Dates are an odd construct when you really dissect them. You walk around the mall or sit at a restaurant and observe the happy, flush faces of the new couples as they learn new tidbits of information about one another. Favorite food. Occupation. Basic family history. They share just enough data to scratch the surface and show hints of the realness underneath but not far enough to expose the raw, bloody truth. That's usually saved.

This was not the case of Harry and Mara. Now, on only their second date, they both had faced some of their most hidden secrets and insecurities and while they may have been ashamed to let others in, there was something in each of them that allowed them to spread their palms and reach deep within the corners of their minds - corners that had remained dimly lit for a number of years - and showcase the inner workings with pride.

Even in the midst of the bright neon of Coney Island and the loud bells and whistles of the arcade games, surrounded by fellow strangers on first, second, tenth dates - Harry and Mara walk the pier, hand in hand, in their own world.

"I'm sorry. I hope this isn't too much," Mara says, feeling the tightening grasp of Harry's hand. She knows he's never left The Mare's Nest in what seems like forever, save a few trips to the hardware or grocery store for supplies. A sensory overload for him, Coney Island was her best attempt to do for Harry what he's done for her. An effort to break him out of his shell and show him more of the world.

"It's fine," he replies with his usual dazzling smile. "It- it- it's perfect."

"What should we do first? We can get some food? Go on a ride? Oh! I know!" She points to a rundown structure in the distance, a flickering light overhead and flashing reds, blues and yellows from inside. Without waiting for a response, Mara leads Harry to the arcade to officially begin their date. "I can't even remember the last time I came here! Have you been here before?"

Harry nods with a suddenly solemn expression. "I have..."

"Is everything okay? Do you want to go?"

"N- no. Um, what do you want to play first?"

"PacMan! Last time I was here, they had the two-player version in the back. C'mon." Still holding his hand, she leads him once again until reaching the machine she so desperately wants to play. Dropping Harry's grasp, she frantically puts quarters in the side. "It's... it's not going in," she comments through gritted teeth, struggling to put in her payment to play. "Can you help? Wait. Shit the screen isn't even on. I was so excited to play I didn't even realize." Mara's excited demeanor is deflated. "Man... well... that's a bummer."

"Maybe I can go get someone to come take a look." Harry starts to walk away when she grabs his bicep to hold him back.

"No! It's totally fine. Just haven't played it in a while is all. I'll survive." Mara grins. "Let's win ourselves a prize. That'll cheer us up, yeah?"

Without hesitation, Harry stalks over to the punching bag game. The man working the booth eyes up his newest contestant and the beautiful girl he assumes is his date. Rows of stuffed animals line the walls, unicorns, giant bears, turtles. The sight makes Mara and Harry alike feel like kids again. That yearning desire to possess one of the toys. Toys that are inevitably near-impossible to win.

"Step right up, big guy," the man taunts. "Here to win the gorgeous lady a prize?" Harry nods, places his money on the counter and slides it toward the worker who continues his teasing and unsuccessful flirting with Mara. "It might be a hard one for a fella your size. You have to hit 400 to 499 to get anything on the bottom row, 500 to 799 for anything on these three middle rows. Hit anything over that and you can have anything you want. But I have to warn you, buddy, no one on my booth has hit over the 500 mark. Just want to make sure I warn you before you embarrass yourself in front of this peach."

Mara's never seen Harry so confident. With a cocky look on his face, Harry rolls up the sleeves of his flannel. He smirks and squares up in front of the machine and with two deep breaths, he swings. The score gets higher and higher, the red numbers flash at the speed of light before finally slowing and landing. The screen blinks "999," tapped out and unable to go into 4-digit numbers.

Mouth ajar, the worker's toothpick drops as he stares at what he hopes isn't a newly broken game.

"What would you like, peach?" Harry turns to Mara, his self-assured look even more apparent.

Much like the man working the booth, she stands shocked at Harry's hidden talent. For a moment, she imagines how the scene with Rob a few days prior would have played out had she let it escalate. "The bear?"

* * *

After an hour or so of playing various games in the arcade, Mara and Harry venture outside to the rides and stand in line for the Cyclone.

"You seem anxious. Are you okay?" Mara looks at Harry, the confidence from the boxing game now lost in the crowd and replaced with nervousness and obvious worry.

"I'm fine. Never really been on one of these is all. I'm sure I'll like it," Harry lies.

Placed in their seats, Mara lowers the bar onto their laps and squeezes Harry's knee to comfort him as the ride begins its ascension to the inaugural drop. "You sure you're okay? You're shaking."

"I'm fine. Absolutely fine. Everything is totally fine," he lies again, his volume a little louder than usual to overcome the clicking sound of the tracks. The cart jerks and comes to a sudden halt. "Holy sh- WHAT WAS THAT?" He's yells his question, grabbing ahold of Mara's thigh to ground himself.

"We're just getting ready to drop. That's all. It'll be okay. These rides are perfectly safe."

"Famous last words." Harry says sarcastically, closing his eyes tight. His closed off concentration is broken by the feeling of Mara's cold fingertips clutching the side of his face. Turning his head toward her, her lips softly press against his and their carts begin their descend. The feel of the fall takes over Harry's stomach. He kisses back harder. His lips are urgent. His hands search for safety at her waist.

