I could tell the restaurant was going to be expensive just by glancing at the menu. The first thing I noticed was that there were no prices. If you’ve never been to a restaurant where they don’t include pricing in the menu you can assume everything listed is at least forty dollars a plate and it only goes up from there. The unsettling thing about that is there is no way to tell which ones are more than the starting rate unless you ask. The thing about asking is that at these kinds of restaurants, if you have to ask for prices, you probably cannot afford to eat there.
Another thing you had to know about these kinds of restaurants was that they had professional chefs.
When the waiter came to take our drink order, it caught me off guard when Ian ordered a bottle of champagne without even being carded. I didn’t know what to think since I’d never even had a drink before. He did not even have the common courtesy to ask me what I wanted to drink before ordering champagne. Had he planned on choosing what I would have to eat too? Well to send him a message, I ordered a glass of tea and noticed him giving me a look of disapproval, which I ignored.
“I take it you don’t like champagne?” Ian’s voice had an edge to it, like it was taking all he had to try to sound calm, but it wasn’t working.
“And I take it you don’t care about contributing to the delinquency of a minor? I’m only sixteen. You do know that I’m only sixteen, right?” I couldn’t help but ask him. Did he not know that just by ordering a bottle of champagne he was breaking at least a handful of laws?
“Yes, I do know how old you are. Lena was very clear about that, and no I don’t really care what the law tells me I can and can’t do.” His voice still had a certain tone that let me know he was slightly annoyed with me.
“Aren’t you only eighteen?”
“Is that what Lena told you?”
“Yes.”
“Then I guess I must be eighteen.”
“If you’re only eighteen, then how did you order champagne without being carded? So you lied about your age? What else are you lying about, Ian?”
“I haven’t lied about anything. It’s called money, Mattie. My parents have lots of it. They come here quite often. We are recognized by the people in this area. I just moved back home, but my family name has a lot of influence. It happens when you have a bit of power.” He sounded firm and intense, as if he were explaining how society works to someone who had been raised in a cave their entire life by a pack of wolves.
He looked at me so seriously he made me feel like a child being reprimanded. His words stung me a little because I knew he had just hit the nail on the head. It brought back the days when my dad was still alive. Because of who he was professionally, we had been treated differently too. Lena and her dad were treated that way now, and because Damien had taken me in and I lived with them, I sometimes had a few perks and benefits as well. I knew that money talked, and if I had been raised without my mother being the saint she was, I’m sure I would have turned out just like Ian and Lena.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound that way.” I knew I had stepped out of line coming across as accusatory and hateful the minute I had asked the previous questions. I’m sure he wondered who I thought I was believing I had the right to be so judgmental of him when Lena Montgomery was my best friend.
“Actually, Mattie, I think it’s you who deserves an apology. I’ve really been acting like a jerk, and it isn’t remotely your fault. Honestly, I hadn’t been so keen on being set up on a blind date. I’ve been on them before, and they’ve always ended in disaster, so I wasn’t very excited when Lena insisted on another one. She told me she would be there to introduce us, and when you answered the door and she never came out, I got frustrated and took it all out on you. I know I’m in the wrong.” His voice had softened with his response to where he almost sounded like a different person.
“I actually know exactly what you mean. I mean, I’ve never been on a blind date, but I wasn’t thrilled about the idea either. Lena kind of didn’t give me a choice. She actually made nail, hair, and cosmetic appointments for me and forced me to go to them in attempts to get me all dolled up in which I refused. Then, this afternoon she got in a really bad mood and I haven’t seen her since. She told me that she would introduce us too. I guess maybe I got the wrong idea of you,” I stated as Ian smiled in response.
“How about we start over, Mattie? Do you think you could possibly find it in you somewhere to give me a second chance to prove to you that I’m not an arrogant, hot tempered, narcissistic idiot?”
“I might be able to do that,” I said, pretending to think about it.
“I have to tell you, I was pretty scared when I was on my way to pick you up.”
“You were scared? Of what?” I wondered out loud in amusement.
“Yeah, Lena has set me up with some real winners.” He continued sarcastically, “I swear one looked like a donkey, but when she laughed it was clear that I was wrong. Her mother had obviously had an affair with a hyena!”
“Wow! See, if I were you, I wouldn’t have ever let her set me up again!”
“But it paid off because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be at a nice restaurant getting to apologize to a beautiful girl who is doing a great job at pretending she could possibly end up liking me.”
“Okay, you caught me. I’ll admit it, I didn’t like you earlier, but you’re growing on me a little.” I could tell I was blushing as I said it, but it was the truth. I was coming to the conclusion that maybe Ian might be turning out to be not so bad of a guy after all.
“Well, Mattie, what would it take for me to get you to have some champagne with me?” He was almost charming in the way he looked at me.
“I’m not a big drinker, to be honest with you.” Hopefully he would buy into my response.
“Maybe that’s because you’ve never tried it,” he suggested, giving me a half smile that made the fluttering feeling in my stomach start up again.
“You’re right, I haven’t ever tried it,” I admitted, suddenly feeling really young and inexperienced.
