"Is this more than you bargained for yet?"
- Fall Out Boy, 'Sugar We're Going Down'
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My date was an ass.
You could have called animal control and they would have sent him straight to the zoo and put him in the ass exhibit because that was exactly what he was.
Eleanor swore that he was a nice guy, and I believed her, because normally Eleanor chooses nice guys for my blind dates and I’m typically the one that blows it. Of course, she also admitted that even though she was kind of mad at me for not telling her about whatever the hell Louis and I had going on, which was nothing, she said that she forgave me and that my blind date was not a source of revenge.
And, you know what, I totally believed her.
I believed her when I wrestled my way into that stupid red dress that she loaned me and while I nearly blinded myself with some liquid eyeliner.
And then when I got there, my date looked like a decent guy; tall, dark hair, possessed all of his teeth. His name was Alan. Or maybe he spelled it like Allen, I really didn’t know and I knew that it wasn’t one of those questions that you asked on the first date and wanted for it to last past introductions.
And then everything just started sucking.
First Alan (or was it Allen?) wanted to go out for drinks. And since I’m a social drinker (or was trying to be), I agreed. So we drove out to London. Which is, like, an hour in a car. So I’m thinking that these must be some pretty damn good drinks if we’re going that far out of the way for them. And even though I didn’t have an early class the next day, it was already pushing midnight when we made it downtown. When we finally made it to the bar, Alan made me get my door by myself before wrapping his arm too tightly around my waist.
“So, what’s your name again?” he asked after he drowned what could have been his fifth shot of vodka in the last twenty minutes. “Malorie?”
Malorie? How the hell did he manage to get Malorie out of Hunter? The two names sounded nothing alike.
“Um, no, it’s Hunter,” I corrected him politely.
“Right, right,” he nodded. “So, uh, how do you know Eleanor again?” The real question was how did he know Eleanor? He seemed like a real floozy, even for her.
“We go to school together.” At least I hadn’t said anything embarrassing yet.
“London?”
“Um, no. Oxford.” Did she even know this kid?
“Damn. So you’re smart?”
He had bad social skills. And that meant a lot coming from someone like me. “Um, I don’t know?” I answered awkwardly. I was going to need something stronger than a margarita if I was going to keep up with this kid all night. Not to mention that he was going to be hammered if he kept up drinking like that. That meant that I was going to have to drive his car and I’m one of the worst drivers on the face of the earth. My parents can attest to that.
“You know what?” he said after a moment. “Follow me,” he stood up from his barstool and grabbed my hand, yanking me upwards as well.
Because he was stronger than me, which it really isn’t that hard to be, it wasn’t like I had the choice of not following him. And we went up some stairs, which was when I started to freak out a little because I’m pretty sure that we were trespassing. But we kept going until Alan/Allen opened a door and I realized that we were on the roof.
