I shrug. “Any girl from school would go out with you.”
“Except the one I want.” He reaches for my hands and takes them in his. “Come on, Cassie.”
Pausing for a moment, I take another deep breath. “Okay. But anything mean and I’m not speaking to you ever again.”
His eyes search mine. “I’d never hurt you on purpose. Pick you up about six? We’ll go and get dinner and see a movie if that works for you.”
Despite my wariness, I smile. “That sounds great.”
He beams. “Great. See you then.”
Dropping my hands, he then turns and jogs across the road to his house.
After closing the door, I make my way into the kitchen. The newspaper’s laid out on the dining room table, and Dad’s poring over it, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands.
“So?” Mum asks.
“Tonight at six. Dinner and a movie.”
Dad raises his head. “Have you got a date?”
I nod. “With Patrick Cross.”
He smiles. “So, you’re going out with the school rugby captain.”
I laugh. Like a lot of kiwi men, he loves his rugby. It’s not surprising that this is how he thinks. “I am.”
“As long as he treats you right. That’s all I ask. You’re old enough to make your own decisions now.”
“That means he trusts you not to go out and get pregnant,” Mum translates.
“Dad! It’sonedate. I’m not having sex with him.”
“I’d rather not think about that at all.” He chuckles and goes back to his newspaper.
My face burns, while Mum wraps an arm around my waist. “We trust you.”
“It’s one date, and we haven’t even gone on it yet.”
“It’s best to be prepared.”
I roll my eyes and leave the room. In the hallway, I punch the air and mount the stairs two at a time. While I’m sure things won’t go that far, it will be nice if he kisses me.
When we were eleven, Patrick leaned in to kiss my cheek right as I turned my head and our lips met. We stared at each other for a moment before blushing and going our separate ways. By the end of the following year, our friendship had faded.
I’ve missed the ease between us, but maybe today is a fresh start.
By quarter to six,I’m showered and dressed—a light summer dress as the weather’s already hot and I’m worried I’ll be a pool of sweat with anxiety, let alone the heat.
My long, auburn hair’s scooped back into a ponytail to keep it off my face, and I kept my make-up light but used Mum’s vanilla perfume.
Her scent is warm and comforting, and I’m hoping it’ll help me get through this nerve-racking first date.
“You look gorgeous, love,” Dad says.
“Thanks, Dad.”
My heart beats out of my chest when a tap on the door tells me Patrick’s here.
