The Dating Debate

by Chris Cannon

  He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s a loaded question. Any answer I give will tick you off. Let’s forget about it. Okay?”

  A cold rush of self-doubt filled my stomach, making me nauseous. We’d been having fun until I implied we were in a real relationship. We were in a relationship, weren’t we? “West, this is important. I need to know I’m not just convenient.”

  “What are you talking about?” Now he sounded frustrated.

  This was not how I wanted to spend my morning. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. How could I say what I wanted to say without sounding needy? I didn’t want to sound needy.

  I heard the car door open and shut and then the sound of footsteps moving across the gravel lot. Had he ditched me again? Seriously?

  My car door swung open. West stood there holding out his hand. “Come here.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m trying to fix this, and you’re making it difficult. Get out of the damn car.”

  A smooth talker he was not. Still, I was curious about what he would say. I unbuckled my seat belt and grabbed my bag before taking his hand.

  He pulled me from the car. “I’m pretty sure this whole boyfriend-girlfriend relationship thing, which apparently I’m bad at, is like window shopping.” He pointed at our joined hands. “We hold hands and walk through the parking lot, which shows anyone in the immediate vicinity, including you, that you’re not convenient.”

  “Thank you for clearing that up.”

  “I’d never call you convenient…you’re actually more of a pain in the ass.”

  “Ha. Ha.” I poked him in the chest.

  “You know I’m mostly kidding.” He leaned in and kissed me. When he pulled away, he said, “From now on, I’d like advance notice before you use scary words. That way, we can avoid my momentary freak-outs and your meltdowns.”

  “I can’t think of any other scary relationship words that might come up in the near future,” I said. “But if I do, I’ll let you know.”

  “Okay. Let’s rewind this conversation back to the part where we’re going to the show and I’m being emotionally blackmailed into buying you fancy chocolate.”

  “That totally works for me.” Crisis averted.

  “Of course it does. Let’s go.”

  We walked across the parking lot holding hands, and people did seem to notice. I smiled at anyone who checked us out.

  For the rest of the week, I did my best not to be overly sensitive to anything West said, because I was beginning to learn that while males and females shared the same language, the things they said didn’t always mean the same thing.

  Plus, he liked me and was making an effort to avoid things that would freak me out, so I decided to do the same. Friday morning, when I climbed into the car there was a giant, red, heart-shaped box of candy taking up most of my seat.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day.” West gestured at the giant heart box as if I might miss it.

  “Thank you.” It might be corny, and the presentation wasn’t awesome, but my heart still skipped a beat. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too.” I picked up the box, climbed in, and leaned over to kiss him.

  When the kiss ended, I said, “I have something for you.” I pulled the card I’d bought him from my backpack. He opened the red envelope and laughed at the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle card inside and smiled when he opened it and saw the Amazon gift card.

  “I almost bought you a gift card to the bookstore, but I knew you preferred ebooks.”

  “Thank you.”

  On the drive to school, I ate two caramel-filled chocolates. “Do you want one?”

  “No thanks.”

  I closed the lid of the heart-shaped box. Too bad it wouldn’t fit in my locker. Then I’d be able to stop for chocolate breaks between classes.

  When we pulled into the school parking lot, I laughed. Red and pink balloons were tied to several cars’ windshield wipers. One car was covered in hot pink hearts that looked like they were made with silly string.

  “Why?” West said, as he gestured at the oddly decorated cars.

  “I’m not sure. You’d think people would put the balloons on their boyfriends’ or girlfriends’ car when it was in their driveway because the person receiving the balloons won’t see them until after school.”

  “I’m glad you liked the chocolates, but holidays are still stupid,” West said.

  “Agreed.” We walked through the parking lot holding hands. No one seemed to pay much attention because we weren’t a brand-new couple anymore. I kissed him good-bye at his locker and went on to my locker to meet Lisa. She did not look like a happy camper.

  “Good morning,” I said. “If you need to vent about the stupidity of the holiday, I’m here to listen.”

