“Oh, nothing. It’s just not where I pictured you’d be living.”
“Where did you think I live?” I’m kind of offended. Does my accent give off a certain vibe? I’ve tried to mask the small country sound I carried over after I left Wyoming.
“I don’t know, somewhere over on the west coast.” He pauses for a second. “You know you’re only like two states away from me.”
“I’m aware of that,” I nod my head even though he can’t see me. “But that doesn’t solve the problem of the date.”
“I told you I can get creative.”
I throw the towel in the hamper beside my nightstand and lie back down on my bed. I yawn and cover my mouth, hoping he doesn’t hear. “How does this creativity fit in?”
I hear a door open and close on his end of the phone. Is he home, or did he just walk out of the gym? This is the problem with long-distance dating. You don’t know what the other person is doing, and you can’t physically see them. I mean, I guess you can with video calling, but it’s not the same.
“Well, I figure we grab food from the same burger place and watch a movie on Netflix while FaceTiming.”
A burger does sound good. “Wait, I thought you said you eat healthy during the season.”
“Normally, yes. A date, though…that calls for a cheat day. I’ll just push harder at the gym tomorrow.”
“We’re doing it tonight?” My voice is high, and a jolt of panic rushes through me. My hair is a mess and my face is horrible.
“You don’t have to get all dolled up,” he says. “It’s a simple movie night. If we were in the same place, I wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t dress up. I don’t need all the glitz and glam. I’m actually a simple guy, despite what they portray in the media.”
Does he know I looked him up? It’s a natural assumption. I don’t know anyone who goes on random dates without checking out the person’s social media. You have to make sure you aren’t dating a sociopath. “Okay,” I drawl. “What burger place are we getting food from?”
“Whataburger, naturally.” He’s so confident in his answer, but…
“What is that?”
“Please tell me you’re joking.” He actually sounds pained that I have no clue what he’s talking about. “They have some of the best burgers and amazing ketchup.”
I wince, “Sorry, we don’t have those here.”
“Fine,” he whines. “I guess any burger place will do. Just know the next time you’re in Texas, we are going to Whataburger. You’ll be ruined for all future burger joints.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Staring at my ceiling, I mentally go through the list of everything I need to get done while I’m home. So much has to be crammed into such a short amount of time, and if I want to get any of it accomplished before this date, I need to get off the phone. “Hey, Bentley?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I talk to you later? Since I’m awake now, I need to get some errands done before tonight. Just text me what time you want to do this thing.” It’s been four days since I’ve talked to him, and while I think I could talk to him for hours, I can’t. Adulting has to take precedence sometimes.
“Sure. I’ll text you later.” I’m about to hang up, but he speaks again. “I hope your day gets better and doesn’t include any more water spills.”
“Bye, Bentley,” I smile and press the end icon.
There’s no telling how this whole distance dating will go, and honestly, I’m a little worried he won’t be faithful. But I have to do what I said. Take a chance and see what happens. At least he makes me laugh. Even if he calls at horrible hours of the morning.
What does one wear to a video date? I feel like if I dress in comfortable clothes… it’s not enough. But, if I put on dressy clothes, I’m going to be uncomfortable. I know he said he didn’t care if I was wearing pajamas, but that feels like I’ll be copping out. This is why I stopped dating after Braxton. Questioning everything from the wardrobe to the makeup and everything after that is exhausting.
A part of me wants to call and cancel. To text him and say I got food poisoning or something. There’s no way he’d want to hang out on FaceTime if I’m “sick”. Scratch that. He’d probably pry my address out of me and send someone with soup and crackers. He may give off this cocky persona, but I know there’s a soft side to him. If I call off the date, I’ll never find out and it’ll eat at me until I can’t take it anymore.
Screw it, I’m going to take his advice and be comfortable. Who the hell dresses up to hang out on their sofa all night? Not this gal. I rummage through the shelf in my closet until I find the perfect pair of yoga pants. Honestly, I should just call them comfy pants because they have never seen a yoga pose. Those paired with an oversize sweater should be good enough. If not, he can get over it.
I slide the sweater over my head, not bothering with a bra. One, I’m at home, there’s no need to wear one. Two, he’ll be looking at my face and this sweater is thick enough that if the phone drops, he won’t see anything. I wasn’t always this modest. Those nights going out with Hazel, I was the life of the party. Heartbreak has a funny way of making you change. Time will tell if it’s for the worse, or for the better. Bentley will either let me down, like every other person in my life aside from Hazel. Or he’ll be amazing. I’m really hoping for the latter. I don’t think I can handle heartache twice in such a short amount of time.
My phone goes off as I’m shoving one of my legs into my yoga pants, and I almost trip as I scramble to the bed to grab it. I’m hoping it’s Hazel giving me a last-minute confidence boost, but the name on the screen is Bentley.
* * *
