17
–– Todd ––
"Yes, you’re absolutely right, and I am sorry. Just so you know, I enjoyed it and to a certain extent I think you did too." She remains silent, which I assume means that she liked it, and that she also likes how her ass is still tingling slightly. She squirms in her seat, and that's all the confirmation I need. She's trying to subdue the throbbing, and the wetness that's pooling in her pussy. Well, there goes my dick again. At least it's dark outside so she can't see. "As for what I said in back at The Diner, I really am sorry. It slipped out, and I know it was inappropriate. I screwed up." I rush all the words out, and then immediately replay them to make sure I didn't leave anything out.
"It's been a very awkward first date for both of us. We both learned some things, and I think if we just put this behind us and look toward the next date, things will go much better." Thank God one of us is the voice of reason and has their head on straight. It makes sense that it’s her, since, she's the mastermind behind all of this.
"Thanks for not kicking my ass." I breathe a sigh of relief.
"I still might. Just not tonight." She pauses, and then starts laughing. After another minute I'm laughing with her, and I have no idea what we're even laughing about but it's pretty funny whatever it is. "We suck at first dates, Todd. At least we got that one out of the way." She clears away the tears that snuck out while she was laughing.
We're halfway to my house when I realize that she's going to see where I live. She's going to see how I live. She's going to know where I live. My forehead starts to sweat and I grip the steering wheel tighter. How do I get out of this? Think, Todd, think. Ah fuck it. She's not even a real girlfriend. I decide honesty is the best policy––right now anyway. If I’m lucky, she'll be embarrassed to be seen with me after witnessing the kind of trash I come from, and we can call this whole thing off.
"We're almost to my house," I inform her, interrupting our silence. She nods her head and then yawns. "I just want to warn you that it's not..." Her head is resting on her hand up against the window. She turns to look at me.
"It's not what?"
"Nice. I don't exactly live in a good area or in a big, fancy house. It's a shithole, okay? Al is disgusting. I should have thought of this earlier, but I never wanted to bring you here. I don't bring anyone here. It's embarrassing, but it's also all I have. It’s all I’ve ever had. So, when we get there,, I just want you to get in the driver’s seat and leave, okay?"
She nods sincerely, but seems a little confused. "You don't have to be embarrassed, Todd. Nobody's life or family is perfect. I'm not going to judge you for things you can’t control, like where you live or your social class, especially when there’s so much about your personality I can judge you for. Besides, this is all fake anyway. You don't have to worry about impressing me. I'll dislike you all the same," she jokes trying to lighten the mood.
"Oh, how sweet of you to say," I chuckle. "What's next on this little date agenda?"
"My parents house on Sunday for dinner," she mumbles.
"Dinner with your parents? The day after tomorrow?"
She nods twice and bites the inside of her cheek, letting me know that she's as nervous as I am.
"We've had one date, and it didn't go so great. Now we have to spend our second date with your parents? This can't be happening. We need more time. Tomorrow night. We have to do something tomorrow night. Do you have plans already?"
"No, I don't. What did you have in mind?'
"I heard blow jobs are second dates," I tease.
"Oh, please, Todd! I thought you were being serious!" She shakes her head, and crosses her arms.
"I'm kidding, Amelia. How about a movie? I'll even let you pick it," I offer since I made that cheap joke.
"Okay. Same deal as today? I come get your car at the studio then pick you up after work?" I'm hoping to God she says yes because getting to work without a bike or a car has been horrendous.
"Yeah, sure if it helps you out," she easily answers.
I pull into my gravel driveway, and down a little ways until my dirty, white-shingled little house appears. The shingles have seen better days, with some caked in dirt, some missing chunks, and others dangling, barely holding on. . There is a tin cover for a garage port, and parked under it is a small clunker of a dark gray truck. The lawn hasn't been mowed in who knows how long. The screen door is broken, and through the bent, torn blinds you can see the blue light coming from the TV set. You can almost make out Al's fat ass drinking a beer. Embarrassment doesn't even begin to cover how I feel. I leave the car running and unbuckle my seatbelt, wanting to get this over as quickly as possible without any questions or comments from her.