She pulls away and smiles sweetly in his shaking eyesight. "ENJOY THE RIDE!"

Mara envelopes his hand with hers and lifts up their arms. Crisp New York air blows through their hair. Mara turns to find Harry, the lights of the ride reflected in his beaming face. A face once filled with fright but now filled with pure joy.

* * *

Mara rummages through her purse for the key to her front door. "I had a really fun time. Thank you for going with me. Um..." She fidgets with her key ring and musters up the courage to ask a question she's been waiting to ask all day. "Did you maybe want to come in? I know it's late and everything but if-"

"I'd love to," Harry eagerly interrupts before Mara talks herself out of the invitation. Like Mara who was patiently waiting to say the question, he had been hoping to hear it.

They enter Mara's drafty apartment. She promptly pours them each a glass of red wine, which Harry, not having much of a pallet for alcohol, slowly sips. But he thoroughly enjoys the color it leaves behind on Mara's lips and thinks to himself how a paint should be named after such a shade.

"I know I said it already but I'm really happy you came with me to Coney Island today. I haven't been since I was little and thought it was the perfect place for our second date." Mara clinks her mason jar of wine against Harry's and continues sipping.

"I'm sorry you didn't have a chance to play PacMan though. I hated seeing how sad that made you. Hopefully this guy cheered you up." Harry grabs the arm of the teddy bear from beside him and makes the stuffed animal wave at Mara.

"He definitely cheered me up. Especially after seeing how he was won." Mara wiggles her eyebrows and blushes at the memory of Harry's flexed forearm crashing through the punching bag. "My grandparents and I went on this road trip cross country when I was little girl. I was probably only like 9 or 10. At every pitstop, my grandpa and I would look for that game and whenever we found it, my grandma would fetch quarters from her change purse. Quarters she kept specifically for me and my grandpa to play that game together. That was the last time I played it... at our last pitstop. I would have played it longer had I known that'd be the last time. I think I miss the memories more than I miss the game, though."

"You haven't told me a lot about your grandparents." Harry chokes down a gulp of wine, wincing as he tries to maintain eye contact with the cabernet-stained angel beside him. He's tired and already buzzed from the half glass he managed to consume.

"My parents didn't get along too well. I guess that's the tame way of putting it at least. I stayed with my grandparents a lot when things got really bad at home. Eventually my dad alienated himself and the rest of us away from extended family though. Didn't get to see my grandpa or my grandma much after that. And what about you? I know you've grown up with Betty and your grandpa but you haven't told me anything about your parents."

"My mum and dad... they died when I was small. A car crash. I had celebrated my 8th birthday with them the night before it happened."

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I'm not even sure what to say. I'm- I-"

"No, no, no. You don't need to apologize. I don't remember much about it now. It was so long ago. Today was special though. It felt like my parents were there a few times in the night." Harry shakes his head nervously. "That sounds weird. I must be drunker than I thought. Sorry. It's just... Coney Island is where my parents' took me for my 8th birthday."

Mara's heart drops. How did she not know? How could he let her take him somewhere so painful? She nearly spits out her wine at the thought of how she practically forced him to relive his tragic past.

"I-" Mara starts to respond.

"Stop. I know you and I can tell you're about to apologize. But I'm telling you, from the bottom of my heart, you have nothing to be sorry for. Tonight was wonderful and I loved getting the chance to relive some of my favorite memories with you. And of course create some new ones." Harry leans in and kisses her quivering lips, slowly stretching his fingers across her soft jawbone.

Somehow the tart flavor of the wine is non-existent. She tastes sweet like the Redvines she ate earlier while at Coney Island. He moves his head back to look at her luminescent, fair skin as she keeps her face comfortably perched in his warm hand.

"Did you want to stay over, Harry?" She asks faintly, eyes still closed.

He sits motionless for a minute before answering with a slow nod.

"Perfect," Mara says with a laugh. "I'm going to freshen up really quick. Get out of these clothes. Maybe we can watch a movie?"

Harry, still shocked by her offer, nods silently again.

Mara walks to her room, slowly and seductively. With the close of the door, her movement turns frantic. She rummages through her underwear drawer to find at least one pair free of holes and makes a mental note to go shopping. Finally finding the winners, she throws off her jeans, falling over as they catch on her ankles. She slips on an oversized flannel - no bra - and flips her hair up and down several times to create the perfect messy, "I-just-threw-this-together," look.

"You're okay, Mara. You're just going to watch a movie and cuddle. Maybe make out a little. You. Got. This." She gives herself the much-needed pep talk before returning to the living room. "Okay! I'm in my jammies! I have some sweats that should fit you too if you'd like. Do you want more wine?" Her voice trails off as she finds Harry, sprawled on the couch, spooning the bear he won her earlier. The sight is so innocent.

"Goodnight, Harry," she cracks a smile. She covers him with a knitted blanket that was resting on the arm of the couch and decides to clean up.

Grabbing their glasses and wine bottle, Mara makes her way to the kitchen when a white piece of paper on the ground by her front door catches her attention. She places her dishes in the sink and grabs the folded note.

She recognizes the handwriting. The scribbled MARA on the outside. The sloppily drawn heart beside her name. How did he get in the building?

She quietly whispers to herself - "Rob."