by J. A. Titus
His bleach-blonde hair was slicked back away from his clean-shaven face, and the suit he wore fit him quite nicely, accentuating his athletic build.
“What’s with the fancy clothes? Are you picking her up when you leave here?” I asked, tugging his arm and pulling him toward my room.
“No,” he said, as I closed my bedroom door and hopped on to my bed. He followed behind me and pulled his pant legs up before sitting down. “Hear me out–”
I laughed at seeing his striped socks. “What? You didn’t have any fancy suit socks, huh?” I interrupted.
He looked down at his socks and smiled. “Maybe I like these socks.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re funny, you know that, right?”
He ignored me and scooted further up my bed. “So, here’s the deal, I’m clueless and I really like this girl. I figure, let’s pretend you’re her.”
The more he referred to “her” the more I wanted to know who “her” was. Not that I was jealous or anything, because I wasn’t.
“So, my idea is, I take you out where I’m going to take her and sort of like … practice,” he finished, looking at me for a response.
What could be the harm in that?
“Seems like a silly idea to me,” I said. “But whatever floats your boat.”
He smiled and pulled me off my bed. “Good! Get changed.”
I groaned, curling my lip in protest. “Why do I have to get dressed up? Isn’t this dressed enough?”
“No. Get dressed,” he commanded in a playful tone. “We’re going out in public. You need to dress better than that.” He pointed to my grey sweats and pink tank top.
“Fine, I’ll get dressed up,” I surrendered.
He gave me a quick shoulder squeeze and opened my bedroom door. “Thank you.”
I waved him away over my shoulder and opened my closet. Sighing, I pulled out a pair of jeans and pink, cotton button-down. This is as fancy as I was going to give, and he’d just have to deal with it.
I got dressed, pulled my long brown hair into a French braid and slipped on my black mules. I liked them the most out of all of my shoes, because they made me two inches taller – and trust me, that’s a lot to a short person.
When I finally opened my door and walked back into the living room, I was a little surprised to see Keith standing there. I narrowed my eyes, looking at him suspiciously. Why isn’t he sitting down?
He stood there, waiting, with a goofy smile plastered across his face. He had his arms behind his back and I felt my jaw drop when he slowly pulled them out, presenting me with a bouquet of the most beautiful, blood red roses I’ve ever seen. They were breathtaking!
“What are those?”
“Well, duh! They’re for you,” he said handing them to me, and stepped back as I stared wide-eyed at them.
“Well, that’s just so sweet but…why?”
He rolled his eyes. “I told you I wanted to practice, didn’t I?”
I felt my cheeks flush. Why was I so embarrassed?
“Well, yeah, but you didn’t have to buy me roses!”
“If I’m going to pull it off right the first time, I’ve got to practice. Right?” He cocked his head to the side and stuck his hands in his jacket pockets.
I nodded. “I guess so, but these things must’ve cost a fortune!”
He shook his finger at me tsking. “That’s not something for you to worry about.”
With a deep breath, I resigned to bringing the beautiful flowers into the kitchen to see if my mother had a vase to set them in. Luckily, she had one out already on the counter.
How convenient.
I filled it with some water, added the flower food packet the flowers came with, and snipped the tough green stalks, before slipping them separately into the tall crystal vase.
Since when is he loaded? These things had to have cost him a ton. What was he thinking? He’s nuts!
When I turned around, Keith was behind me offering me his elbow.
“My lady.” He grinned.
Getting into the spirit of his mission, I slipped my arm through the open space and followed him down the staircase to the front door. He placed my jacket over my shoulders, opened the door, and ushered me out, closing the door behind him.
Seeing my parents’ cars weren’t parked in the driveway, I backed up. “Wait a minute,” I stated, checking my jacket pockets for my keys. Satisfied that I had had them, I continued, “Just make sure the door’s locked.”
He gave the handle a quick jiggle and nodded that it was indeed locked.
He led me to the passenger side of his car. “Your chariot awaits,” he proclaimed, opening the door and guiding me into the black leather bucket seat.
The way he kept talking made me want to burst out laughing. “Please tell me you’re not going to talk to her like that!”
