make me wait for long; I've barely retracted my hand from the bell before her door opens.

Except it's not Joe who greets me, but a woman at least a head taller and draped in shawls. She looks me over, takes in my layered jewellery and the Nicolas fortiflora embroidered shirt I decided to wear as some sort of good luck charm, and hums appreciatively.

'Even better in person,' she says, gravely voice familiar from the phone. 'I'm Jazmine.'

'Right.' During all Joe's stories about Jazmine, I never imagined the sister who more or less saved her from Tamsin several times to be... this. Shayna, but taller and younger and more mystical. I might've exclusively imagined her in some sort of Kill Bill attire but she reminds me more of the theatre teacher from High School Musical. 'Nice to meet you.'

Rather than shake my hand as I intended, Jaz turns it over to inspect my palm. She runs her thumbs along the lines, a curious purr at the back of her throat as she reaches a cut in one of them. Each movement is announced with the clatter of bangles. Her russet eyes climb up to mine, identical to Joe's if not a little more sultry.

Then she drops my hand along with the mysterious act. 'Very soft.'

'I moisturise.'

'Good. So how is your relationship to your masculinity?'

'I said don't be weird.' Jaz is yanked into the apartment and replaced by Joe who immediately shuts the door, effectively caging herself between it and my body. 'I'm so sorry about her. Anyway, hi.'

My response is forgotten as a wisp of breath as I look down at her. Not that I've ever not been floored by the sight of her, but I'm allowed to look now and I am not letting the opportunity pass me by. She's wearing a tie patterned like a painting that I know I've seen but can't name. Something by Monet maybe. It hangs loose in the collar of her shirt; more of a necklace. Her hair is braided into narrow cornrows. And she's holding a rectangular gift wrapped in green paper with magenta hearts on it resembling the colours of a Calathea roseopicta.

'Hiya,' I finally respond. 'You're stunning.'

'I thought you would like it.' She finally lets go of the door handle to trace the seashells on my choker that match the ones in my hair. 'You're very beautiful.'

'Oh...' My insides melt, spine refusing to say upright. 'Thank you.'

I dip to kiss her but Joe pushes me off. 'No kissing on the first date. Besides, we'll be late.'

She don't give me the chance to argue, grabbing my hand to pull me down the corridor before I get the chance to process.

'Where are we going?'

'It's a surprise.'

I huff though a smirk tugging at my mouth as we exit the building. 'Did you show her pictures of me?'

'No.' Joe glances at me, frustration meeting my smugness. 'Maybe a few. Or maybe all of them and also we went through your entire Instagram.'

I open the driver's door, then drop the keys into Joe's waiting palm. She slides into the seat and I round the car for the passenger side, instinctively go to sit only to fall right on the paving stones when the chair's backrest gets in the way. Last person to sit in it were Caleb with Eilidh in the back so of course it's moved as close to the front as possible.

My face is on fire as I adjust the seat before I have the space to climb into it though Joe's excitement trumps the urge to laugh at me.

She hands me the gift. 'I got you this.'

I hesitate to take it but my worries about how I've not got her owt disappear as soon as I tear enough wrapping off to see the logo. 'You got me Legos? I've always wanted Legos!'

'I assumed you'd be in heaven getting to follow all those instructions.'

I don't even respond to her teasing as I rip off the rest of the paper. It's a Lego bouquet. She got me first-date flowers. Just much more lasting ones. My eyes water.

Dropping the mockery, Joe places a hand on my knee. 'You also deserve to be a kid, Nicolás.'

I don't find the words to thank her so I merely look at her. But Joe understands. She kisses my cheek before sliding the driver's seat at least ten centimetres forward.

I take my opportunity when she's distracted adjusting the mirrors. 'Where are we going?'

'Do you know what "surprise" means?'

I drop into my seat, holding the Legos in my lap. I've never had a date that's a surprise. Whenever it's Caleb's turn to plan dates for us, he checks if I'm okay with his idea and I always check for him. Being autistic, he wants to know ahead of time and giving a detailed itinerary is his way of expressing love. And the infinite first dates I've been on couldn't have been surprises because even I have enough survival instinct not to meet a stranger at a "surprise location".

