**Ian**

Ian paced the sidewalk in front of Toronto's newest sushi restaurant, Wasaga Wasabi, waiting for Georgette's arrival.

His phone vibrated.

"She's not coming," he whispered to himself. His heart raced. Glancing at his cell, Ian discovered a text message from Mouth.

[[Mouth] Is your drug dealer there yet?]

[[Ian] She's a pharmacist]

[[Mouth] Semantics]

[[Mouth] Found something interesting]

[[Ian] ???]

[[Mouth] check this out when you get back: www.wattpad.com/story/159102292]

[[Ian] What is it?]

[[Mouth] one word...]

[[Mouth] Amanda]

Ian felt a surge of something wonderful pass through his chest at the mention of Amanda's name. His finger hovered over the link.

"Ian," a female voice called.

Stuffing his phone in the back pocket of his jeans, Ian looked up and locked eyes with Georgette. Long strands of dark curls fell from a messy bun, framing her flawless face with a glowing grin. Bundled in the trendiest threads and kicks for the chilly fall season, Georgette greeted Ian with a warm embrace.

"Thank you for meeting for lunch," she said. "My evenings have been insanely busy lately."

For a quick second, Ian wondered if Georgette's evenings were busy due to dating other men more eligible than him. Not that he and Georgette were exclusive or anything, but Ian knew schedules could always be shifted if one had been made a priority. Thankfully, this thought vanished as quickly as it had been formed. Georgette was a lovely body and mind. It was an honor to be penciled in at any point on her daily schedule.

Ian held the door open to the restaurant like a gentleman. "This worked out fine. Lunch is my favorite meal of the day."

Georgette looked up at Ian and smiled. "Perfect." She brushed against his chest as she stepped over the threshold of the restaurant's entryway. The smell of vanilla cream in her hair ignited Ian's primal manliness from within.

She's my 97 percent match, Ian thought to himself. My 97 percent!

A hostess lead Ian and Georgette to a corner table for two next to a window with a view of Lake Ontario. Ian pulled the chair out for Georgette.

"Why--thank you," she said. "I see your mama taught you right."

Ian blushed and sat in a seat directly across from Georgette's. "Sometimes I feel like I'm taking a chance with the chivalry thing nowadays. I went on a date with a woman one time who thought it was an insult to offer her my coat when it started to rain."

Georgette placed her hand on top of Ian's in the middle of the table, a jolt of excitement surged through his body the moment their skin made contact. "Let chivalry weed out the crazy ones." She paused for a moment before adding, "Although--I hate it when a man decides he's going to make my decisions for me--like ordering food at a restaurant. That act of chivalry can just--go away."

"So--it would be best if I let you decide what you want to eat for lunch then?" Ian asked, a subtle playfulness sewn through his words.

Georgette nodded and winked. "Yes. That would be a wise move."

"Choose whatever you want," Ian encouraged, pointing to the menu. "I wouldn't know what to order anyway. I pretty much just eat rice--and Oreos."

Georgette laughed. She appeared to interpret his statement as a joke.

"It's true," he clarified. "I mostly just eat rice and Oreos."

"Are you being serious?"

Ian nodded.

"You need to balance your diet, young man," she lectured, her tone more lighthearted than instructive. "How is your body supposed to get the nutrients it needs if you just eat rice?"

"And Oreos," Ian added. "I also eat Oreos."

Georgette picked up her menu and scanned the lunch specials. "I'm searching for something with vegetables and fish. I might have to order for you. We'll consider it chivalry karma."

Ian chuckled.

Dropping her menu back down on the table with her mouth gaped open, Georgette repeated, "You're serious? You only eat rice?"

Ian held up his hand, a space of about an inch between his thumb and forefinger. "I might have a little bit more than rice and Oreos, but not much more."

"What are we going to do with you, Ian?" Georgette teased. She picked up her glass of ice water and took a sip. "So how has work been?"

"Good," he replied, placing his menu back on the table. "We're currently in a brainstorming phase."

"What are you brainstorming?"

"We've been tossing around ideas about how--and if--fictional stories can make an impact on the world, and what Wattpad's role is for facilitating this impact."

"And what did you and your cohorts conclude?"

Ian sighed and glanced out the window at the view. "We concluded it's complex. Still collecting opinions and data to determine how to move forward with the site. I'd be interested to know what your thoughts are."

"How can fictional stories change the world?"

"Yes."

Ian and Georgette both smiled at a waitress as she approached their table.

"Can I bring you something besides water?" the waitress asked. "Tea? Wine?"

Ian glanced at Georgette and smirked. "The lady is ordering for both of us this afternoon."

Georgette gripped the sides of her menu and looked up at the server. "We're still deciding. Water is perfect for right now, though. Thank you."

The waitress nodded and wandered back to the kitchen.

"Fictional stories," Georgette said, bringing the conversation back to Ian's question. "There was this great quote by Mason Cooley where he said, 'Reading gives us someplace to go when we have to stay where we are.' I think fictional stories can be valuable in that respect--for escapism--or for inspiring our dreams to consider different possibilities for our lives. But as a professional in the health field, I also get concerned when too much escapism is depended upon to get through the day."

Ian's eyes squinted slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Why throw all my effort into escaping my reality when I can redirect that energy into taking small steps to improve it?" Georgette tucked one of her loose curls behind her ear and scanned the menu.

