“Action movies have happy endings.”
“Everything blows up in action movies. And people get killed…a lot.”
“Yeah, all the bad guys. The good guys always win in the end.”
“Which is completely unrealistic.”
“And chick flicks aren’t?”
“Girl meets boy. Girl falls in love with boy. They live happily ever after. Seems pretty realistic to me.” The irony of what I was saying struck me. If only it were that simple. Still, I had started my argument, so I was seeing it through. “Much more realistic than one guy beating up, like, what, a hundred guys or something like that?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Details.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You know, you’re all about the details until they go against your purpose.”
Luke opened his mouth to reply, but he was saved from spouting what would have undoubtedly been a lame response by Tanya’s arrival. She promptly started class. That was one of the things I liked about her. She didn’t mess around.
I was pleased to see that Luke continued to use multiple color pens to take notes. I wondered if he did the same thing in his other classes. It would be easy enough to find out the next time I was at the Beta house. I knew where he kept his binders.
Class also ended promptly, a little earlier than normal actually.
Luke put his binder in his backpack and zipped it up. “Is six good for tomorrow night?”
I nodded, gulping a little. This was really happening.
Grinning, he reached out and playfully tugged on a lock of my hair that was hanging on my shoulder. “See you then.”
…
“What are you wearing?” Amber said.
“Huh?” I looked down at my clothes, confused. I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt. We were in our room, Amber hunched over her toes, painting each one a different color, me reading my criminology textbook with highlighter in hand. I would be getting a lot more done if Amber would stop talking to me.
She rolled her eyes. “Not now, silly. Tomorrow night.”
Surprisingly, this was the closest she’d gotten to grilling me about my date with Luke.
“I haven’t thought about it.”
And I hadn’t. On purpose. I was trying to stay cool, calm, and collected about this. So what if it’d been almost six years since I’d been on a first date?
Except when I put it that way, I started to hyperventilate a little.
“Where’s he taking you?”
“Dinner and a movie.”
“I know that.” She sighed. “Where are you going for dinner?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“So you don’t know?” A look of horror crossed her face.
“No. Is that a problem?”
“Uh, yeah.” Her expression clearly said you’re an idiot. “If you’re going to a fancy restaurant, then you need to dress up. If you’re just going to McDonald’s, then that’s something else.”
“I highly doubt he’s taking me to McDonald’s,” I said drily.
“You know, I never would have thought that was possible on a first date, but after that one guy last year…” She shuddered. “I don’t even remember his name. I’ve blocked it out of my memory.” Another guy from Amber’s sparkling track record. And speaking of her track record—
“When is Brad going to take you out on a formal date?”
“That is an excellent question,” she huffed. “Let me know if you figure out the answer to that one, because I sure as hell don’t know.”
“Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?”
She screwed the top on her nail polish. “Yes. No. I don’t know. Maybe I’ve been too forward.”
“You haven’t…?”
She shot me a dirty look. “No, I haven’t slept with him.” She gestured to herself. “This milk ain’t free. I at least need some dinner or something first.”
She had my sympathy. They could make a sitcom based on her dating experiences.
“And you’re changing the subject,” she said. “This isn’t about me. You’re the one with a date. Decide what you’re going to wear, and I’ll tell you if it’s acceptable.”
I looked longingly at my textbook and highlighter. “Now?”
“Yes.”
With a sigh, I closed the book and went to stand in front of my closet. The sooner I got this over with, the sooner I could get back to studying. There was a reason I hadn’t picked an outfit yet. I didn’t want to obsess over this whole thing. I had a track record of being weird where Luke was concerned.
And besides, he’d already seen me in everything from jeans to party clothes to my performance dress. Heck, he’d even seen me in his clothes. It wasn’t like I needed to make a first impression. It was much too late for that.
I pulled out a baby blue button-down shirt at random.
“Eww, no.” Amber made a face. “This isn’t a job interview.”
I gave her an insulted look. That was a nice shirt. Still, I shoved it back into the closet and pulled out another. This one was also met with rejection.
“What do you suggest?” I asked. She might as well just cut to the chase and tell me what to wear now rather than us going through this song and dance of me suggesting things she was just going to inevitably reject.
“A dress.”
“I don’t know. That seems so formal.”
“When’s the last time you went on a first date? Weren’t you, like, fourteen or something?”
“So?” I said defensively. Cue the hyperventilation. See? That’s why I hadn’t done this.
“Relax. I’m not criticizing.” She paused. “Well, not much anyway. The point is you’re out of practice.” She stood and waddled over to my closet, careful not to smudge her toenail polish. She looked through my closet until she spotted some black fabric in the back. “What’s this in the back? A little black dress?”
It was a black dress, but not the kind she was thinking of. She pulled it out, and I immediately snatched it out of her hands and hung it back up.
“Is that what I think it was?”
If she thought it was the dress I’d worn to Tyler’s funeral, then she thought correctly.
