Loose Possession

by Lily Roberts

  God, that was somehow worse.

  “Denise, that’s somehow worse.” Sydney pushed herself free of Denise’s grip, shooting a stare at me before momentarily pausing. I could see the gears visibly turning behind her face, expression softening. “Actually…”

  Sydney, no.

  “I’ve…been thinking about what you said Saturday, and,” She visibly squirmed in her seat, looking crazy uncomfortable. “Jesus, I just—I suck at apologizing, so if I pay for your dinner, can we call ourselves even, Scott?”

  I blinked, slowly. That wasn’t what I expected to hear from her. Not that I’d ever turn down a free dinner, but one paid for, willingly, by Sydney Burton? It felt a bit dirty, but…I wasn’t about to say she was wrong. Her and vocalizing an apology didn’t exactly get along.

  “Well?” Sydney asked, her tone a mixture of impatience and desperation.

  I hadn’t realized I’d kept her waiting. “Uh…where’s the place?”

  Denise immediately dug into her jacket pocket and whipped out a list. “I’m glad you asked! I’ve worked out a few places based on cost and overall atmosphere, as well as whatever food they actually serve. When you two finish with practice, we can all decide together where to head for dinner this evening!”

  “Wow. You…must’ve spent a lot of time on that.” Cooper said weakly.

  Denise nodded, positively beaming. “Okay, well, Sydney got whatever she needed today, so we’ll head out to not distract you two.”

  “Wait, what? But I--!” Sydney didn’t get the chance to argue. In one, sweeping movement, the camera equipment was slid into the bag and the bag slipped around Denise’s shoulders. She literally started pushing Sydney across the bleachers, Sydney herself barely able to get up onto her feet in time.

  “We’ll see you boys laaater!” Denise called as the pair of them hopped off the bleachers and made their way across the field.

  Cooper got off a quick wave before turning my way, the shittiest-eating grin plastered across his face.

  “I thought, ‘us two would work it out?’” I asked.

  Cooper shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Everyone needs a push now and then. Now, come on. Actual practice is going on.”

  “Says the guy who nearly slapped a pair of onlookers with a football?!” I snapped back while chasing Cooper across the field.

  “Dude, I have faith in you,” Cooper assured me.

  Oh my God.

  Are you kidding me?

  Dinner? I’m going to dinner with the Scott Sawyer? And not even that; I’m paying for Scott’s dinner while also playing third wheel to Denise’s date night. Jesus, what’s been happening these last few days? Couldn’t I get one week without something going completely tits up?

  Maybe that kickball to the face hit me harder than I thought? Maybe this was all a concussion delusion? Nah, I wasn’t that lucky.

  “Hellooo? Earth to Sydney?”

  I blinked, back to sitting on my bed as Denise held two dresses against her body. “Sorry, what?”

  Denise let out a huff. “You said you’d help me pick out an outfit! And I’d help you; equal trading and all that.”

  Oh. Right. I crossed my arms, sending a scowl her way. “Remind me again why I’m indulging this insane idea of yours?”

  “Because you, by your own admission, made it very clear that this way your way of apologizing.” Denise replied, holding a black, sheer knee-length dress against her body. “What do you think? Too formal?”

  “But it’s a date!” I said.

  “Why’d you offer, then?” Denise asked.

  I opened my mouth to reply, but stopped. I was the one who made the offer in the first place. I couldn’t really yell at her for that. “W-Well, I didn’t really think about the context of it all. It’s practically a double-date.”

  One of Denise’s eyebrows raised my way. “Yeah, I said that before, too, but you seemed cool with it.”

  “Again; didn’t really consider the context.” I sighed, flopping back against my bed while wrapping my arms around my waist. “Denise, be honest. Is this just the Universe’s way of screwing with me?”

  Denise set both dresses on her bed before hopping over to mine. “What you mean, girl?”

  I sat up, arms folded against my lap. “I mean, Scott and I always seem to get pushed together somehow. No part of me wanted him here, and yet…” I let out another, heavy sigh. “You think it’s some sort of karmic retribution? Should I go work at a soup kitchen to get some brownie points?”

