99% Faking It (Dating Dilemma)
Page 16
“That’s not a bad idea.” The waitress came and took our order. Matt and I split a meatball pizza. Nina and West went with sausage and mushroom.
“I’ve never understood mushrooms on pizza,” I said. “They feel like erasers when you bite into them.”
“Have you bitten into a lot of erasers?” Matt asked.
“A few,” I admitted. “I used to chew on my pencils in grade school. Once we switched to using pens, I stopped.”
“Speaking of pens,” Matt said. “I saw something and it made me think of you.” He pulled a small brown paper bag from his jacket pocket and passed it to me.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Just something to show that I know and like the real you,” Matt said.
The brown paper crinkled as I opened the bag and pulled out a pen shaped like Hermione’s wand. “I love it.” I opened the package and tested the pen on the paper bag. The ink was a vibrant blue. What a sweet thing for Matt to do. I smiled at him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad it gets the nerd-girl seal of approval.”
“Suck up,” West said from his side of the table.
Nina poked him in the ribs. “I think it’s cool.”
“Technically, it’s the opposite of cool,” West said.
“Says he who has read all of the books,” I shot back.
“There’s a difference between reading them and collecting fan merchandise,” West said.
Nina rolled her eyes. “Who did I catch looking at the Hogwarts Lego castle online?”
“I wasn’t looking for myself.”
“Right,” I said. “You thought Matt might like it for Christmas.”
“Oh, look. Here comes the pizza,” West said.
The waitress delivered our food so I let the topic drop. It was funny that Nina and I both reveled in our bookish nerdiness, while West was more of a closet nerd. Matt didn’t fall into the nerd category, but he didn’t judge me for my nerd-girl ways and he thought what I did was cute. And I know he bought me the Harry Potter themed pen to make a point, but in the end it was a valid point, so it wasn’t that sneaky. The idea of going on a date with Trey started to seem less appealing.
At the end of the night, Matt gave me a ride home. He parked his truck in front of my house and an awkward silence descended.
“Do you want to come in and see Harry?” I asked because I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“I don’t think so.” Matt leaned toward me and I met him halfway. His lips barely touched mine and then he pulled away. “Good night.”
That was it? Okay. I looked at him. Earlier tonight he’d seemed genuinely happy. Now his expression seemed a little bit tight and brittle. Maybe he was thinking about me kissing Trey. I didn’t know what to say, so I went with, “Good night.”
…
Saturday morning, my mom woke me up with the words, “Bacon, maple syrup, and pancakes will be ready in five minutes.”
Sitting up, I inhaled the savory scent of bacon combined with the sweet scent of maple syrup. “Oh, that smells like heaven.”
I joined her in the kitchen, poured myself a glass of milk, and then dug into the yumminess waiting for me on the kitchen table.
“Woof.” Harry pawed at my foot under the table.
“I don’t think you can have bacon,” I said. “But I’ll feed you.” I grabbed a handful of brown pebbles from his food bag and tossed it in his bowl. He sucked the food down before I made it back to my seat.
“Woof.”
I looked at him and then at my mom. “Are we giving him people food?”
“I don’t think it’s good for him,” she said.
“Pancakes aren’t really good for us, either,” I said. “I mean, they feed your soul but aren’t fabulous for your calorie count.”
“Woof.” Harry chimed in like he agreed.
My mom sat down opposite of me and broke off a tiny piece of bacon. Harry did a furry tap dance as she lowered it down to him. When it was a foot from his mouth, he jumped and grabbed it from her hand like a tiny furry piranha.
“Wow. He’s serious about his food.” Harry turned his gaze on me. “One more piece,” I said. I broke off a corner of my bacon strip and dropped it from the edge of the table. He jumped and caught it midair.
Despite Harry’s intense staring, we managed to eat the rest of our breakfast without giving him any more food.
“So what are you doing tonight?” my mom asked.
I’d already told her about Matt saying we could see other people. “I’m going to hear a band with Trey.”
“And why do you say that with the same enthusiasm as talking about having a cavity filled?”
I poured more syrup on my pancakes. “Guilt. I like Matt a lot, but I feel like I should get the chance to see how things could be with Trey.”
“And Matt is giving you that chance.”
“Hence the guilt,” I said.
“No matter how old you are, relationships are tricky,” she said. “I would give you the when-it’s-right-you’ll-know-it speech, but my life didn’t work out that way.”
“You thought Gavin was the one?”
“He was at the time. Now, when I look back, I realize he was self-centered, selfish, and immature. At the time, I thought we were perfect for each other.”
“And now you love Tony.”
“I do,” she said. “But if I’d met him when I was twenty it wouldn’t have worked. When you get older you see who people are rather than the image they project to the world.”
“So find someone who likes you for who you are instead of who you pretend to be?”
“Sort of,” she said. “It’s probably best if you just be who you are instead of pretending to be someone else, but that’s hard to do. We all have our public personas. I wear Wonder Woman pj’s at home, but I couldn’t dress that way at work and inspire confidence in my clients.”
I grinned. “I don’t know. Some of your clients might think it was fun.”
“You know Matt likes who you really are. Find out who Trey is and see if you can be yourself around him. If you can’t then that should help you make your decision.”