  She frowned. “I’m glad things worked out for you and West, but it sucks being the odd man out. I might feel better if there was anyone I even liked, but the only guy I’m interested in has friend-zoned me.”

  “You mean Matt?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I said hi to him this morning, and he looked like he wanted to bolt, like I was going to throw myself at him because it was Valentine’s Day.”

  “Sorry.”

  A girl down the hall squealed about something—probably cheap flowers or some other Valentine’s gift. “That’s happened twice since I’ve been here,” she said. “And it’s freaking annoying.”

  “One of my goals in life,” I said, “is to never make that girly, high-pitched squealing noise.”

  “Agreed,” Lisa said. “It’s undignified.”

  Apparently, the rest of the female population of Greenbrier High didn’t feel that way because random outbursts happened throughout the day. If I didn’t have West, I would’ve been more annoyed. This was my first successful Valentine’s Day so far in life.

  …

  After the drive home from school, West said, “So what movie did you want to see?”

  He pulled up the movie times on his cell. “Your choices are a spy thriller or a buddy comedy.”

  “There are ten movies showing. And I’m pretty sure they have titles.”

  He grinned. “I said I’d take you to the movies. I didn’t say I planned on watching the show.”

  I laughed. “We’re watching some of it.” I snatched the phone from his hand and scrolled down the choices. “Comedy at seven forty-five works for me.” I handed back his phone.

  Several hours later, I was using a sticky tape roller to remove Gidget fur from my black sweater. I checked the results in the mirror. Random pieces of fur still stuck out at odd angles. I tried the roller again and then gave up. I loved Gidget, but from now on maybe I should buy only cream-colored clothes.

  I went downstairs and saw my mom frowning at a heart-shaped vase full of yellow daisies. There was only one person who would have sent her those—my dad.

  “So…those are a surprise,” I said.

  “Yes. They are. I’m caught between wanting to throw them in the trash and not wanting to waste pretty flowers just because an idiot sent them to me.”

  “My vote would be to put them down the garbage disposal one at a time.”

  My mom gave a bitter laugh. “I don’t understand what he thinks he’s doing. There’s not a chance in hell I will ever forgive him. He has to know that.”

  There was a small card attached to the vase. “What does the card say?”

  “Some crap about how I’m his one true love.” My mom’s voice broke. She sniffled. “Ugh…I hate that he can still make me so mad I cry.”

  I told her about West’s toxic skunk theory, which made her laugh.

  “I knew I liked that boy.” She sighed and then grabbed the vase. “Would you get the front door for me?”

  “Sure.” What was she planning on doing?

  First she dumped the water from the vase, and then she walked out onto the front porch and swung the vase like a pail of water, launching the daisies across the lawn.

  “If I know your father, h
e’s planning on driving by to see if he can talk to me. This should send him a pretty clear signal that he should keep on driving.”

  West approached in my peripheral vision. “Should I ask?”

  “Toxic skunk flowers,” my mom said. “Have a fun night.” And then she turned back around and went into the house.

  “Okay then,” West said. “Time for our anti-Valentine’s Day movie.”

  It turned out that the movie wasn’t very good. Not that we watched a lot of it. West kept distracting me…in a good way. We kissed our way through most of the movie and once the lights came up, my brain was fairly scrambled.

  The cool evening air helped restore my faculties as we walked to the car. “Where to now?” I asked.

  “We have two choices. Matt and Charlie are having a bonfire, or we can hang out at your place.”

  “I’m not in the mood to be around a bunch of people.” I was pretty sure he was thinking about sneaking out to the shed so we could be alone, but I wasn’t about to suggest that.

  When we pulled into the driveway, he said, “Did I mention that I restocked the shed with s’mores Pop-Tarts?”

  “I’ve never tried that flavor.” And that was the truth, but it wasn’t the Pop-Tarts I was really interested in.

