The Last Virgin Standing

Chapter 25: Turkey for Thought: Maybe Benjamin Was On the Right Track

First off, I'd like to thank you all for a million reads (and sort of almost two million!) and more than two thousand fans! Please listen to the song on the side. Thank you. So much. Second, I'd like to thank you guys for reading this far because there are a crapload of grammatical errors.

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Chapter 25: Turkey for Thought: Maybe Benjamin Was On the Right Track

Tyler asked me out on a date.

Only, it wasn't really a date because it wouldn't be just the two of us. In retrospect, it wasn't even a date to begin with. In this case, the word "date" was never mentioned. He had asked me to accompany him to his little cousin's birthday party at Chuckie Cheese's. His aunt had gotten food poisoning and spent the last week and half in the bathroom with unattractive waste spilling out on either end.

"That is disgusting," I had said to Tyler when he illustrated—in detail—his aunt's bodily functions. "Don't describe anything like that again."

He shrugged. "I thought girls liked detail."

Needless to say, I abruptly ended the call, and that signaled the end of our conversation.

Later, he texted me and told me that he would pick me up at noon and to be prepared for the "ride of my life." I promptly replied back and told him that there was no way I'd get on his motorcycle again.

It was exactly 12:01 (I looked at my phone frequently) and I was standing uncomfortably inside a building I hadn't entered since Luke's eleventh birthday. I didn't remember much from that party other than generous scoops of Cookies N' Cream and the fact that I didn't have enough tickets to get the prize I wanted. Unlike Luke, I was not particularly talented at arcade games.

For fifteen minutes, I lingered around the area reserved for "Bradshaw" waiting for Tyler. He and his little cousin, who I called Little Bradshaw, strolled in, as if being tardy to his own event was completely acceptable. Given his punctuality, I expected it.

"Charlotte, this is Jake. Jake, this is Charlotte. She's going to celebrate your birthday with us. Is that okay?"

Jake nodded eagerly, a toothy grin spreading across his face. One of his baby teeth was missing and I could see the stub of a new tooth growing in. "I'm turning seven," he stated proudly.

"You are? You're getting old," I teased in an embarrassing, high-pitched voice that only came out when I was around children.

He frowned and stomped his foot angrily. "I am not! Tyler's older than me by"—he did the math on his fingers, which I thought was absolutely adorable—"eleven whole years. And I bet you're old too," he retorted.

I smiled. "Only by ten years."

"Still old," Jake muttered, crossing his arms and scowling at the ground.

"That's not nice, Jake," Tyler scolded. "You should never call a girl old." It was different to see him parental and discouraging the sort of activity that he usually partook in.  

"Why not?" Jake questioned.

He bent down and whispered purposefully loud into Jake's ear. He briefly glanced up at me before saying, "How are you supposed to charm them if they feel insulted?"

Expecting something sweet and non-Fourish, I was unpleasantly surprised by his response. I thought he was going to say something along the lines of "It's rude" or "It's not nice." It was a classic response that I should've seen coming; although, it seemed more of an Ian thing to say than anyone else.

I gave him a look that earned me a smirk from him. "Got something to say, Summers?"

"Don't we have a party to throw?"