I'm sitting in my car outside the Olive Garden. That's right, the Olive Garden. Kade's inside on a date with some girl that he found on tinder. Now, I don't really trust this girl. I feel like she'll hurt him. For context, Kade has been on 4 first dates this week, all of which have ended up with the girl leaving early, her calling a friend as an excuse, her ghosting him, the list goes on. It's so shameful, Kade's so sweet and he doesn't deserve that. So, I sit in my car outside the Olive Garden waiting to take him home.
After a while, the front doors swing open and a girl in a nice dress and heels storms out. She doesn't even look back, and she looks pissed. Kade rushes out after her holding a bouquet of flowers, trying to get her to come back. His attempt is feeble, and she gets in her car and drives away in an instant. Kade throws the flowers on the ground, stepping on them as he walks frustratedly out to my car.
I unlock the door, and Kade throws it open.
"God damn it!" he yells, throwing his arms up and flashing two middle fingers to the sky. He gets in the car and slams the door hard, struggling to buckle in as his hands shake. "God fucking damn it, Miloe!"
"What happened?" I ask softly, trying to keep him from getting too worked up.
"I thought things were going well, and apparently she didn't. She was hung up on a past relationship or something, I don't fucking know. She stormed off. I got her flowers and everything, held all the doors. Look at me. I'm wearing fucking makeup, Miloe. For nothing." Kade puts his hands on either sides of his head, looking like he's fighting tears. "It's fine, just drive." So, I do. Once we're on the highway, Kade turns away from me to stare out the window. He puts in his AirPods, and I can hear Crawling by Linkin Park blasting in them. But, you know what? It's okay if he's a little bit of a loser. I still appreciate him.
Once we get home, Kade slowly gets out of the car. He trudges up the driveway, slowly climbing the front steps and unlocking the door. He walks into the house, retreating upstairs immediately after aggressively kicking his shoes off and sending them flying across the living room.
"Kade," I sigh, following him up the stairs. When I get up there, he's curled into a ball on his couch.
"I'm going to kill myself," he mutters, his posture wrinkling his dress shirt.
"Kade, no." I sit next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and holding him close.
"Why do you stay with me?"
"What do you mean?"
"I'm moody. I'm a bitch all the time, and I obviously have some internal problems. Yet, you still put up with me. Not even random pretty girls on tinder will give me a second chance, and you me given me a million. Why? I don't deserve that."
"Because, Kade, you do deserve all that love. You're a great guy, you know. I don't know why all these girls keep passing you by. I wouldn't ever do that."
"I know." Kade sighs, leaning into me.
"Hey, I have an idea!"
"What's your idea?" he asks, nervous. It's not often that Kade approves of my ideas.
"A practice date! We could go out and do something, and then we could see what's really happening and why all these girls keep leaving."
"Rude!" Kade scoffs, laughing. "But, that's not close to the worst idea you've had. Let's do it."
"Cool. How does tomorrow at 5 sound? I'll pick you up and we can go get food. Sound good?"
"Absolutely. Where do you want to eat?"
"Up to you."
"Uh, okay. Let's go to Fairway in Lynden."
"Good choice! I'll pick you up here tomorrow at 5. I have to get home, it's getting late."
"Oh, okay. See you tomorrow, Miloe."
I get up to go, and Kade stops me.
"Wait, Miloe?"
"Hm?"
"Thanks for helping me."
"My pleasure. See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow!"
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Time jump
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The next evening, I'm all ready for my practice date with Kade. Well, it's a practice date for him. It's real for me.
Picking out an outfit takes forever, naturally. I want to make Kade feel comfortable, and he probably wouldn't be comfortable if I was overdressed. So, I put on a pair of oversized jeans that are worn out just to the point of being comfortable, a Motley Crue shirt that fits me just right, and my beaten-up Converse that look like they've survived both World Wars. Pairing everything with an old hoodie pulls it all together nicely, my outfit casual but still nice to look at. My makeup is just as simple; a little blush and highlights with some mascara and eyeshadow, and, my signature, a flick of eyeliner. My hair is a messy in some places, so I do my best to tame it with a curl cream, but it decides to do its own thing anyway. I decide to let it, hoping that it will take care of itself.
