“Nothing, forget I said anything. It slipped.” He shrugs not so regretfully.
It slipped my ass.
“I have gone on dates…” I defend out loud, with this unrequested will.
“I didn’t say you didn’t.”
When I just practically scream with my face, he senses he has to elaborate.
“But never more than one, right? Date?”
I want to argue, but I can’t because he’sright.
I’m seventeen, and I have gone on five dates. With five different guys. It should be great. It wasn’t.
First boy, fourth grade.Hugecrush on Jeremy Rylor. We went out for ice cream on a sunny afternoon in May. It was perfect, until a wasp got near us, he screamed the most high-pitched sound I heard to this day, and like a genius, started to get rid of it with his cap. I got stung.
All the other four dates escalated from there as if that’s possible. Believe me, itwas.
My last date was this March. Blade Topper. He was charming, attractive, andsofunny. His girlfriend thought so too. I got out of that date with an unnecessary slap, and water was splattered all over me.
I got home, and the Wests were over, but I went straight to the room, locked it, and cried. A lot.
“It’s none of your business.” I say, my voice fading a little remembering all those disasters.
I lay back down, distraught and embarrassed by those memories.
How can all of them have failed? Some dark part of me thinks in some way I messed it up. And another part of me repeats in a big neon sign ‘PEOPLE LEAVE’. Either way, it’s not good.
He’s still pointing the flashlight at me, waiting for something.
“Well, it didn’t work out, now leave me alone.” I lay back down, seriously hoping to have some peace.
“I kinda feel like I ruined one of them.”
“Youkinda feel?”
Date number three. Carter Ryleigh. Seventh grade to eighth grade. Summer, beneath the fence at night. He was more of the nerdy type, ideal for me, spending the summer in this town with his grandparents for a while. We were talking about how good the fourth Harry Potter book was, and then two people in Halloween masks and a bucket approached us. Last thing I know, eggs were being thrown, and my date was mad because I knew those bullies, and they said Itoldthem to do this. He fledthe scene before I could even say sorry. I did get my revenge when I hid his video games, and he was miserable for a whole month.
“Okay, it was my fault. Riden’s parents dropped him off during the whole summer and rarely called, and he needed some fun. At the time, I thought I was a genius, but I was a dick.”
I open my mouth, outraged, but then catch myself.
Did Jake West admit he was a dick?
“I may not know much about relationships, but you’re one to talk.”
“Yeah, I know.”
A surprisingly comfortable silence sits between us, and when I finally think he’s gone, he speaks.
“I just realized we both are terrible with relationships. Shouldn’t we prepare or something?”
I hesitate. I know I have to do this. It’s protocol. It would be foolish of me not to set rules and boundaries and stories straight after reading so many books about fake dating. We don’t have to do it all today, but at least set some things straight.
I exhale harshly, closing my eyes.
“Okay, we need to talk about some stuff.” I huff because stargazing just got ruined.
