You can Bet on Me

Part 18 ~ First Date

Maddison
"What?" Cassie literally screamed from the other side of the phone. "You have a first date with the Michael fucking Peterson? I mean, it was already a huge shock that you two were dating. Hang on, I'll be there in five."
"What? No, you don't have to come," I insisted.
"Oh but I do," Cassie replied as I heard some clattering from the other side of the phone, probably her scrambling about to get to my place. "You have no sense of fashion, make-up, or looks in general, Maddy."
"Ouch," I murmured.
"Oh get over it," Cassie said as her voice cut off and all I could hear was rustling and shifting and moving. She really was coming over, and she wasn't going to take no for an answer. I had called her just because I trusted her with this information, but clearly she had other plans. I sighed and looked down at my plain jean shorts and casual blouse – what did she expect me to look like for a first date? Obviously she expects a full face of make-up, I thought, rolling my eyes.
Cassie got to our house in less than five minutes, living just down the street. And when she came, she brought large, fat bags of make-up, clothes, and dresses and even a curling iron.
"No," I said firmly. "I am not putting on a whole face of make-up."
"Not a whole face," Cassie rolled her eyes at my reluctance. "Come on, it's not a lot. Just maybe a little mascara here and there or blush with some foundation. I promise that you'll look great – you're naturally beautiful anyways."
She lied. When I opened my eyes, my face was absolutely covered in make-up. Not just foundation and blush and mascara, but full-on eyeshadow and lipstick rather than the lip-gloss that I preferred. Not just that, but the lipstick was bright red and painful to look at. I ran straight to the bathroom as Cassie literally yelled, "no!"
It was a race to the bathroom – I ran straight down the hall and Cassie chased me. Cassie was more athletic, but in the end, I managed to splash a fair amount of water on my face and wash off make-up before Cassie caught up to me.
"I said light make-up," I hissed. "Look, I may not be a fashionista like you, but I hate make-up as much as you hate your ex." Cassie's ex had been a real asshole – he had this cocky smirk on his face all the time and always made Cassie do things for him. After we finally convinced her to breakup with him, he drifted off and we didn't mention him often.
"Damn, you must hate make-up a whole fucking lot," Cassie laughed, but I could tell her laughter was forced.
"I'm sorry," I was quick to apologise. "I didn't mean to bring him up again."
"No, it's fine. I'm over him, and the best way to prove that is not to burst into tears whenever his name is mentioned," Cassie had really been in love. She was like a lovesick puppy – following him around everywhere like she would die without him, and he absolutely ate it all up with a grin. Despite her words, I could tell that I had struck a nerve.
"I know you're over him, but I'm still sorry. I didn't mean it like that – I just... yeah, I don't really have an excuse." I sighed.
"It's in the past," Cassie replied. "Now let's get back on track. This time, I'll do light make-up for real. I promise, and if I break my promise, I'll let Eleanor paint my nails ugly colours."
That made me laugh. I washed off the remnants of the make-up and Cassie sat me down once again to keep applying the make-up. Once she was done, she had kept her promise. It was light but really 'brought out my amazing features', as Cassie had described. Even though I had scowled at her, she was right – I did love the way it made me look.
"Now clothes," Cassie said the words I hated. I let out an annoyed groan, but she took no notice. She held up some skimpy dresses and I had flicked her arm.
"No way I'm wearing that," I warned. "No dresses, nothing skimpy. Got it?"
"Fine," she rolled her eyes. "At least wear these shorts and this cropped cardigan to go with that blouse you were wearing earlier." She threw me a pair of cute shorts (that I noticed was like, an inch shorter than my original shorts) and a cropped cardigan that was fuzzy and warm. I had checked the weather forecast, and it said that it was going to be hot the entire evening. Plus, we would be indoors, so it wasn't necessary to wear something warmer.
Just as I pulled on the cardigan and Cassie was finally happy with how I looked (after curling and re-curling my hair four fucking times), the doorbell rang. Cassie scrambled to her feet and silently shooed me on, her eyes wide and excited. I rolled my eyes at her but still got up to go to the door. When I opened it, there was Michael. Even in casual clothes, he looked great.
Wait, where did that come from?
"Hey," he grinned. I suddenly felt my heart flutter and I ignored it as I replied, "hey."
It was awkward as fuck, but I wasn't about to say that.
"Uh, you look amazing," Michael's eyes drifted along me and I felt a strange warm feeling inside that he was looking at me.
"Thanks. You do too," I replied awkwardly.
