I Was Saved... by the Jerkface

The Date: Part Two

{Blake}

Cirque du Soleil was amazing. I hadn't done much research on the actual show (I'd just known that Annabelle wanted to go, so I bought the tickets), but throughout the whole thing I was just as enthralled as she was. Well okay, maybe not that enthralled, because she was literally bouncing up and down in her seat from excitement.

I felt a piercing of smug satisfaction go through me, observing her excitement and that huge smile on her face. Knowing that I had caused her to be so dang bubbly.

We stayed in our seats way after the show ended, waiting for the major crowd ahead of us to get out of the building so we wouldn't have to push and shove just to get to the streets.

"Blake, I hope you know how much I love you right now," she said at one point, turning her head to look at me and smile lazily.

"It's a good thing, too. Do you know how much those tickets cost?" I joked with her, despite the effect her words had on me. I instantly regretted ever opening my mouth to say it, because as usual, she jumped at the chance to berate me for spending a bunch of money on her.

"I told you nothing too expensive! Blake!" she fumed, her eyebrows scrunching together. I couldn't help but think – despite the moment, and her apparent anger – that she was incredibly adorable when she got all frustrated.

"What, and you didn't think second row seats were going to be expensive?" I defended myself. "Besides, you didn't say 'nothing too expensive' until we were at dinner before, so technically I wasn't under any orders from you at all." I smirked at her, knowing she would hate it. Also, I was right.

She made a strangled, grunting noise, hating to admit defeat. I honestly didn't understand what her problem was with me spending a few bucks on her. I mean seriously, second row tickets to a show she really wanted to see. She could at least act grateful.

I immediately felt bad for thinking that. I knew Annabelle well enough to know that she was grateful; she was simply uncomfortable with it for some reason. God knew her parents spent money on her all the time. I don't know why it's any different when I buy her things.

Not that I buy her things that often. It's not like I'm loaded here.

I grabbed her by the arm gently not long after that, leading her out of the building and onto the still-buzzing streets of New York City. Not surprising, even considering the hour, because New York is the city that never sleeps.

I still found it astounding, even after the years of living here, how people could live in such a concrete world. Don't get me wrong, I liked it well enough – it was busy, entertaining, and always alive – but I missed the rolling, endless hills of Oklahoma, the stifling heat in the summer, the zillions of stars in the sky at night. Hell, I even missed the hundreds of stupid flies that flew around the house and yard, bugging you to death during the hot summer days and nights. Here, it was nothing but buildings and bricks and cement. The concrete jungle.

I'd promised Annabelle that someday I'd take her to see Oklahoma, and I was fully prepared to make good on that promise. She was going to see something other than high-rise buildings and concrete for once in her life. She was going to see the millions of stars in the sky, blinking down at the little tiny people laying on the grass below, shining from light-years away. When I said she'd probably never seen more than three stars at one time, I wasn't joking – the smog was so thick here you couldn't even see the moon half the time, let alone the tiny stars.

On our slow, comfortable walk back to my dad's car, we passed a cheesecake shop. It wasn't much, just a little corner store, but at the moment it seemed perfect. I hadn't planned it, but I found myself opening my mouth and saying, "Hey, let's go have some cheesecake."