7'clock. I was on time. He wasn't. I sat in my favorite booth and waited, spinning Grandma's ring around on the table. She'd given it to me shortly before she passed away, like she knew she'd be gone soon. The simple silver band with three tiny diamonds was my favorite thing.
An old Creedence Clearwater song, "Have You Ever Seen the Rain," came on the classic jukebox. In eighth grade Alix and I would come here on Sunday afternoons, when the place was empty, to drink cherry Cokes and sing along with our favorite songs. We'd put our quarter in, make our selection, and then perform for a room full of tables and chairs. Sometimes the owner, Mr. Ladd, would come out and watch us. I'd get shy then, but not Alix. She's a ham, that girl.
The place buzzed with activity as I slipped the ring back on my finger and checked my phone for the twentieth time. A group of kids sat at a large table with a pile of gifts in the middle and a big sheet cake. Balloons were tied to every chair. Family after family strode through the door, the moms' faces all aglow because they'd been given the night off from cooking.
I thought of my mom going out to dinner with Dean tonight. He hadn't told her about being laid off yet. He'd planned to do it this evening. When he told her about my paycheck, a small part of me wanted to believe she'd tell him I could keep my money. Logically, I knew that was about as unlikely as Dean making his own dinner. It wasn't that my mom didn't love me. She did, in her own way. But Dean was her savior and what he said was law. If he told her they needed my money, then it must be true.
I checked my phone again. Ten minutes late. What kind of guy makes a girl wait for him, especially on their first date? I should have gotten his phone number. I started to text Alix when Nathan slid into the seat across from me.
He smiled at me and it was like someone had opened the blinds and let in the sunshine. "Hey, beautiful. Good to see you."
I didn't know whether to laugh or cringe. "I was beginning to think you'd stood me up."
He reached across the table and took my hand. "Nah. I'd never do that to you. It'd be a crime to leave a gorgeous girl like you alone."
I sat there, speechless, because what was I supposed to say to that?
"I should order our pizza. Combination okay with you?" Nathan asked.
"Um, no onions. Please. I can't stand onions. Just the smell of them makes me nauseous."
He smiled again. His voice came out smooth and soft, "You can just pick off what you don't want, how's that?"
I started to reply, but I didn't get a chance. He was already on his way to the counter. He was probably right, though. I could pick them off.
When he came back, Nathan brought drinks. I took a couple sips of the one he set in front of me. Diet Coke. Blech.
"Most girls I know drink Diet. Figured you probably do too, since, you know . . . "
"What?" I asked, puzzled how someone could assume something like that. I took another sip out of nervousness.
"Because," he said, leaning back in his seat, "you're pretty damn hot."
I choked, literally started choking. He laughed. "You okay? Do I need to do CPR?"
My hand went to my chest as I somehow managed to compose myself. "I'm fine. It's just-I'm not used to all the compliments. How about we talk about something else?"
He leaned forward, his eyes trying to seduce mine. "They're all true, you know. Everything I've said about you. I feel like I've won the lottery. A million dollar lottery."
Now I laughed. I couldn't help it. I held my hand out like a crossing guard trying to protect innocent children from being run over. "Nathan, seriously. Stop it!"
He leaned back, a slight grin on his face. "Okay. Fine. I'll stop. But how will I know when it's okay to start up again? Will you give me a signal or something?"
"How about when you find a Foo Fighters song that you can sing to me?"
He put his hands to his chest, like someone had just stabbed him. The idea clearly pained him. "No. No way. Impossible." He raised one of his eyebrows, looking a little bit sinister. "Wait. I've got it. After you kiss me, anything goes. How's that?"
"Well, that'll probably be a-"
Before I could get the rest of the words out, he leaned across the table, took my head in his hands, and pulled me to him.
The kiss was fast. Race-car fast. But he was smooth. Like he knew what he wanted and nothing was going to get in his way. It was incredibly flattering.
Was it a good kiss? It was too quick to tell. But it was my first real kiss. And the way he looked at me? The way he held my hand across the table afterward? The way he made me laugh as he got up and did a jig to get the pizza when they called our number?
I couldn't help but hope more kisses were in my future.