"Let's go?" Michael asked, holding his hand out. I looked over my shoulder back in the house and could just barely see Danielle and Cassie peeking at me from behind the stairs. Cassie had agreed to take care of Danielle while I was gone – but only after I told her it was for a date with Michael. I rolled my eyes at her and she snickered and ran off.
"Sure," I smiled, taking his hand. I closed the door behind me and when we got to the car, Michael opened the passenger seat door for me.
"Since when did you open doors for girls?" I laughed. "Aren't you all 'just because I'm quitting being a player doesn't mean I'll become a gentleman of a slave'?" I added, quoting his words.
"Well, maybe I've changed my mind," Michael replied simply, flashing me a grin. I laughed and got in the car. Michael got in beside me in the drivers' seat and drove off. It didn't take long to get to Central, and it wasn't hard to find the diner – it was easily the flashiest, fanciest diner in the entire street, if not the entirety of Central.
Once again, Michael got out of the car first and opened the door for me. He grinned and I couldn't help but laugh at him. Once we were inside the diner, I realised how underdressed I was. Everyone there was wearing fancy clothes and diamond earrings and such – it made me feel so plain and uncomfortable. Michael put a hand on my shoulder, sensing my hesitance.
I looked up at him. "It's okay," he soothed gently as a waiter sidled up to serve us.
"Miss, sir, this way please," he said, leading us to a candlelit table with two seats. We sat down and the waiter left after giving us menus. I opened the menu and was instantly blinded by the hellish prices. What the fuck? Fifty bucks for an appetizer?
I almost laughed out loud and left the diner, but I knew I couldn't actually do that.
A little while later, the waiter returned. "What would you like to order?"
"Just a Kobe beef with a potato salad," Michael ordered for himself.
"Perfect. Now you, miss?" the waiter turned to me. I scanned the menu, looking for the cheapest thing. But literally nothing was cheap. "Miss?" the waiter prompted.
"Uh... can you... come back later?" I asked.
"Of course," the waiter scurried off the Michael's attention shifted back to me.
"Is something wrong?" Michael asked, frowning. "Do you not like the food they serve here? We can go somewhere else, if you want."
"No, it's not that I don't like the food, it's that everything is so fucking expensive," I replied, making sure to say it softly as to not offend anyone in the diner. Michael laughed.
"You know, you're so right." He laughed. "Come on, let's go to Fergusons'." Fergusons' Fast Food was a fast-food restaurant just down the road in Central and was wildly popular with teenagers and young adults, and I remembered that I used to go there as a young child before Eleanor and Sammy were born and when Danielle was still a toddler.
"Now that's something I can afford," I laughed, getting up from the table. Michael called a waiter and cancelled his order before taking my hand and leading me outside. We piled in the car and Michael drove us to Fergusons'. Inside, as usual for a Saturday, was a huge crowd of people, mainly teenagers, all crowded around tables. We found our way to a free table and sat down, loud chatter all around us.
"Can I take your order?" almost as soon as we had sat down, a waitress came to take our order. Luckily for me, I had a pre-decided order for whenever I came to Fergusons', and so I said, "a medium coke zero, a margarita pizza, and fries."
"I wasn't asking you," the waitress snapped, turning to smile flirtatiously at Michael. "Anyways, handsome, want to get out of here afterwards?"
The waitress winked.
"She's my girlfriend you're talking to," Michael's voice was dangerously low and more of a growl than a warning. My heart warmed that he got mad at someone for insulting me, but I quickly shut down that feeling.
"She is?" the waitress looked me up and down with this disdainful look in her eyes. "Come on, handsome. You could do so much better." She gave him a suggestive look. "So much better like me."
"Damn right she's my girlfriend, and no fucking way would I want to have anything to do with you," Michael snapped back. Looking past the waiter, Michael raised his hand as he said, "can we have a different waiter, please?"
Another waiter came and the waitress that had originally been serving us cast me a dirty look before shuffling away. I re-placed my order and when the waiter turned to Michael, he grinned, "same thing."
The waiter wrote his order down and left.
"You didn't have to do that," I said, turning to Michael.
"Do what? Defend my girlfriend?" Michael's words made my face heat up. "Of course I had to do that. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I just let another girl harass you?"
Boyfriend. That word made butterflies erupt in my stomach. He was my boyfriend. It took me a moment for me to wrap my head around that information, and when I did, I found Michael looking at me with a certain glazed look in his eyes.
For a moment, I held his gaze, my breath hitching in my throat. I opened my mouth to speak several times but couldn't muster so much as a whisper. The only thing that interrupted our strange trance was when the same waiter came with the food. We ate in total, awkward silence, but it was something that I felt could go on forever. Please... let this go on forever.
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