C h a p t e r F o u r

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After I scrub all the paint out of my hair, which takes an unbearable amount of time, I finally get out of the shower and change into my "date clothes" - a pair of black jeans and a button down.

"Scott?" I call, fixing my hair in the mirror.

"Yeah?"

"Can you tell me if my outfit is okay, since you refuse to tell me where we're going?" He is in our room a few seconds later, standing close behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist as his chin settles on my shoulder.

"You look amazing, as always."

"But is it okay for where we're going?"

"Yes. Now, I made reservations. Let's go before we miss them." He trots out of the room and calls, "Oh, and bring Lemonade!" I laugh and grab the CD from a rack on the dresser.

"Got it!"

****

The restaurant is nicer than any place I've been in a really long time, and it's a nice change. The lights are dim and quiet, slow jazz music is playing from speakers I can't find.

"How did you find this place?" I ask Scott, looking around the room before settling my gaze on him. He shrugs.

"I think I remember our parents coming here once and leaving us home with our sisters."

"Hmm." I get lost in the blueness of his eyes and just stare.

"Mitchie?"

"Yeah?" He reaches across the table and laces our fingers together, drawing me out of my trance.

"You're staring."

"I know." He opens his mouth, like he wants to say something else, but a waiter appears next to our table before he can.

****

After we order our food, Scott pours me a glass of the complementary wine that was given to us, and then he fills his glass, too. We touch our glasses together and I revel in the ringing sound it makes before sipping at the fizzy white liquid.

"That's really good." I say, looking down into the glass and then back up at Scott. I see him chewing his lip, so hard it looks like it might bleed if he doesn't stop. "What's wrong?"

"What?"

"You seem really nervous?"

"Do I? I'm not, I promise."

"Good. Try your wine." I see a smile form on his lips before he's even swallowed it. "I told you it was good."

"Mhm, you were right." There is a beat of comfortable silence where we are just sitting, staring at each other. My lips curl up in a smile. "Did you talk to Kirstie at all today?"

"No, I didn't have time. I was painting all day, remember?"

"Oh, right."

"Why?"

"I just wanted to ask her something, but it's okay. It's not important." I reach toward my glass, but stop halfway when a piercing sound cuts through the gentle atmosphere and makes me jump. I knock the glass over and it rolls off the table, spilling the wine everywhere. Lights are flashing above the small red signs that say 'Fire alarm'. "Are you kidding?" Scott mumbles, standing up. I follow him and stay close as the crowd of people evacuates the building. I can smell the sour scent of kitchen smoke wafting through the restaurant already, and when I turn to see the doors leading to the kitchen, I see a faint glow of orange in the spaces between them.

****

Once we are outside, Scott is pacing back and forth in front of a bench. The crowd has mostly dispersed.

"What's wrong?" I ask desperately, wanting to know what is bothering him so much. He keeps mumbling to himself and throwing lethal glares at the flaming restaurant down the street. I grab his hand and make him stop moving. "What's wrong?"

"I had it all planned out." he says, running his other hand through his hair.

"What?"

"I-it was gonna-ugh!" He groans and finally plops down onto the cool bench next to me. "I had this whole big thing planned out, and it was gonna go really well. I mean, I thought it was. Hopefully." He sticks his hand in his pocket and looks over at me, as if expecting me to say something.

"Do you want to just go home?" He sighs deeply.

"I love you." I smile and let out a small chuckle.

"I love you, too, but that doesn't really answer my question."

"No, I mean, I love you. I really, really love you." He knits his eyebrows together, seeming to trip over the words he wants to say. I remain silent as he starts to stutter out a few meaningless sounds. "Okay. Let me try again. I love you. I love you more than anything in the entire world. I would die for you, Mitchie." I stay quiet, unsure of where he is going with this, wondering why he is saying this now, on a bench down the street from a fire. "I-the thought of not being able to spend all of my life with you is...terrifying, and unbearable. I don't want to lose you." He pauses again. "I'm no good with words. Here's what I'm trying to get at." He stands up and for a second, I am completely confused, but then he gets down on one knee and pulls a black velvet box out of his pocket. My heart picks up its speed tenfold and my hands fly over my growing smile. "Will you marry me?" I am so awestruck that all I can do is nod. I nod so hard I feel like my head will fly off as I slip down off the bench and onto my knees to kiss him. When we pull apart, he takes the ring out of the box and slips it onto my finger. A thousand thoughts race through my mind, but I can only vocalize one.

"I love you, Scott."

****

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