  We snuck back to the shed, and I laughed when I saw what West had done. There was a box of s’mores Pop-Tarts on top of the mini-fridge and another much smaller heart-shaped box of chocolates on the love seat.

  “Very nice,” I said.

  He smiled. “I might be getting the hang of this whole boyfriend thing.”

  I pretended to be shocked, placing my hand over my heart. “You said the B word.”

  “I did.” He pulled me close. “And you should probably distract me before I freak out.”

  I played with the hair at the nape of his neck and smiled up at him. “I can do that.”

  A tiny voice in my brain whispered that this was too good to be true. I ignored that annoying voice in favor of kissing West.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  West

  Saturday morning, my dad made French toast, which was my mom’s favorite breakfast. He hummed as he cooked, and I did my best not to think about why he seemed so happy this morning. There are some places your mind shouldn’t go.

  I opted for grabbing a packet of Pop-Tarts and heading back to my room to read a book because that made living in denial a little easier.

  I’d been reading for about an hour when a text from Nina popped up on my cell. Are you busy? My mom cooks when she’s annoyed. We have enough hash brown casserole and banana bread to feed the entire block.

  Sounded good to me. The Pop-Tarts I’d eaten were long gone. I texted back that I’d be right over.

  Nina greeted me at the front door with a smile and a quick kiss. She whispered, “Don’t mention Valentine’s Day, or my dad.”

  I nodded to show I understood.

  Gidget trotted over and looked at me expectantly. I reached down to pet her head. She leaned into me and dog fur drifted through the air. “This can’t be normal.”

  “It’s normal for her,” Nina said. “Watch this. Gidget, do you want hash browns?”

  The dog proceeded to stamp her front feet, dancing around like a toddler on Red Bull.

  “Again,” I pointed at Gidget. “Not normal.”

  Nina laughed. I followed her into the kitchen. “Help yourself,” Nina said. “While I take care of my furry beast.”

  Jason was already seated at the table. He nodded at me and then went back to shoveling food into his mouth. The savory scent of cheese and bacon made my mouth water. I grabbed a plate and scooped out a large helping of what looked like hash browns mixed with eggs, cheese, and bacon. That couldn’t be bad.

  Nina dropped a small glob of hash browns in Gidget’s bowl. The dog wolfed it down in five seconds and then came to stare at me with the intensity of the sun as I took every bite. “Is that really necessary?” I asked Gidget. Her tail swooped back and forth.

  “She’s already had some of mine and some of Nina’s,” Jason said. “So you’re the next logical target.”

  “Can’t blame her,” I said. “These are amazing.”

  “Thank you,” Nina’s mom said from the stove where she stirred something in a pan.

  I ate two helpings and then leaned back in my seat. “I need a nap.”

  Jason yawned. “I believe that’s next on my agenda.” He put his plate in the sink and then headed toward the stairs.

  Nina grabbed our plates and put them both in the sink. “Let’s go sit on the couch and try not to fall asleep.”

  “Okay.”

  Nina turned the television on and then whispered, “Apparently, my dad didn’t interpret the flowers strewn across the front yard correctly. He thought it meant please come to the door and plead your sorry-ass case. My mom refused to even open the door because he might’ve thought that meant he was welcome to come inside, which he totally is not.”

  “Not to be rude, but is he stupid or delusional?” I asked. “Because I can’t think of a person alive who’d forgive that kind of betrayal.”

  “You have no idea how relieved I am that you understand.”

  We watched television for a while as her mom banged pots and pans around in the kitchen. After yawning for the third time, I said. “That’s it. We’re going for a walk or something because if we keep sitting here I’m going to fall into a carbohydrate and fat-induced coma.”

  “I know exactly what you mean.” She stood and we headed out the front door. When we hit the end of the driveway, Nina reached for my hand. It felt natural to lace my fingers through hers, which was kind of frightening. That was another one of those things it was probably better not to think about.