Adjusting himself in his chair to sit up straighter, Ian asked, "Do you consider reading fiction a waste of time then?"

Georgette looked up from the menu. "No--there's value in reading fiction--if done in moderation and with careful consideration."

"Careful consideration?"

Georgette laid the menu on the table and crossed her arms at her wrists, leaning her weight onto her elbows. "If you're filling your head with an abundance of toxicity--the positive benefits of reading are largely erased. I think you have to be mindful of what you're consuming--what you're choosing to focus your attention on--even if your only intention is to use reading as a form of escapism."

The legs of Ian's chair screeched as he scooted closer to the table. "So you're saying fiction can cause as much harm as good?"

"Exactly." Georgette took another sip of her water as though buying herself a moment to prepare her next thought. "If the words we read are glorifying abuse and violence or marginalizing people and cultures--for example--nothing good is going to come from that. Our lives aren't being improved by collecting thoughts of--desiring to be victimized or--desiring to suppress those different than us."

With elbow on the table, Ian rested his chin in the valley between his thumb and forefinger. "Could reading fiction--on a site like Wattpad--have positive effects on people--as seen from a health perspective?"

Georgette shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe--with a lot of chaperoning and babysitting." She chuckled, then added, "I don't envy your position."

Ian's eyebrows dipped slightly in confusion.

"Wattpad's a site for kids, right?" Georgette asked. "Many of whom are looking for the fast track to success and happiness? Date a billionaire. Find self-worth because you were the only one tough enough to fix a bad boy. Turn a blind eye to the obstacles of reality by creating ridiculous situations of coincidence and luck. An adult understands life's fast tracks rarely take you anyplace interesting." She paused for a beat, then laughed. "Well--you might end up somewhere interesting--but nothing stable beyond that fifteen seconds of lust and fame."

Ian rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Thankfully, engineers aren't responsible for the moderating aspects of things." Leaning back in his chair with arm draped across his chest, he added, "And technically, Wattpad is inclusive of all ages and backgrounds."

"But does it represent all ages and backgrounds proportionately?"

"Statistically?" Ian asked. "No."

Georgette shrugged, running her finger along the surface of a chop stick. "Makes sense. Most people want to evolve. It would be difficult for a lot of adults to find any sort of evolution between the pages of a fast-track-to-happiness story. And from what I've read, Wattpad offers predominately stories with teenage and early 20-something protagonists?"

"Statistically? Yes."

Georgette picked up the chop stick between her fingers and tapped it gently against the table. "Teens and early twenties? Been there, done that. Next."

"Do you read fiction?" Ian asked.

Georgette placed the chop stick back on the table and rubbed the dew off the side of her water glass with her thumb. "Rarely. Only when I'm on vacation or indulging in a long, hot bath or something. Otherwise, I tend to read non-fiction--stuff that improves my life in regards to career, personal empowerment or interest areas." Her eyes widened and a smile spread across the width of her face. "Which reminds me--did I tell you?"

Ian hesitated, then shook his head. "Tell me what?"

Georgette tapped her palms soundlessly against the table as though applauding what was about to come. "We just secured the funds to open up another wing at the animal shelter."

Listening for key words as Georgette went on to speak about her new animal shelter project, Ian nodded and uttered sounds of approval at all the phrases that sounded important. New wing. Less pets being euthanized. Importing dogs and cats from overcrowded shelters across the country. Charity events. Financial goals to keep more animals safe. Unfortunately, the bulk of Ian's attention was still on their previous conversation. His mind continued to ponder the negative impact some fictional stories might have on the world.

Morally questionable stories, Ian thought. Do they offer unique perspectives of the world's realities or are they providing some sort of subconscious permission to live without a sense of responsibility?

"A penny for your thoughts?" Georgette asked, snapping Ian out of his distracted thinking. With head tilted to the side and a warm smile on her lips, Georgette's genuine and active presence in the moment disarmed Ian. She seemed genuinely interested in his thoughts and ideas which dismantled his courteous tendencies and opened a direct path to honesty.

"How much chaos do you think fictional stories have created in the world over the years?" The moment the words left his lips, Ian knew his lunch date with Georgette was about to take a turn southward.

Georgette blinked several times, then stared at Ian. "Oh. You're still on the story thing?"

"Sorry." Ian rubbed his face with his palms as though hoping for a clean slate. "I was listening to you. I swear. But when you mentioned earlier that some stories might make a counterproductive impact on the world--I hadn't even--I didn't even think about that until you--."

"May I take your order?" the waitress asked.

Georgette gently scratched the sides of her menu with her fingernails, eyes fixed on the words inside. "I don't think we're quite ready." She looked up at Ian over the top of her menu.

Ian stared at his hands as he fiddled with his fingers. She's your 97 percent, he berated himself from within. You should've been listening to her. She's smart. Gorgeous. Caring. Perfect. She's saving animals. She's a 97 percent! What the hell is wrong with you? You're being an asshole.

Glancing up, Ian's eyes got caught in Georgette's stare. "I'm sorry," he said. "We need a bit more time to figure out what we want." Turning his attention to the waitress he added, "Thank you."

Want to know what was on the other end of the link Mouth sent Ian? You'll find it on Amanda's Wattpad profile: YoDaBestR2D2