The Faint Taste of Spearmint

1 | Axe Fumes

"Is he here?" Tara asked as I checked my phone.

"No. He's five minutes away," I said after reading Adric's text.

I kept looking myself over in the mirror — tugging at my hair and smoothing out the bumps and wrinkles in my clothes. Jeans, a graphic T-shirt, sneakers, and a jacket seemed too casual for a first date, even if we were just going to the movies and dinner.

"You look fine," Tara said as she watched me overthink.

I sat beside her wondering if it was too late to cancel the date. I should've been happy and grateful after years of hoping this very moment would come to fruition, but my fears and doubts prevailed. Tara nudged me, interrupting my anxious thoughts.

"Are you sure you can't come?" I asked.

"I don't think Adric would like that. He asked you out, not us."

"But, what if it doesn't go well? What if I humiliate myself? What if I say something stupid? What if I have nothing to say at all? What if I bore him to death? What if this ruins our friendship? What if I—"

"What if I give you a Xanax?" Tara exclaimed. "This isn't anything new for you, Blyth. This isn't a blind date. You know Adric. You've hung out with him tons of times," Tara assured me."The only difference now is you're doing it on a date."

Adric and I had mutual friends, including Tara. We all hung out together, but he and I rarely hung out, just the two of us, which was probably why it took years for him to see me as more than just a friend.

"Aren't you happy this is finally happening?" she asked.

"It's just a date," I said. "It doesn't mean it'll go anywhere."

"Stop blinding me with your optimism." I chuckled at her sarcasm. "And if you really believed that, you wouldn't be so nervous."

My phone pinged, rattling my nerves as I checked it. Here, Adric texted. My stomach felt like a used punching bag. "He's here," I muttered as I left the bedroom for the front door.

"Okay," she said following after me. "Remember to take deep breaths and woosah regularly." We passed the kitchen. "Don't overthink everything—just try to have fun." We passed the living room. "And most of all," she warned as she maneuvered her way in front of me. "Remember everything so you can tell me when you get back — that is...unless the date goes really well." She winked. "Then you can tell me in the morning." I gave her a cold look, flashing my two middle fingers. She, of course, thought it was hilarious. I brushed past her for the foyer while trying to fight away the inappropriate — and scary — image.

"I'm so excited," she sang in an operatic voice, dancing behind me. There was a knock at the door. My heart beat like a metronome at full speed. "Don't keep your future husband waiting—go," she said pushing me towards the door.

"Go away," I hissed. Tara ran around the corner but peaked from behind the wall. I took a deep breath before opening the door.

Adric stood at the doorway with his arm bent midair, his hand balled into a fist ready to knock again. The sun's rays gleamed behind him, electrifying his cool, deep eyes. His jet-black hair was surrounded by an amber aura illuminated by the rays and giving warmth to his sharp, prominent facial features. He looked casual chic—jeans, a thin sweater, a cardigan, and Converse sneakers. I shoulda worn something nicer.

"Hey. You look nice," he said with a warm smile.

The smell of spearmint trailed from his lips. The Axe body spray he was wearing also lingered which disappointed me. I preferred his signature scent—an aromatic combination of teakwood, vetiver, amber, and bergamot. I felt creepy noticing his change in scent.

"Hey, Tara," he said looking past me where Tara unsuccessfully hid.

"Hey..." she said. "You two look dashing together. Don't keep Blyth out too late." She smirked at Adric. "Well, gotta go—y'all have fun. Bye!"

Tara closed the door behind us; we headed downstairs. All was quiet as we reached the parking lot. "I like your shirt," he said as we approached his car. Is he just being nice? I totally shoulda changed. Just say something nice back.

"Thanks... I like yours, too." Wait—does he think I'm checking him out?

"Thanks," he said smoothing out his sweater. He'd always been stylish since I'd met him. With good looks to match, he could've been on someone's billboard if he wanted to model.

Upon reaching Adric's car, he shuffled past me and opened the passenger door. "Thanks," I said, appreciative of the gesture. From inside I watched him walk to the driver's side when the projected scent of Axe hit me like fumes, touching the back of my throat. Did he spray the whole can??? I coughed before he opened the door and tried holding my breath discreetly. Lightheadedness soon followed.

Adric situated himself into the driver's seat. I sensed the smell accosted him, too, because we didn't make it out of the apartment complex before he rolled down the windows. "There's nothing like fresh air on a beautiful Autumn day," he said.

The rest of the car ride to the movie theater was painfully awkward, but it was my fault. Adric tried chatting me up, but I couldn't seem to respond with anything other than "yes," "no," "aw," "nice," or "cool." He eventually gave up and reached for the radio. As the music played, we tuned each other out for the rest of the car journey. We were off to a great start...