  A breeze lifted her hair and sent it flying around her face. She released my hand and pulled a band from her wrist, which she used to put her hair in a ponytail.

  “Are you always armed with ponytail holders?” I asked as she slid her hand back into mine and we continued down the street.

  “Yes. You can normally count on me to have ponytail holders, a book, and a fair amount of dog fur,” she said. “What are you always carrying?”

  “My keys and my cell.” I thought about it. “That’s about it, unless I’ve spent time at your house.” I pointed at my right pant leg, which had a disturbing amount of dog fur on it. “Gidget leaned against me for like ten seconds. I don’t understand how this is possible.”

  Nina grinned. “She’s a giver.”

  We walked around the block, making small talk. It was comfortable. By the time we made it back to our driveway, I was awake. Going back to Nina’s house didn’t sound like a great plan. Of course we couldn’t go to my house, which left the BBQ court or the shed. I knew which one I’d pick. “Where to now?” I asked.

  Her cell buzzed. She checked the text and frowned. “Crap. I forgot that I told Lisa we’d hang out today. What’s up with Matt, anyway?”

  “Those are two separate topics,” I said. “What time are you supposed to meet Lisa?”

  “In an hour,” she said. “Now what’s up with your cousin?”

  “I have no idea.” And that was the truth. I wasn’t going to repeat what Charlie had said about Matt being into someone who wasn’t available because that could cause all sorts of problems, especially if Nina figured out who it was.

  “Not helpful,” she said. She texted Lisa back and then said. “I better go help my mom clean up the kitchen before I meet Lisa. You’re welcome to join me for dish duty if you like.”

  “No, thank you. I have books to read.” I walked her to her door and kissed her good-bye. “See you later.”

  …

  Nina

  I met Lisa at the bookstore so she could pick out a new book boyfriend. We both found a few books that sounded interesting, and then we browsed the adult coloring book section.

  Lisa showed me a coloring book with butterflies. “This one looks cool.”

  “I like the
ones with geometric patterns better.” I flipped through a few and found what I was looking for. I held it out to Lisa. “See, I can color these however I want.”

  “I’m getting the butterflies. They seem so optimistic.”

  We browsed the clearance area. “Hey, look. Sparkly gel pens are on sale.” I waved the package at Lisa.

  “Didn’t you buy a package of those last weekend?” she asked.

  “You can never have too many sparkly gel pens.” At least that was my theory. “And they’re 60 percent off, so your argument is invalid.”

  Lisa rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

  After paying for our treasures, we headed back to the cafe for caramel lattes.

  My cell beeped with a text. I read it and grinned. “Guess who needs to design a poster for the Keep the Hilmer Library Open campaign?”

  “I’m going to go with us,” Lisa said.

  “You are correct, because the library ladies managed to get us permission to hang posters all over the school and around town. We even have a small budget to make copies.”

  As we drank our coffees, Lisa and I worked at coming up with slogans for the campaign.

  “Nothing too cutesy,” I said. “Because we want guys to agree with us, too.”

  “So I guess, Keep the library open because book boyfriends are better than real boys isn’t an option,” Lisa said.

  I laughed. “Probably not.” I took a sip of my latte. “What about, Save the bookworm’s natural habitat?”

  “I’m not sure everyone would understand what that meant,” Lisa said. “Maybe we should keep it simple.”

  After tossing out and shooting down a dozen more ideas, we settled on, Keep the Hilmer Library Open. Recycle a Different Building.

  “It’s not super imaginative, but it gets the message across loud and clear,” I said.

  “We should go pick up some copies of the official petition and ask students to sign it to show their support,” Lisa said. “Let’s go back to my house to work on this. We don’t want West to know what we’re up to.”

  “Good idea.” West probably wouldn’t be thrilled, but I think he understood now that this wasn’t an attack on him. I just had a different opinion, which I was entitled to. I was never going to be one of those girls who agreed with everything a guy said. And if I was going to be a grown-up about it, I had to admit that he was entitled to his opinion, too.