"Remember, just get behind the wheel and leave, okay?"
"Okay," she agrees even though her expression reads confusion, and even a slight amount of fear. Good. She doesn't really have a reason to be legitimately afraid, but I just don't want her around here––having to see how I live or having to interact with that asshole that I have the unfortunate "honor" of calling a father.
I lean over the dashboard, kiss her cheek and tell her, "I'll see you in the morning." I get out. I don't look back, and I certainly don't stress about the fact that I just kissed her on the cheek like some thirteen-year-old dweeb. It just seemed so normal. I didn't even think about it. It just happened.
18
–– Amelia ––
He kissed me. He kissed me. Why did he kiss me? This is a fake relationship, and that was a fake date. That means that kiss was fake too, right? It was just a cheek kiss anyway. It meant nothing. He was just getting better at the whole boyfriend thing. I mean, that's what most respectable guys do after a date, right? Kiss the girl on the cheek?
But then what was that ass slap?! I cannot believe he did that! The nerve! Part of me wanted to smack him across the face, but a bigger part of me was insanely turned on. And a very different part of me was throbbing until the tingling sensation went away completely. I never thought I'd feel that way from getting my ass slapped. I never thought I'd be into liking that.
Then there was that thing with the waitress, which really pissed me off––and then the whole Justin thing! I hadn't seen Justin in over a year! I could die of embarrassment. I'm sure he could tell Todd and I weren't dating for real. The two of us were practically fighting the entire time. Justin looked so good too. His body has filled out more, and he looks like a man. Maybe not in the rugged sense like Todd, but most twenty two-year-olds don't look like they're actually in their mid-twenties like Todd does.
My mind is still reeling after a night I can hardly believe happened. I have no idea how oursecond date is going to go, and I'm already stressed about Sunday dinner.
At this point all I really know...is that I totally want to see Justin again. I wonder if he's dating anyone...
I reach across my bed to my nightstand, and grab my computer. Facebook stalking in this particular instance is totally acceptable. I mean, I wouldn't want to put the moves on Justin if he was dating someone. That would be embarrassing for both of us. I snort. "Put the moves on Justin" as if I know how to put the moves on anyone.
I type in "Justin Savage," and hit enter. His profile picture pops up, and it's a blurry picture––a close up of his face, and his Dalmatian dog licking his cheek. It's the cutest freaking thing I've ever seen. "Yes!" I squeal, waving my arms up and down. His profile is public so I can stalk him without adding him. Although I guess it wouldn't be weird if I did add him as a friend since we know each other. But maybe I shouldn't do it right away so he doesn't know that I got home after my date and was thinking about him.
"Oh my god, Amelia, you're driving yourself crazy," I tell myself out loud. "Okay..." I click his About Me section and read stuff I mostly already know. His dad is from the Niagara Falls area but his mom is from around here. She's part Puerto Rican and part Native American...from the Burns Paiute Tribe in Hanley County. "Hmm, interesting." I always knew he was half Native American,
but I never knew he was Paiute. "That's super cool," I mumble to myself.
I move my computer further out in front of me so I can lie on my stomach. Relationship status...single! Work is...The Diner on Columbia Avenue, of course.
I get giddy at my decision to start scrolling through his photos. "Calm down, Amelia, you're being completely creepy right now," I remind myself. After a few photos of him with some of his friends––at dinner, paintballing––and some family photos, I notice that the same one girl keeps reappearing. Must be his ex-girlfriend. She's gorgeous. She has curly, dark brown hair, a cute button nose, stunning green eyes, a natural tan, and an incredibly well-endowed chest. I look at the date the photos were posted. May. "May? That was less than two months ago," I murmur. "Hm..." I scroll through a ton more photos, and it looks like Justin and his ex-girlfriend (Courtney Sanchez) started dating the summer after graduation. So, they dated for a year, and then just broke up. I wonder what happened there. I groan and squeeze my eyes shut tightly. It feels like they're bleeding. I roll off my bed to go take my contacts out.