“Well, you shouldn’t knock it til you try it. A glass of champagne is not going to incapacitate you.” He sounded so convincing.
“I probably shouldn’t. What if we get stopped on the way home, or what if we happen to have an accident? I really don’t want us both to go to jail because I have champagne on my breath,” I countered.
Surely throwing the cops into it would get him to back off.
“That will never happen. Trust me, Mattie, I will never let anything happen to you. It’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know.” I could tell I was beginning to be less stubborn with my answers, as I was grasping for straws, trying to come up with any excuse I could think of.
“Champagne doesn’t even have that high of alcohol content percentage. It isn’t like hard liquor. This just has a tiny bit to give it flavor, Mattie.” He sounded so matter of fact.
“Lena would really be upset if I took my first drink with someone else when she’s been begging me for a while.” I didn’t know what else I could say to distract Ian.
“Lena doesn’t have to know unless you tell her. I’m not going to say a word. This is our date, and Lena isn’t here. What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.”
He had made a very good point. He was right. Why did Lena have to know anything? If what he was telling me about the alcohol content, there shouldn’t be a problem.
“How much does it take to make you drunk?” Since drinking was a new adventure for me, I wanted to avoid any possibility of not being able to walk out of the restaurant by myself.
“Trust me, there isn’t even enough here to make you drunk. Just have one glass to see if you like the taste. If you don’t, then at least you can say you’ve tried it.”
It sounded simple enough. A glass of champagne seemed harmless. What could possibly go wrong if I had one glass of champagne? Then the voice inside was telling me not to do it. I felt it all the way to my bones, telling me to
stay away and that it was only the gateway that led to darker things. Debating on whether or not to tell Ian to pour the contents of the bottle that sat in a bucket of ice, which sat on the table directly in front of me, I decided I was tired of that little voice telling me what to do. I was going to prove that I wasn’t as lame and predictable as Lena thought I was.
“Okay, fill it up.” With those four words, I watched Ian pop the cork out of the dark green bottle as foam exploded out the top and ran down the side onto his hand. After drying it off with his napkin, he proceeded to fill the crystal glass that sat in front of me with a sparkling, bubbly liquid that reminded me of ginger ale when poured in a glass.
After filling his own glass, Ian raised it in his hand and I did the same as we toasted the glasses. The tube-shaped glass reminded me of a tulip, and the slender stem felt delicate between my fingers, as if it would break right in half if I gripped it too hard. As the glass touched my bottom lip, it felt cold as the carbonated champagne flowed into my mouth. The taste was new and exotic to my taste buds as it flowed over my tongue. It was sweet but tart at the same time, with a little bit of fizz. The flavor made it feel like small shockwaves were going off in my mouth as I tried to get used to the taste.
I hadn’t even noticed I had emptied my glass already when the food arrived at the table and the waiter set our plates down on the white linen tablecloth. I folded my napkin in my lap, looking down at the arrangement of shrimp scampi and baked potato; the chef had made it look like a piece of artwork that was almost too pretty to eat. When I looked back up, I saw that my champagne glass had been refilled without having to ask for a refill. I didn’t feel drunk.
Before I knew it, we were on our third bottle of champagne and I had given up counting how many glasses I had consumed. What I did know was right now I really liked Ian, everything was funny, I had very poor coordination, and my vision was blurry.
When Ian suggested desert, I could no longer make out the words on the menu, so I just pointed at something and hoped whatever was delivered to the table tasted good. We were halfway through the third bottle of champagne, and I noticed Ian wasn’t drinking nearly as fast as I was. For a minute, I wondered if he had consumed as much as I had and how long he had been drinking on the same glass. But then the thought faded from my mind just as quickly as it had come. I really couldn’t focus on much at the moment, and I didn’t really care very deeply about anything. The room had started slowly turning in circles, and I was almost having to squint to see Ian clearly even though he was sitting right across the table from me.
As I went to pick up my glass to drink the last half of the champagne left that had finished off the bottle, I miscalculated where to put my hand and spilled it all over the front of my dress. Rather than being upset, I found it hilarious and laughed uncontrollably. Ian left some cash on the table and suggested it was time to go as he laughed at me.
The next thing I knew we were back in the Camaro, and this time Ian had put it on a local radio station that I listened to when I didn’t have my MP3 player with me. We were both singing at the top of our lungs as we flew down the highway without a care in the world. I had no idea where we were going or what was planned next for our date, but I was having a blast living in the moment. His crazy driving didn’t even cross my mind. I don’t even know that I was consciously aware that we were driving anywhere as I was happy being in my own world with this new incredible feeling.
We exited off of the highway, and I didn’t even recognize my own neighborhood as we pulled up in front of my house. I asked who lived there. Ian laughed at me again, helping me out of the car as I stumbled around, repeatedly tripping over my own feet, trying to find my keys in the bottom of my purse. Finally I dug them out of my purse, but I couldn’t even see which key went to the house as I held them up right in front of my face. Ian helped me walk to the door as I fumbled with the house key, trying to get it into the first of three locks on the door. Taking the keys from my hand, he slid the key into the lock with ease so I could turn it and unlock the top deadbolt. I hadn’t even made my way to trying to unlock the other locks on the door when out of nowhere, I decided kissing Ian seemed like a great idea.