He made an expression that suggested I had hurt his feelings. “What’s wrong with the way I’m talking?”
“You’re all, like, prim and proper. It’s not you, Keith. You’re not Shakespeare.” I giggled, trying to compose myself as he stared at me with a look that said he didn’t appreciate my honesty. I shrugged my shoulders. “Sorry! I just thought you wanted me to be honest and tell you what to do and not to do.”
He carefully shut my door without saying anything, and walked behind the car to his side. I watched him in the rearview mirror, noticing just how cool and calm he seemed to be. I guess this was a good idea for him. Practice with someone he knows and is comfortable with.
I decided I’d be nice and not tease him, no matter how funny I thought he was being.
He opened his door, slid in and shut it, all without looking at me.
Great! Now he’s angry with me.
“I’m sorry, Keith,” I whispered. “I just think you should be yourself. If she can’t like you for who you are, she’s not worth it.”
He adjusted his rearview mirror and continued to avoid my gaze. “Oh, she’s worth it.”
I sighed. “Ok. Whatever you say.”
He backed his car out of my driveway and we drove in silence for a while. The tension was killing me, not to mention the fact I still didn’t know who this girl was. I figured he would’ve told me by now. Curiosity got the best of me and as we took a left onto West Street, I decided to ask.
“So,” I began, trying to sound innocent and without motive, “you still haven’t told me who you finally asked out.”
The left side of Keith’s lip rose slightly, as if he were smiling but trying to hide it.
I raised my eyebrows, questioning. “Well?”
His face softened and he finally began to smile. “I can’t tell you.”
I groaned, “Why not? It’s not like I’ll make fun of you.”
He ignored me and flipped on the radio, ending the conversation with a Drowning Pool song. “Let the bodies hit the floor … let the bodies hit the floor,” the singer growled through the speakers.
Knowing exactly how this song went, I turned the dial and changed the station to my favorite Miranda Lambert song The House that Built Me. Of course there’s a lesson in that for Keith.
He turned his attention to me for a second, a little surprised I had changed the station knowing I actually liked Drowning Pool.
“First lesson,” I stated holding up my index finger. “A true gentleman would allow a girl to change the radio station if she doesn’t like what’s playing.”
He nodded, his eyes still glued to the road. “Check! Let her change the radio station.” Then under his breath he muttered, “Even if the music she picks is awful.”
I laughed. “Right! Even if the music is terrible. If she’s happy, you’ll be happy.” I faced him and smoothed a stray hair away from his face. “Trust me.”
He smiled. “I do trust you. That’s why I asked you to do this with me.”
We continued to drive towards the highway and once again curiosity got the best of me. I tried to be patient, but squirmed in my seat. Where’s he taking us?
> The song You Belong with Me by Taylor Swift came on and, from my peripheral, I caught Keith sneak a peek at me and just as quickly look away.
Looking out the window watching the end of winter’s scenery pass us by, I mouthed the words to the song and kept my eyes trained on the yellow lines painted on the road.
I’m in the room it’s a typical Tuesday night, I’m listening to the kind of music she doesn’t like, and she’ll never know your story like I do.
I pretended like I was strumming a guitar in my arms along with the music and sang a little lower than it played through the speakers, “But she wears short skirts and I wear T-shirts, she’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers, dreaming about the day when you wake up and find…”
“That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time,” Keith sang even louder.
We both broke out into a fit of giggles and sang together at the top of our lungs, “If you could see that I’m the one who understands you, been here all along, so why can’t you see? You, you belong with me, you belong with me.”
When the song was finished and a stupid commercial for some lame insurance company came on, Keith turned off the radio.
“Are you still ok?” he finally asked after a moment of silence. We were still driving on the highway and all of the usual places I would have thought we were going to, had already passed us by.
“Ok about what?”
He looked at me dumbfounded. “Don’t play coy, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Oh…he’s talking about Blake. I felt a slow stab in my chest, where my heart was. It still ached, like a bruise tender to the touch. “I’m fine!” I lied.
He took my hand with his and gave it a quick squeeze. “I