  Denise made a slight face. “I’m pretty sure anyone who’d say that would just get worse Karma.”

  Crap.

  “But maybe you two keep getting pushed together for a reason outside of pissing each other off?” Denise offered. “Like, I dunno, to resolve some of that past tension between you two? Maybe the Universe wants you two to make out? Make up, sorry,” She laughed. “Freudian slip, I guess.”

  God, it seemed to always round back to us kissing. “Maybe the Universe thinks we make a cute couple,” I bemoaned.

  Denise giggled. “Honestly? This whole, ‘Universe’ talk sounds a bit like you projecting.”

  I scoffed. “What are you, my therapist?”

  Denise shrugged. “I dunno; you sure talk to me like I’m one. Now, seriously, can you help me out?”

  I rolled my eyes, gesturing her off my bed and back towards the dresses. Denise lets out a squeal, practically flying back to her side of the room to scoop up the two hangers. Maybe if I just saw tonight as nothing but an apology to Scott, it would go over better. Maybe I should stop flipping back and forth between making him out as a monster and just a man. This was way different from high school, I just wasn’t sure if it was worse different or a better different.

  One thing was for certain; this time, I was going to drink absolutely zero alcohol. As much as I hated the idea of being sober for this event, I’d be an absolute idiot for making the same mistake twice. Having Scott cold to me was…a really off-putting experience, and it’d only lasted a few days.

  “So, what are you gonna wear?” Denise suddenly asked.

  “Huh? Oh,” I shrugged, gesturing to my work-out hoodie and sweats.

  Denise shook her head immediately. “Oh, no. Absolutely not.”

  “I’m not the one going on the date,” I began to protest, but Denise is clearly not having any of it from me.

  “All the places I picked are fairly nice, so whether you like it or not, you’re going to look pretty for tonight.”

  Oh, God help me.

  “And throwing a pair of jeans on with your hair pulled up isn’t going to cut it. Oh, no,” Denise grinned. “We’re giving you a full-out make-over, girl. I wanna see how pretty we can get that face of yours to be.”

  “What, my face isn’t pretty as is?” I asked, feigning hurt.

  Denise waved her finger my way, making a tsk-tsk sound while doing so. “Take your fishing pole somewhere else; you know I’m not gonna bite and give you compliments. That’s what Scott’s for.”

  God, she was such a fangirl. “All right, then,” I held up my hands in defeat. “I surrender to the expert, then. Do what you will with me.”

  An almost malevolent grin crossed Denise’s face. “Hell yeah. Let’s get started, then.”

  The more I thought of it, the more I realized how bad of an idea this all was.

  In the heat of the moment, I was probably just thinking about free food. Or, maybe I was taken aback by a genuine attempt at an apology from Sydney? Whatever the case was, only when I got into Cooper’s car and we parked in front of the girls’ dorm did everything catch up to me.

  I was going on a date with Sydney Burton.

  Was this real? Was it just a dream? Was it a nightmare? It’s certainly not something I saw myself ever doing in my lifetime, but here I was, sitting in the back and waiting for my “date” to come on out. Man, were these some wild times.

  “Didn’t get your date any flowers?” Cooper asked from the driver’s seat.
“That’s a pretty lame thing to do.”

  “Look who’s talking,” I retorted. “You’re the one going on the date, man, and you didn’t get Denise anything.”

  Cooper thought I couldn’t see it, but I caught the grimace on his face through the rear view mirror. “Y-Yeah. I wasn’t sure what she’d like. What she was potentially allergic to. We only started dating two days ago.”

  I sat back into my seat, arms drumming against the car door. “Yeah, yeah. She’s awful…enthusiastic…about it all.”

  “Who, Denise?” Cooper laughed nervously. “Oh, yeah; she’s really into it. Texted me over a hundred messages after the night I asked her out.”

  “Yikes.”

  “No, no,” Cooper waved a hand. “It’s fine! Once we get a bit more comfortable with each other, I’m sure she won’t be as,”

  “Clingy?” I asked.

  Cooper turned his back to me to shoot a look. “Your words, not mine.”