I have no idea what came over me, but I dropped the keys and ran my fingers through Ian’s hair, pulling him into a kiss. Unfortunately, when our lips met, I couldn’t feel a thing! I felt pressure, but nothing else. Even though I could tell he was kissing with such intensity, I felt nothing. With my back against the front door so I wouldn’t lose my balance and fall flat on my face. Ian was right in front of me. I felt his hands run through my hair as I began to wonder when this was going to end. It wasn’t as much fun as I thought it would have been before I realized I was so drunk that I was numb all over. I pulled back, turning my head away, but he caught my face with his hand, forcing me to turn back to face him. He started kissing me harder, and I started to panic.
I had given him the green light that I was up for anything when I stupidly made the first advance. I felt his hands slide up my thighs as he gave a little tug at the hem of my skirt, sliding it up little by little. When I moved my hands onto his, trying to push them off of me, he grabbed my wrists, pinning me against the door. I wanted to cry. I wished someone, anyone, would notice that I didn’t want this to be happening. As he kissed me even more roughly, I felt my lip start to sting, followed by the salty taste of blood.
His hand moved to my face as he pulled his fingers through my hair, entwining them and pulling until I let out a whimper of pain. I felt myself giving into a losing battle, knowing I was too drunk and uncoordinated from the champagne to defend myself. As I felt my freedom slipping away, the voice inside began screaming at me to find the courage inside to stop this, causing goose bumps to rise on my skin. I had to fight to pull away, but somehow I managed to escape his grasp. Staring deeply into his eyes, trying to focus, Ian stared right back into my dilated pupils with a scary look in his eye that conveyed a threat of controlling me and making me do something I didn’t want to. If I could just come up with a way to get him to leave tonight, then I could deal with this later when I was sober.
“You want to take this inside where we can have more privacy?” he asked as he backed up, looking me over from head to toe as if he were undressing me with his eyes.
“Ian, I’ve really had a great time with you tonight, but I’m not ready for this,” I whispered, afraid of how he was going to react.
“Don’t you like the way it feels when I kiss you, baby?” he asked as he placed his lips near my ear.
If he only knew how badly I really wanted to scream at the top of my lungs until someone heard me and came to my rescue.
“You are a great guy, Ian. It’s just that I want to remember it when I give myself away. It isn’t something I want to do when I’m drunk and won’t remember,” I said, putting my hand on his cheek.
“Okay, we won’t do it tonight. I promise it will be special when it happens, okay?”
I nodded, not knowing exactly how to respond, trying to fight the urge to double over in the bushes and puke out the expensive meal and champagne he had just spent a small fortune on. Ian took a step back, looking at me as he ran his hands across his face, as if he were trying to wipe away his frustration, making me feel even more uncomfortable, even through my drunkenness. The cold outside was starting to make me shiver, which only made me feel more sick to my stomach as my mouth had started to water and caused me to clench my teeth. I was hoping he would leave soon because I really didn’t want to have to embarrass myself further by hurling all over his shiny, leather shoes.
“Mattie, I just want you to know you are beautiful and I can wait for a little while.” With that, he said good night and headed for his car.
I unlocked the door and stumbled up the stairs as I tried to make it to my bathroom as quickly as my drunken feet could carry me. I was so nauseated I did not know if I could make it in time. By the time I made it to the top of the staircase, I had to run so I didn’t vomit al
l over the carpet. I hugged the toilet for what had to have been thirty minutes straight. Sitting in my bathroom floor I was so cold, even though I was sweating through my clothes, as the nausea kept coming in waves, and I was retching so hard my eyes were watering.
As I wiped my eyes, my makeup smeared across my hand. I tried to get a wet washcloth, but every time I moved, it caused me to vomit more. Giving up, I lay down on the cold bathroom tile and tried to stay as still as possible to avoid further sickness but it was to no avail. I knew it was coming as soon as I would get really hot, clenching my teeth as my mouth started watering then, it just happened over and over again with no end in sight. The remainder of the night was spent with my head lying on the toilet seat, waiting for the next wave of nausea to hit.
By the time the sun was beginning to rise, I had vomited so hard and so many times every muscle in my stomach, back, and legs felt as if they were Jell-O, and due to my melted makeup situation, I looked like raccoon at a water park. I still had on the dress from last night, although it now reeked of champagne and vomit, my haired was tangled, and I was missing an earring that had probably been flushed down the toilet at some point during my hurl fest. I had never been this sick in my entire life. I’d finally stopped vomiting and crawled to the bathroom sink in an attempt to pull myself up high enough to turn on the faucet and wet a washcloth, but I didn’t have the energy. I gave up again and lay back onto the floor when I heard my bedroom door open.
As soon as Lena saw me lying on the floor looking like death warmed over, she started laughing.
“Mattie, are you okay?”
Enigma Page 5