For my date with Trey I tried to pick an outfit that was me, but on a slightly cooler level. It was kind of like wanting to make a good first impression for a job interview. I wasn’t going to be fake but I wasn’t going to break out my full nerd-girl until I’d tested the waters.
A black sweater with blue jeans and black Keds seemed like a good choice. My Harry Potter socks beckoned from my sock drawer. I usually wore them with my Keds. The black ones with owls and Harry Potter glasses on them were fairly subtle and they made me smile.
When Trey picked me up, he looked ultra-cool in ripped jeans, his leather jacket, and a plain white shirt. And of course his hair was awesome. He smiled at me from the doorway, like he was happy with what he saw, too. That was nice.
“Come on in.” I stepped back so he could come inside and do the obligatory meet-the-parent maneuver.
My mom stood in the doorway to the kitchen holding Harry. Apparently, Harry didn’t agree with my assessment of Trey because he was growling.
“Trey, this is my mom and that ferocious beast is Harry.”
“Nice to meet you,” Trey said to my mom.
“Nice to meet you, too. Have fun tonight.”
“Bye, Mom.” When we left my house, Harry started barking. “Sorry about the dog.”
“That’s weird,” he said. “Most dogs like me.”
“Do you have a dog?” I asked.
“No. We have three cats. They think they own the house.” He turned on the radio and a punk rock song blared through the speakers. He must have seen me flinch, because he toned down the volume. “Too loud?”
“Just a bit,” I said.
“I like to feel the music,” he said. “My dad tells me unless it rattles your bones it’s not loud enough.”
I laughed. “Interesting way to look at it.” I hop
ed the band wouldn’t be painfully loud or this was going to be a very long night.
“The Crazy Eights are pretty loud, but they’re playing on the outdoor patio so it should be okay. I was happy to see a band I recognized down here. I was afraid the music scene would be pretty bleak.”
I knew zero about the music scene. “My mom and Tony like to listen to acoustic guitar. Unplugged bands play at the mini-amphitheater in the park every summer. I’ve gone to a couple of those concerts.”
We made small talk, and I was pretty comfortable with Trey. He obviously wanted to be with me. No one had forced him to hang around. He’d chosen me, and that made me feel special, though I wasn’t sure we had much in common.
The restaurant was kind of artistic in its own way. The inside walls were mostly exposed brick. The tabletops had been painted in different colors and patterns. Paintings and drawings hung on the walls like they were on display at a gallery. Once we were seated, I noticed that the chairs were mismatched and so were the plates and silverware.
“This place is pretty cool.”
“I heard about it in art class. The art teacher’s dad owns it. Sometimes he displays student work.” He pointed at the paintings on the far wall.
“Are any of those yours?”
“I wish,” he said. “There’s a waiting list to have your work displayed and some people have been on it for months. My name won’t reach the top until after I graduate.”
“Is that what you want to do?” I asked. “Paint?”
“I love to paint, but I’m not sure it would pay the bills. I think it would be cool to open a place like this. In Chicago there are some restaurants where the chefs make food that looks like art. What about you? What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“I’d like to be an author, but like you said, I’m not sure it would pay the bills. I could see myself being a librarian or managing a bookstore.”
The waitress came and took our order. I chose an eclectic salad that came in a blown glass bowl. Trey ordered a burger. I was starting to relax when the band plugged in for their sound check. The blast through the speakers made me jump.
Trey laughed. “You might be a little high strung.”
“I startle easily.” I was glad the band was outside and we were inside, because otherwise it would have been painfully loud. Even at this level it was difficult to make conversation. So I ate my salad and smiled.
When we finished our food, Trey said, “Let’s go out on the patio.”
Great. Just what I wanted to do…go closer to the loud noise. I nodded and followed after him. He found us a couple of seats on the corner of the patio, and while the band was okay the volume was so loud it rattled my teeth. Everyone else on the patio seemed to be into it, so I smiled and tapped my foot to the beat.
When they took an intermission, Trey said, “Aren’t they great?”
“They’re good.” I excused myself and went to the restroom where I texted Nina. Trey is nice. Band is too freaking loud.
She responded. Put little balls of Kleenex in your ears to cut the sound.
Huh. Okay. I gave it a shot, rolling little pieces of tissue and sticking them in my ears. The noise around me dropped a bit. Hopefully, it would help with the band. I pulled the impromptu earplugs out and put them in my pocket before going back to Trey.
He wasn’t at the table where I’d left him. I had a moment of panic until I spotted him talking to the guitar player who had similarly cool hair but it was streaked black and red. When he came back over he was grinning.
“Do you know him?” I asked.
“He was a senior when I was a freshman. I knew who he was, so I introduced myself.”
“That’s very extroverted of you,” I said.
“I’m not shy.” He reached across the table and slid his hand around mine. “How about you?”
“If you gave me a choice of talking to ten people I’d never met or locking myself in a room for twenty-four hours with a stack of books, I’d choose the books.”
“Really?” He seemed surprised. “I thought anyone who yelled their thoughts to the universe on a Monday morning would be more outgoing.”