  “Dude, you do know you don’t have to date her if you don’t want to, right?” I asked. “Just because she likes you doesn’t mean you have to force the same on your end.” Huh. That weirdly rubbed me the wrong way after it came out of my mouth.

  Cooper shrugged, nervously adjusting and re-adjusting his mirrors. “I dunno. I’ll give it a shot, at the very least. Would be pretty lame if I didn’t even go on a first date.”

  “Whatever you say, man.” I went to sink back into my chair, only to sit up straight as the dorm door swung open. Finally, Sydney and her roommate were ready, strolling out from underneath the door frame as if they owned the place.

  I almost didn’t recognize her as the same loudmouth from my past. Her hair was pulled up into an intricate knot with one strand left to curl and brush against her shoulder, fully revealing a face dolled up to an extent I haven’t seen since high school. She’d put on a dark jean jacket and a fiery-red dress that went past her knees, as well as a pair of black flats I don’t blame her for wearing in the slightest.

  Sydney…really looked like she’d dressed up for a date.

  Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling so confident in my outfit. Was my dress shirt too wrinkly? My pants too informal? Maybe I’d gone too heavy on the hair gel?

  “Relax, Scott,” Cooper chuckled up front. “You look fine. Don’t let her sense your panic, though; girls can smell fear.”

  “H-Ha-ha. Funny.” I weakly snapped back.

  Denise reached the car first, practically yanking the front passenger side open before sliding in. “Heeeey, Cooper! Don’t you look handsome outside of uniform.”

  “You’re looking pretty nice yourself,” Cooper replied. “I like what you did with your hair.”

  I had no idea what Denise did to her hair. But, she must’ve done something, because she started giggling like mad. “Aww, thank you! But, honestly, I think Sydney takes the cake tonight. I worked all my magic on her.”

  “Well, not too much, obviously,” Cooper added, gesturing Denise’s way.

  Again came another round of bashful giggles. For someone who wasn’t entirely interested in the girl, Cooper sure knew how to woo the ladies.

  “Sydney! Girl, get your butt in here!” Denise called through the car’s window. “I know you wanna show yourself off, but I’m starving!”

  Sydney’s face visibly lit up. She quickly yanked the back door open and dropped into the seat, not even giving me the time of the day as she slammed the door shut behind her.

  “U-Uh,” I swallowed nervously. “You look…nice.”

  “Yeah, well,” Sydney gave me a courteous look-over; to my relief, she actually looked somewhat impressed. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  “All right, lovebirds, buckle up so we can get going,” Cooper teased.

  I was certain my face reflected Sydney’s as we both quickly clicked our belts into place. With that, Cooper pulled up on the parking brake and set out of the college parking lot, ready to make our way onto the street and into the city.

  I mean “city” in the loosest possible definition of the term

  It was more like someone took a chunk of a city’s shopping district and plopped it into a straightaway strip. Sure, there was traffic and scraping skylines, but not to the extent of actual downtown. It was nice, though; like a starter city for those not quite ready for the whole package. Plus, it took less than five minutes for us to actually get to the restaurant in question, so that left less time for awkward small talk.

  It’s just an apology dinner, I repeated in my head over and over again. Sydney doesn’t like you like that, and you feel exactly the same. I snuck a glance over her way, catching her elbow against the door as she stared out the window. Lights from lampposts and passing adverts caught against her figure, creating a soft glow against her skin. Briefly, her eyes flickered towards me, shimmering brightly.

  I immediately looked away, not feeling smooth in the slightest. It’s just an apology dinner, you idiot. Don’t mess this up because of your whacked-out feelings.

  Finally, Cooper pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot, the name, “Sizzling Sakura’s” lit up in neon-pink against the side. It was some sort of Japanese steakhouse, or some such, where chefs cooked directly at your table on huge, sizzling stovetops. Cooper mentioned he’d been here before and it just so happened to be one of the ideas on Denise’s list.

  “So, this place is cost-efficient, huh?” I asked as we all piled out.

  “Says the guy who’s not paying for anything tonight?” Denise asked teasingly.

  I risked another glance towards Sydney—it’s not like we could avoid eye-contact all night—and she looked a bit pale. Maybe she realized what she’d finally gotten herself into? After all, football players know how to eat. “I,” She caught me looking again and shook her head. “N-No worries! I withdrew some cash for tonight, so, go wild, Scott.”

