Free The World: According to Rachael by Layne Harper Page A

it felt this natural and unforced.
    We spend the rest of lunch discussing nothing in particular. I talk about inconsequential things with him like silly stuff that happened at work, and it’s so refreshing that I can actually come up with mindless conversation when I didn’t think it was possible. Graham decides that we should skip dessert and the movie, and go enjoy an unseasonably warm day outside. I don’t care. I’m not ready to go back to normal life yet because I’m enjoying how this feels way too much.
    As we exit the restaurant, both of us slip on aviator sunglasses. They’re the same pair of Ray-Bans. His are the male version, and mine the female. “We have on the same style of glasses,” I note.
    He stops and turns so he’s looking directly at me. I feel him probing me with his eyes, and my natural instinct is to deflect—look away, make a joke, change the subject, keep walking, anything to protect myself from being examined. After a couple of heartbeats, he leans down and places a sweet kiss on the tip of my nose. “Excellent taste, Miss Early.”
    My breath catches in my chest. It was a peck. No more than the way a mom kisses her son, or an uncle kisses his niece, but I felt his lips caress the twin bumps at the end of my nose, and I tingled with excitement.
    We’ve begun to walk, but for the life of me, I can’t remember giving my legs permission to move forward. He offers me his elbow, and I lace my arm through it, enjoying the touch of my hand on his solid forearm.
    Lou follows at a safe but respectful distance behind us, as Graham and I walk to a lovely park near the Smithsonian. I told Graham a bit about Lou last night when he asked me out. He’s been such a fixture in my life for the last seven years that I can pretend that he isn’t around.
    “Don’t look now,” Graham says doing an exaggerated head turn over both shoulders. “We’re being followed.”
    It’s such a cheesy joke, but I laugh like it’s the funniest thing that I’ve heard. “Ignore Lou.” I gasp between giggles. “I do.”
    We start discussing the crazy warm weather that has blessed D.C., and we contemplate what this means for our winter. We keep a casual banter going that turns into us playfully arguing over whether boxing or MMA is a superior sport.
    Finally, I feel like this is a conversation that I’m equipped to have. I defend boxing and he makes thoughtful counterpoints on why MMA is better. Even though he’s clearly wrong, I enjoy having a nice debate. I like that he’s very intelligent, knows how to formulate an argument, and doesn’t resort to silliness like “just because” or “so what.”
    We agree to disagree. Graham changes the subject to his students, and shares with me a story about one of the essay responses on a test he recently gave. I find myself noting just how average this feels.
    Average is not something I’ve ever strived for, but there’s something to be said about spending a Sunday actually relaxing. Since Aiden and I ended our relationship, I haven’t felt average or normal or any other adjective that fits. We broke up, and I threw every bit of myself into the campaign. It dawns on me that I created this new normal for me, and it’s a normal that is not necessarily good.
    “So I call the kid into my office and have him retake the test,” Graham continues as we stroll down the sidewalk. He pauses because I’ve fallen behind. “Rachael, are you listening?”
    “Yes, yes, of course, I’m listening. You had the student retake the test …” I prompt as I narrow the gap between us.
    “Never mind,” he says as we enter through the wrought-iron gated entrance. It seems that everyone in D.C. had the same idea that we did—enjoy this gorgeous weather. There’s a large group playing Frisbee. Couples and families are picnicking. There are so many blankets spread on the thick carpet of grass that some of them are touching.
    “Looks like great minds think alike,” I state as