I hate wearing contacts. I really hate taking photos with my glasses on but at the same time I infinitely prefer wearing my glasses to wearing contacts. It's a no-win situation. Speaking of a no-win situation...I have no idea what I'm doing with Todd.
There's a soft knock at my bedroom door. "Yeah?" I move to go answer it, but by the time I walk out of the adjoining bathroom, my mother is already standing in my room. Real nice.
"Sweetheart, I didn't even hear you come in. Why weren't you here for dinner? I was worried." She's wearing a brown skirt that hits a few inches below her knee, with a tan-and-maroon striped knit top. If you looked at what she was wearing, and then looked around at our old wood furniture and dark tan carpet, you'd think stepping into this house had sent you back in time to the 1970s. I can't freaking believe I have to bring Todd here. It’s so embarrassing.
Oh my god. He's going to see my room.
I still have a freaking teddy bear on my bed from when I was seven. I glance around my mauve colored walls, and take in the few remnants I have to destroy before Todd steps foot in here. Namely, a Backstreet Boys poster, my puppy calendar from like two years ago, and a small shelf of Nancy Drew books.
"Well, Amelia? Where were you?"
"Oh, sorry," I reply, snapping back to reality. "I went out to dinner with Todd."
She raises her eyebrows. "It's only your first few days with your new car, and you went out with Todd again? I thought you said you weren't going to see him anymore? I thought you said you two broke up, and he went off to North Dakota or something?" She crosses her arms, and glares at me.
"What? I never said that. I said that he was camping in Montana. I never said we broke up." I look at her like she has two heads. Is that really what she heard? Unbelievable.
"Well, either way, you shouldn't be seeing him, Amelia. He's not good for you. Your father and I don't want you seeing him," she says pointedly. I feel my face flushing and my blood pressure steadily rising in anger every time she opens her mouth.
"He's my boyfriend. I'm not going to stop seeing him, and in fact, he's coming to dinner this weekend," I tell her confidently.
"Ugh, Amelia, you did not ask if you could have company over for Sunday dinner. You need to ask about these things," she huffs.
"What difference does it make? Josh had his stupid girlfriend over last Sunday and nobody said anything about that. You happily set an extra placemat at the table," I counter.
"Don't compare your situation with Todd to Josh's relationship with Monica. It's not the same."
"My situation? My situation is that we’re dating, and he's my boyfriend. He's coming over for Sunday dinners now." I cross my arms, and shoot her an icy glare. She softens, to my dismay. Her arms unfold, and she clasps her hands in front of herself.
"Amelia, sweetheart, boys like that...like Todd...they only want one thing. They're only interested in intercourse, and that's all," she looks at me like she think I'm a silly, pathetic fourteen year old. Still, I turn pink when she says the word "intercourse."
"We are in a relationship. It's not like that. Todd isn't like that," I lie. "Todd treats women really well, and he doesn't sleep around like everyone thinks." More lies. "You should really get to know him before making judgments."
"Oh, Amelia, for goodness sakes," she pleads loudly with her fists on her hips. "Don't be so naive!"
"I'm not being naive!" I shout back.
My father walks down the hallway and yells, "Don't ahgue with ya mutha!"
I sigh. My mom looks at me, and shoots me a smug head nod as if to say, "I told you so," before walking out of my room with her nose pointed in the air. This is going to take a lot longer than I originally thought. I need Todd longer than a few weeks.
"I need you," I blurt out the second I hear the door bells jingle. I don't need to look up from my computer screen to know it's him. This place is, more often than not, a dead zone.
"Most women do," he quickly replies, puffing his chest out. I roll my eyes.