I nodded stiffly.
“Why do you have that here?” she asked incredulously.
I crossed my arms, refusing to answer her. It was a question that I had often asked myself, but when it came time to pack my stuff up at my parents’ house, I couldn’t leave it behind.
She looked at where it was hanging in the closet, barely visible, her confusion evident. “Are you planning to wear it?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why do you have it?” At my angry look, she hastily added, “I’m not judging you, I promise. I’m just trying to understand. Why do that to yourself?”
Before I knew what I was doing, I reached out and touched the fabric with my fingertips. It was scratchy, just as I remembered. Scratchy and suffocating.
“I don’t know.” I was unable to explain my actions. “If I left it at home, my mom would probably get rid of it.”
“Would that be a bad thing?” she asked gently.
She had a valid point. The dress was a memento from one of the worst days of my life. I had sat in the front of the church right behind Tyler’s family, one of the best seats in the house. The view was— I took a shaky breath, remembering. I could see the casket clearly from where I was sitting, a rich mahogany. People told me afterward that the service was beautiful. How could a funeral be fucking beautiful? It didn’t matter anyway. How could I listen to what anyone was saying when all I could look at was that box and think about who was inside?
I balled the dress up in my hands. Tears started to gather in my eyes.
“Okay, okay,” she said quickly. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. This is a happy thing we’re doing—picking an outfit that will drive Luke crazy.” She took my hands in hers and shook them, like she was trying to shake off the somber mood. “Let’s be happy here.”
<
br /> I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, taking a few deep breaths, each one burying the memories. When I was done, I opened my eyes and righted my head. “Okay.”
“You good now?”
I took another deep breath and nodded.
She smiled. “Good. What other dresses do you have?”
I pulled out a spaghetti strap dress in a navy print with pink and yellow flowers and a ruffled bodice. It fell to mid-thigh.
Amber clapped her hands. “You’ve been holding out on me! This is perfect. Wear it with heels.”
“I don’t want to be too tall.” At five foot six, I wasn’t overly tall, but add three inches to that and I started to feel like an Amazonian.
She snorted. “I wish I had that problem.” Even in four inch heels, Amber barely came up to my nose when I was in flats. “Anyway, Luke’s tall. You won’t be taller than him.”
“I don’t know.” I hesitated, trying to come up with an excuse to wear jeans. “It might be cold at the restaurant and in the movie theater.”
Amber hopped over to her own closet and pulled out a cropped jean jacket. “Problem solved.”
I stood in front of the mirror holding the ensemble up to my body. Not bad. Then the realization set in that I was really and truly going on a date with Luke.
Cue the obsessing.
…
Luke was right on time. He’d even put a top and doors on his Jeep, thank goodness. Amber spent a good thirty minutes curling my normally stick-straight hair, and I’d hate to see it ruined in the first five minutes.
I waited at the front door for him, so I ran out to meet him before he had even turned the ignition off and quickly clambered up into the passenger seat. I wish he’d installed a step when he put the doors on. At least the door handle gave me something to hold onto while I hoisted myself up.
He smiled. “I was going to get out and open the door for you.”
I folded my hands in my lap. Shit. Had I screwed up already? Amber had been right when she pointed out how long it’d been since I’d been on a first date. I didn’t know the rules anymore. But wasn’t chivalry supposed to be dead? Luke must not have gotten the memo.
We sat idling in the parking lot. I shot him a confused look. “Are we going?”
“Buckle up.”
I blushed. “Oh, yeah.” I pulled the seat belt across my body and we were off.
Luke had the radio tuned to an interview with the university football coach, which suited me just fine. Small talk was overrated.
He took us to a steak house. True to his word, he hopped out and came around to my side of the Jeep to open my door. He held out his hand, which I took, and I tried to climb down without showing off my business to the world. Easier said than done.
There was already a crowd of people waiting, so I found a corner to stand in while he put our names on the list. The restaurant was the type that gave out buckets of peanuts and people threw their peanut shells on the floor. Somehow one got lodged in my sandal. I was considering the best way to get it out when Luke came over with a buzzer and a bucket of peanuts.
“It should be about thirty minutes,” he said.
I nodded and shifted. That damn shell was really digging in. I shifted again and then inhaled sharply as the shell dug into my skin.
Luke’s expression was alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
“The peanuts—”
“Oh, shit. Are you allergic to peanuts?”
I shook my head.
He exhaled. “Thank God. I didn’t even think to ask about that. Is this place okay? If not, we can go somewhere else.”
“I like this place. It’s just—” God, this was embarrassing. “There’s a peanut shell stuck in my shoe.”
He laughed. “Is that all?” Kneeling, he handed me the bucket and buzzer. He patted his knee.
I looked at him in shock. “You don’t have to do that. I mean, it’s on my foot.”
“Come on, Cinderella. Give me your foot.”