  That was not a phrase you wanted to use around me. As much as I’d fantasized of such a day, there was just no way could I drain her wallet like that. Apology or not, it would feel kind of icky to do so. I kept that to myself, instead giving Sydney a fairly lame thumbs-up while we made our way into the restaurant.

  I honestly wasn’t expecting it to look as nice as it did. The interior was dimly lit, an occasional flash of fire climbing from a few tables while the sizzling of food and oil was practically music to my ears. This for sure seemed like the place to go with a group, though a few tables were sized down for more intimate nights out. The tables themselves mostly consisted of a huge, flat-stove grill, while slabs of flat wood boxed around it to act as the tables themselves (thankfully pushed enough away so no customer would get burned by hot oil).

  “Holy shit,” I gasped.

  “I know, right?” Denise crooned, already wrapping around Cooper’s arm. “But don’t worry; this place is seriously cheaper than most like it.”

  “Than most, ‘like it’?” Sydney managed to get out. “So, you picked it because it was cheaper than higher-end grills? Denise, that’s like picking a flawed diamond because it’s cheaper than a flawless one!”

  Hoo, boy, she was really getting panicked. “Hey, I got some money in my account if you wanna,”

  Sydney immediately cut me off. “Oh, no you don’t. I said I’d pay for your dinner, so…I’m keeping my word.”

  I had to give her props for sticking to her guns, knowing full well I could drain her dry.

  One of the waiters soon noticed us and escorted us over to an available table. Honestly, I was surprised we could just walk into a place; it seemed like the sort of joint you needed a reservation for, like, four weeks in advance. But here we were, sitting at our four-top with dates sitting beside us.

  “Anyone wanna order drinks?” Cooper asked. “I’d be happy to act as the D.D if you three want something.”

  “Oh, no,” Sydney waved her hands with a nervous laugh. “I’ve had enough alcohol for a while, thanks.”

  That got me to raise a brow. Maybe she didn’t want a repeat of Saturday? It hurt a bit tha
t she still didn’t trust me, but then again, maybe it was for the best she saw for herself if anything happened between us this time.

  “Ooh, I want some cherry saké.” Denise cooed excitedly. “It’s their signature drink—you wanna try some, Scott?”

  Did I? On the one hand, I wasn’t one to pass up a new type of alcohol, especially if I wasn’t paying for it. On the other hand, I, too, wanted to be sober this evening. But, one sip wouldn’t completely leave me trashed, right? And if it did, then, God bless the Japanese for inventing it. “Uh…s-sure. Just a bit, though.”

  “Ah, great!” Denise clapped her hands excitedly together. “Then I’ll get enough for the three of us.”

  At least Sydney didn’t have to pay for that part. Soon enough, though, our chef would be here and take our orders, so I had to get strategic. Immediately, I reached for the nearest menu and started flipping through it, trying to see what the cheapest items were. I snuck a glance over towards Sydney, who was full-on eyeing me with careful disdain. “I can seriously pay myself,” I began. “Your apology to me is accepted.”

  Sydney’s lips stuck out into a pout as she snagged her own menu, burying her nose within. “Don’t make fun of me. I’m more than capable of paying for someone’s meal.”

  I leaned over just a touch, catching her looking intently at the appetizers. She was fully ready to eat scraps to make sure the apology was paid for in full. It was almost…sweet. In an incredibly infuriating sort of way.

  Finally, the chef arrives, slowly going around the table to take our orders one by one. Sydney and I both opt for the actual couple to go first, giving me a bit more time to try and think up a plan. It was actually crazy cool to watch the chef in action. With one of those squirt bottles in hand and a scraper in the other, he did all sorts of cool and flashy tricks, tossing flaming meat and veggies across the stovetop with precise accuracy. The noodles practically flew in the air in-between his spatulas, all dished out in a bowl and slid across for Denise and Cooper’s consumption. I couldn’t help but clap; thankfully, it seemed the socially acceptable thing to do as everyone else followed suit. Even a few tables around us gave a polite pause to applaud.