"I'm serious," I say, finally looking at him. I almost grunt like a cavewoman at how hot he looks. He is so out of my league. His hair is still damp from his shower. His shirt is white today, and if I look close enough I can see the contours of his muscles through it. His hands are in the pockets of his leather jacket. His faded jeans are slightly tighter than the dark ones he wore yesterday. They're just tight enough to really see the tone of his athletic thighs. I never knew thighs could be sexy. Once I reach his boots my eyes slowly work their way back up his body, eventually to his grin and glimmering golden eyes. Busted.
"Might want to wipe that drool off your mouth before you tell me why you need me. Or, judging by the look in your eyes I can guess exactly why you need me," he confidently replies.
"Um..." My cheeks flush, and I push up my glasses with my palm even though they haven't moved from their secure place on my nose. All thoughts completely vacate my mind as he strides toward me with that ridiculous, cocky grin on his face. I can't do this. I can't ask him for three more weeks of fake dating. He really doesn't even owe me anything. I sigh. "It's nothing. Never mind."
"Let me guess, you were just about to beg me to take your virginity right here on this counter top," he guesses, leaning over it on his forearms until he’s right next to my face. I back away, intimidated by his sexual intensity.
"No, you perv, it wasn't anything like that. Just forget it." I frown, feeling embarrassed for being caught checking him out...and for being a virgin.
"All right. I don't really want to deal with feelings today anyway." He pushes off from the counter, and puts his hands on his hips. "What are we doing tonight?"
I look up from my computer. "Isn't that your job? To pick dates to take me on?"
"Maybe if I was a regular boyfriend but I’m a fake boyfriend, which means you have to help, too," he reasons.
I close my computer and look up at him. He runs his hand through his light brown hair that has just enough red in it to make it look like gold. His parents deserve a kudos for making such a beautiful specimen.
"Okay, I agree with that," I say, wanting to keep him happy so maybe next week when I ask if we can extend the agreement he'll say yes. "No matter what though, I definitely think we need to go home to change and shower."
He chuckles. "I am definitely with you on that one. Especially since we established what the second date is. I bet you'll be good at it." He gives me an appreciative nod and a fat grin.
"Good at what?" I ask confused. "Are you taking me bowling or something? If so, I'm really not good at it, or at any sports really." I shake my head adamantly warning him not to take me bowling. He laughs and takes a step backwards like he's heading for the door.
"Not bowling, Amelia. Blow jobs. I bet you'll be good at sucking my cock with those pink, bow tie lips, looking up at me with your big brown eyes, with my hands in your hair. You can even keep your glasses on.
"Todd! Oh my go
d, shut up!" I scream with my face as red as a raspberry. I'm disgusted, embarrassed, and extremely turned on. It's all very confusing, and it comes out as anger. I grab my car keys, and throw them at him as hard as I can. "You are a disgusting womanizer, and just for the record, that will never happen!" He's already halfway out the door giving me a peace sign, and a smug grin. I hate him so much.
"Pick you up at seven!" He shouts from outside.
"Six, Todd! Six!"
"Seven it is!" He waves through the storefront window like an idiot, and all I can do is shake my head sternly and purse my lips.
Why must he do that to me? Why do girls like assholes so much? Why on earth did that turn me on? No blow jobs will ever be happening. Todd can't be tamed. I’m sure he's just trying to get a reaction out of me, and shock my poor virgin ears, but I really hope he's not actually expecting anything physical from this agreement. I don't think he'd actually ever put serious moves on me––we just don't get along well enough. Not to mention he's completely out of my league. Todd is a ten, no, more than ten––he's a twelve, and I'm like a solid six or a seven on a good day.
Maybe it's good to see that dirty side of him. It's a reminder that I really do want a nice guy like Justin. Maybe when this whole thing is over I can ask Justin out. Hm...maybe I should start frequenting The Diner, and try to have more than one conversation with him before I start crushing any harder on him.
I sigh, and decide to braid my long hair out of boredom. Where in the hell am I going to take Todd on our "no money" date?
19
–– Todd ––
"I don't understand why you're so adamant about driving," she nags as we're on our way to some destination for our second date.
Wrong Place, Right Time Page 8