I hesitated. That damn shell was really hurting me, though, so I put my foot up on his knee, careful again to hold down my dress. He slipped the shoe off my foot and shook it out. Then he replaced it and even re-buckled the strap in the right hole. Impressive.
“Better?” he asked.
I put the weight back on my foot and sighed with relief. “Much.”
I handed him the peanuts, but held onto the buzzer. He grinned.
He nodded with a gleam in his eye. “Make sure you include that in your report tonight.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Isn’t that what you girls do? The entire Alpha house will know about our date by tomorrow.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Is that what you think I’m going to do? Give my sisters the play-by-play as soon as you drop me off?”
“Oh, yeah.” He grinned. “Right before the pillow fight in your lacy underwear.”
I rolled my eyes. “You are so delusional.”
He popped a peanut into his mouth. “Not delusional. Just hopeful.”
“Sorry to shatter your hopes and dreams, but this dress is more revealing than my pajamas.”
He gave me the once-over with his eyes. I smoothed down the dress self-consciously. I’d all but invited him to check me out and he’d accepted. “It is a very nice dress,” he assured me, his tone naughty.
My thoughts were equally naughty. I silently thanked Amber for convincing me to wear this.
“Thank you.”
He fingered one of my curls. “This is nice, too.” His finger grazed my throat, lingering there briefly.
“Thank you. Again.”
He looked at me expectantly. “Come on. Don’t leave me hanging. It’s your turn to say something nice about me.”
I stood back and put a hand up to my chin, making a show out of checking him out. He was wearing dark jeans and a blue polo shirt, which brought out his eyes. I wondered if he did that on purpose. He was clean shaven, and he didn’t wear any jewelry other than a watch. I liked that about him. He was low maintenance.
“Very nice,” I said.
“I feel like such a piece of meat.”
I laughed. “You loved it.”
He smiled. “You want a peanut?”
I took a peanut out of the bucket and cracked it open. Our buzzer went off then, and we waded through the crowd of people to get to the hostess station.
Over dinner I learned a lot about Luke. He was from northern Virginia. He told me about growing up as the middle child. He’d played baseball in high school and had hoped to play in college, but then he injured his shoulder his senior year, ruining his chance at a scholarship. He didn’t seem bitter about it, though. He was graduating with a business degree next year, but had no idea what he wanted to do with it. He was considering getting his MBA while he figured it out.
While we were waiting for the server to return with his credit card, Luke leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Okay, hit me with it. What movie are we seeing tonight?”
“There’s a new Reese Witherspoon rom-com,” I gushed.
He flinched, but recovered quickly. “Okay.”
I laughed. “I’m just kidding. There’s that new Marvel movie.”
His eyes lit up. “Seriously?” He was way too excited for this.
It was my turn to lean back in my chair. I raised my eyebrows. “Are you a closet comic book nerd?”
“First of all, superheroes are cool. And second of all, I’m not a closet anything. My life is an open book.”
“An open book, huh?” I racked my brain, trying to come up with something I wanted to ask about that open book. Our server came back with his credit card, and I missed my window of opportunity. Damn. Too slow.
He guided me out of the restaurant with his hand on the small of my back, even carrying my doggy bag. He was definitely playing the gentleman card, and I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed the chivalry.
“Are you going to the game tomorrow?” he asked once we were in the Jeep an
d on the way to the movie theater. Tomorrow was the first home football game of the year.
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just not.”
He glanced over at me. “Do you want to go?”
“Are you already asking me on a second date when this one’s not even over yet?”
If so, yes please!
“No, I’m doing you a favor. Even though our team sucks this year, you should still go.”
“Why?”
He looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “Because college football is awesome.”
“I went to a few games last year. It was okay.”
“You must have been doing something wrong.”
I laughed. “How can you do that wrong? You go to the game, you watch the game. Done.”
He shook his head sadly. “Cori, this is just sad. You don’t even know what’s wrong with what you just said. Do yourself a favor and come to the game with us tomorrow.”
“I don’t have a ticket.”
“We have extras.”
I still wasn’t convinced. And I’d planned to go to the tutoring center to see if I could get a work study position or something. I didn’t know if they did that, but I was getting nowhere with the tuition situation. Getting a job was not part of my plan, but a position at the tutoring center on campus wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.
The theater wasn’t far from the restaurant, so we were already in the parking lot, looking for an open space. He found one in the last row and pulled in.
He turned to me. “Even if you end up regretting going on this date with me, you won’t regret going to the game with the Beta Chis tomorrow.”
“I don’t regret this date,” I said quickly.
“Your hesitation here is making me wonder.”
“Sorry,” I said, looking down at my lap. “I haven’t been on a date in a while.”
“Really?” he questioned, surprise in his voice.
I looked up sharply. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him that. I didn’t want him to think I was a social leper, but I wasn’t ready to share the truth with him, either. That wasn’t a subject easily broached, but I’d have to tell him eventually.
Maybe.
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