“I don’t keep my opinion to myself very well,” I said. “But I’m not chatty.”
“Interesting combination.” The band started up again so we stopped talking. Trey held my hand so I could only slip the ball of rolled-up tissue into my left ear. At least I’d be able to hear out of one ear tomorrow.
Deciding to go with the flow, I listened to the music and people-watched, and had a decent time. When the band stopped playing half an hour later, I prayed they weren’t just going on another break.
Trey frowned. “That was a short set.” He released my hand. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Okay.” I pulled out my cell and checked the time. The band had played for an hour. It hadn’t seemed like a short set to me.
When Trey came back he had a flyer in his hand. “I didn’t want to leave without grabbing the band’s list of upcoming gigs.” He folded the paper and put it in his pocket. “Are you ready or did you want dessert?”
“I’m good.” I didn’t want to order dessert because what if the band decided to do an encore? I’d reached my limit on loud noise for the evening.
When I scooted forward in the seat, my pants leg came up exposing my socks. Trey looked at them in confusion. “Are those owls on your socks?”
I nodded. “Owls and glasses.”
“Okay. Why are there owls and glasses on your socks?”
“I thought they were cute,” I said.
“Must be a girl thing.” He grinned. “Guys don’t do cute socks.” He took his keys out of his pocket without commenting further. “Let’s go.”
We walked together out to the parking lot. Was his comment on the socks positive, negative, or neutral? It was hard to tell.
On the drive home, the closer we came to my house, the more nervous I became. Would Trey kiss me? It was a first date. I’d been on a few of those and not all of them had ended in a kiss. Being the extroverted guy he was, I assumed a kiss was imminent. Did I want to kiss him? I wasn’t sure.
When he pulled up in front of my house he said, “Sorry if the band wasn’t really your thing.”
“I liked them.” I did. “I’m just not a loud noise person.”
“I hope you had fun anyway.” He reached over and held my hand.
“I did.”
“Cool.” He leaned over and pressed his mouth against mine. It was awkward for a few seconds and then not so awkward.
When I pulled away, he was smiling at me. “Maybe we could go on a quieter date next weekend. What do you think?”
Crap. What did I think? I didn’t want to commit to anything so I said, “Quieter works for me. Good night, Trey.”
“Night.”
I exited the car and reflected on my strange evening. Trey was a great guy. I just wasn’t sure if he was the guy for me.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Matt
Sunday morning, I wanted to talk to Lisa. I’d heard that she’d gone on a date with Trey. I needed to know how it went. I couldn’t let her know it bothered me, so I texted her.
Want to take Harry to the park?
When?
I called her. “What time works for you?”
“Why don’t you come over in about an hour?” She sounded like her normal self.
“See you then.” There we go. Nice, short, non-stalkerish conversation. I’d see her. We would have fun. I could figure out what the hell happened between her and Trey. He might have good hair and cool clothes, but he wasn’t the right fit for her. I knew that. I just had to make her see it, too.
When I knocked on her door, Harry barked like crazy. Her mom opened the door and Harry stopped barking when he saw me. Instead he wiggled all over and ran to greet me. “Hey there, buddy.” I squatted down and picked him up. He licked my face and then barked to be set down.
“Lisa will be out in a minut
e,” her mom said.
“In the meantime, you can play with Harry while I finish up the breakfast dishes.”
“Sure. Where’s your toy, Harry?”
“Woof.” He ran over, grabbed his stuffed hot dog toy, and brought it to me. I picked it up and tossed it into the kitchen. He ran, skidding on the hardwood floor as he tackled the hot dog, pouncing on it, making sure it was dead. Then he brought it back and dropped it at my feet. “Who’s a good dog?” I threw the toy again.
“He never gets tired of that game,” Lisa said as she came down the hall.
She’d pulled her hair back off her face in a ponytail, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup, but she looked amazing. “You look great,” I said without really thinking about it.
“I do?” She seemed puzzled.
I threw the dog toy one more time and then walked over to greet her. I pulled her back down the hall a little bit so her mom couldn’t accidentally see us. And I kissed her. She froze for a second and then she kissed me back.
When the kiss ended, she said, “What was that for?”
“I missed you yesterday, and you look really good today.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
Thunder crashed outside. And then it sounded like the sky opened up as rain pounded against the roof.
“Umm…I don’t think we’re going for a walk,” Lisa said.
“I’m good with that.” I leaned in and kissed her again.
“Aroo roo roo.” The strange howling sound froze both Lisa and I mid-kiss. We turned to look at Harry who had his feet on the windowsill. It looked like his fur was sticking out more than usual and he was stiff legged like his entire body was on high alert.
“Is he barking at the storm?” Lisa asked.
“I don’t know. It looks like he’s saying, ‘I’m not afraid of you.’”
“Harry,” Lisa said. “Come here.”
He took his paws off the windowsill and came to sit in front of her, tilting his head like he was confused. “What are you doing?” she asked.
Crash. Boom. Thunder shook the house.
Harry spun in a circle, barking like he was trying to figure out who was attacking us.
“Harry.” I squatted down. “It’s a storm.” He sat but looked up at the roof with suspicion like it might attack us again at any moment.