Strawberries & Cigarettes (Shinichiro x Reader)

III

Baby

"Woohoo! You're great at this, Mitsuya!" I exclaimed, happy for him.

Mitsuya removed his helmet and said, "You're so happy, huh?" he asked. I just rolled my eyes at him. "We're just on the same page which is the second place. I need to practice a lot, unlike Shinichiro who's so good at this, that's why," he added.

Yeah, I can see that he's good and veteran in this game.

"Nah. For me, you're the best!" I cheered.

He smiled and said, "Thanks."

I also congratulated Baji even if he placed fourth. He did well, though. He gave his thanks to me.

"What about me?"

I was startled when I heard his voice from behind. Why does he like showing up from my back?

"Oh, Shinichiro?" Mitsuya in front of me, asked. He moved closer to me and whispered, "Didn't know you two are close. Care to spill some tea?" He raised his brows up and down motion.

"Shut up, " I whispered back.

I looked back at Shinichiro who's standing with his hands on his hips, waiting for my answer. I gave him a fake smile and said, "I don't want to."

I told Mitsuya that I'll be leaving already. He insisted to convoy me to my house but I'll be fine and said no, luckily, he let me go.

When I got home, I received a text from an unknown number.

Unknown Number:
Good night. :) Btw, save my number.

What the hell?

Me:
Who's this? And where did you get my number?

Hours passed by and the person didn't reply. Maybe it's a wrong send. I shrugged it off and took a shower before I went to sleep.

I woke up late this morning, it's already 10:30 am. The sun is already way too hot 'cause it's summer.

I have no class since today is Saturday. I can have my alone time.

I cooked my brunch and after eating, I decided to clean my room.

I live with my parents but they're not always home because the two of them always got work— meeting here and there. Most of the time, they're out of town or either out of the country. I'm fine with it at first because I understand they have to work hard for me, but seeing some families while driving back home or to school makes me jealous. Their big smiles are evidence of the word "home".

I was 10 years old when I and my parents had that kind of bond and fun. We eat at restaurants and they'll get me pasta 'cause that's my favorite. They gave me time to play at the park with the kids and make friends with them. I even remember my mom came running to me when I got stumble by the other kid. The worry on her face is evidence that she cares for me. My dad came to us and carried me because I got my ankle sprained. He always makes me laugh to suppress my cries. I miss them.

My reminiscing fade when I heard my phone chime.

Unknown Number:
Don't forget our date this 7 pm. ;)

Realization hit me. This asshole, where did he get my number?

Me:
I'm not coming.

Unknown Number:
You better be.

I groaned and threw my phone on the bed. Damn, this is getting on my nerves.

It's still 1 o'clock, I still have time to prepare.

Wait.

What should I wear?

To be honest, I've only gone on date once and that was years ago. And for the record, I was in my fresh teen years at that time so I don't know how dates work and how they should be or what are the things to do in that situation.

I opened my cabinet that's full of dresses. I sighed. I forgot that my wardrobe is full of outfits for the funeral— it's all black!

My eye caught a silky black dress. I got it and removed it from the hanger. This dress was a gift from my friend before she died. I cherished it so much.

The dress is not too long. Probably, few inches below my knees, it has a slit from the left side, and it's backless. That'll do. I also got my black stilettos and black purse.

I don't want to go to the supposed "date" but I don't want to disappoint him either. I have no other choice here but to grant his wish. After all, this is just a dare.

I took a bath, blow-dried my hair and styled it, put on some makeup, and put on the dress. I texted him that I'm ready to go but he didn't reply. Maybe he's on his way.

Or maybe not. 1 hour has passed and he's still not here. I keep on checking the clock and my phone because he might text or call me.

Me:
Hey. Are we still going? 'Cause I'd be glad if not.

That was a lie. I put the effort into preparing, and he is just going to ditch me?! No way in hell!

After 20 minutes, my phone chimes.

Unknown Number:
Outside.

I sighed and took my bag. I opened the door and saw him, leaning on his motorcycle. Hands were in his pockets, the two helmets each on his side, and his eyes staring at me intensely.

Wait. Motorcycle?!

"What took you so long?" I asked. I glanced at his motorcycle. I didn't know if that is the bike he used yesterday. I can't recall.

"So, you've been waiting for me?" he asked back, smirking.

"Oh, isn't it obvious, Mr. Perfect?"

My eyes went to him. He looks dashing. He's wearing a white long sleeve polo paired with black slacks and derby shoes. His hair is properly fixed and he smells like cigarettes along with the fresh aroma of mint.

"Stop calling me that," he told.

"But I want to," I raised a brow, a smirk on my face— teasing him.

"Okay. Whatever you want, baby."

I gulped.

"Stop calling me weird names," I stated.

He put on his small helmet on mine and locked it.

"But I want to," he mocked.