Nervous would be an understatement. The clammy hands fidgeting in Jenna's lap were a telltale of this.

The dating world was something Jenna seldom explored, or even thought of exploring. She was fine with her life as it was. Plus, she figured the erradic schedule she lived by would make making time for someone else too tedious. Always too busy — work this, work that.

But she was getting bored, so she decided to try her hand at it.

So here she sits, in a gloomy café in New York City, dressed up nice, hair done, and her leg bouncing up and down with bristling nerves. She glances down at the watch on her wrist.

Five minutes.

Sitting up straighter, Jenna reaches for her water and takes a sip in an effort to calm herself and regain her stoic and at-ease expression.

Ding, ding.

The bell above the entrance of the café dings and you walk in, looking a little lost, endearingly so, Jenna thinks. When her eyes land on you, her poise slips. Her throat suddenly feels very dry, despite her second glass of water she's just downed.

Shit.