This surprise, though does make me a little anxious, exhilirates me. Especially when rather than turning toward the city, Joe steers us southbound. We don't talk much, neither feeling the need to fill the silence.

I keep admiring the Legos, reading even the small print. I were so jealous as a kid of my peers whose parents could afford to get them Legos and though I've been working for a decade now, it felt silly to buy them as an adult. And somehow Joe knows. Of course, Joe knows. I probably mentioned it as an offhanded anecdote at some point.

Reminder: Joe chose to do this with me. I'm not a nuisance by existing.

Joe guides me through the doors to a Slug & Lettuce. I wonder why we drove all the way to Waterside to go to a pub and why we're going into a pub at two in the afternoon, but once we've stepped in, I see that this is no ordinary bar. Tables are set up around the open space and a cluster of people gather around them—all very usual pub stuff. What's unusual is that the sideboard is covered with different kinds of small plants, cups of dirt, and glass containers.

Someone dressed in a dinosaur-patterned jumper and baggy trousers breaks out of the group to beeline to us. They offer a hand for us to shake. 'I'm Anna. I'll be your instructor today.'

Anna has a name tag pinned to her jumper, along with the pronouns she/her. I introduce myself after Joe, casting Joe a quizzical glance though she only smiles, keeping the surprise locked tightly behind her lips.

'Let me just check you two off the list,' Anna says, grabbing a clipboard from the table nearest the door. 'Josephine Rawlins, plus one. You're the last of us so we're all here now.' Addressing the rest of the group, she says, 'Let's get started. You can all grab yourself a table that appeals to you. I'll do a quick overview first and then we'll get on with it.'

Joe picks us a small table furthest away from the rest. She pulls out a chair and I head for the other one but instead, she gestures for me to sit in the one she's stood behind, so I do, and Joe rounds the table.

'What are we doing?'

She only smiles at me, all her teeth and their glimmering gems on display.

Anna walks over to the "snack" table. 'Hi everyone. Welcome to this workshop for making your own terrariums.'

I turn to Joe who hasn't been watching Anna at all. Rather her gaze is melted onto me. Mine adheres to it. Joe's eyes are too beautiful to look anywhere else.

'When done right, terrariums are tiny self-sustaining ecosystems that can bring wee little gardens into your home without requiring much maintenance. Don't worry—I'll guide you through the process step by step to make sure you all leave with healthy terrariums that'll last years. And that is done with–' Anna picks up a sealed plastic container '–springtails! These are wee little bugs that will eat any mould and keep your biome healthy.'

Once Anna is done explaining, the other participants of the workshop head to collect their glass containers. I remain rooted to my chair.

'Joe...' The tempest in my chest tickles my ribs as much as it squeezes my lungs. 'This is... Thank you. I've never gone on a first date like this before.'

She smiles. 'I thought we could build one together.'

'And if it dies, is that a omen that our relationship is doomed?'

Her face falls. 'No, I didn't mean it–' She cuts herself off to scowl at my grin. 'You're winding me up.'

We collect one of the largest glass containers, tear-shaped. We're just layering leca to the bottom as a drainage layer—"because they're light and porous and therefore my favourite," Anna explains—when a waiter wearing a Slugs & Lettuce apron stops at our side. 'Can I get yous summat to drink or any snacks?'

'Can I have a strawberry daiquiri, please?' I say and he turns to Joe. 'I'll just have a pint of whatever non-alcoholic you think is good.'

There isn't much time to talk beyond the task as we assemble our terrarium. We place a sheet of mesh over the leca, then scoop in the soil at a slope before picking out some dragon stone and the wickedest bit of driftwood. Into a bed of moss, we plant tiny fittonias and Peperomia prostrata. Anna peppers in springtails and, with a misting of water, the terrarium is sealed.

I can't wait to watch it grow.