We didn't go to the city this time, instead of getting on the freeway, Chad began zipping through the backroads out of our small suburban town. I didn't dare ask where we were going. I didn't want him to get mad at my prying, as per usual.
We soon made it to another suburb, only about fifteen minutes from ours. It was the town that everyone went to when the needed to do real shopping and didn't want to deal with the city crowds and traffic.
We hadn't said more than a few words to eachother on the way, but the radio proved to be a nice buffer for once. The streets were slighly busy, but it was a Friday night so I could understand why. The traffice moved quickly though and in almost no time, Chad was pulling into the parking lot of The Cheesecake Factory.
I tried not to look appalled. This was too much. I wanted to say something, to tell him that we didn't have to go somewhere so fancy and expensive. That I would have been fine with a small family-style restaurant, but I thought twice. Chad said he was going to make it up to me, and maybe, for putting up with all of his shit, I deserved a nice date. Plus, I didn't want to ruin the generous, timid mood he had been in all night. Don't poke the bear.
When we got inside, Chad told the hostess his name and we were seated immediately, despite the long line. My heart warmed a little to know that he cared enough to make reservations.
I pondered the menu, searching for the cheapest meal. As nice as taking me here was, he didn't need to spend an arm and a leg on me.
"You are not getting an appetizer as your meal," he said, following my gaze to the first page. His tone wasn't harsh, but it was firm and...caring?
"Well, what if I want mozzarella sticks?" I asked, drawing on the first item my eyes fell on.
"If you really want them, fine," he said. "But please, don't worry about prices or anything. I wanted to do this for you."
It was the kindest he'd been all night. Hell, it was the kindest he'd been all week. I blushed and flipped the menu to the entree page.
"Thank you," I said, sincerely, and decided on the shrimp scampi.
After we ordered I took it upon myself to start the conversation, knowing the date would be miserable if we continued this polite silence much longer.
"What have you been up to this week?"
The question was harmless enough.
"Not much," he shrugged, taking a sip of water.
I nodded, searching my mind for a new topic.
"I spent a lot of time applying to colleges. Have you started your applications yet?"
As soon as I said it, I knew it wasn't the right direction for our conversation.
"No. I'm not going anywhere."
I wasn't going to let this go. We'd talked about this before.
"Well if you did go somewhere, where would you want to go?"
Chad considered this for a moment.
"Out west, maybe," he said, thoughtfully. "I always thought Seattle and Portland were cool places."
I nodded, thankful he wasn't shutting down like I'd expected.
"So, why don't you?"
Chad sighed. "We've talked about this before," he said, folding and unfolding the cloth napkin. "Guys like me aren't going anywhere."
"What does that even mean?" I asked. "You are Chad-fucking-Cohen. You can do whatever you want."
"What if I don't want to go anywhere?" He challenged.
"You and I both know that's not true."
Our banter was interrupted by our waiter, who quickly set down a basket of bread on the table before rushing away to the next.
"I can help you, ya know," I said, more quietly than before. "With the applications."
Chad shrugged. "I'll think about it. My grades suck though, nowhere is going to take me."
I shook my head, not letting him give up that easily. "What about your ACT? What did you score?"
"I got a 28," he shrugged, downing the rest of his water. I choked on mine. That was one point below what I'd gotten and several points above the average student at our school.
"Chad, that's amazing," I told him. "You could go anywhere, grades or not."
He shrugged again and took a piece of bread from the basket. I knew the conversation was over, but not permanently. I wasn't going to let this one go.
Our food came shortly after, and we'd fallen back into our usual, casual, joking conversation. It was nice to have this again. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed his laugh.
When we'd gotten back to the car, Chad opened my door for me.
"Thanks for dinner tonight," I said, clutching the to-go box that held my half a cheesecake slice. "You really didn't have to do something so... extravagant."
"Hey, I've been working a lot lately and wanted to make tonight special. For you."
I smiled at his words. "Has the shop been busy lately?" I asked.
"Oh, um.. yeah. Lots of oil changes."
I nodded, buckling my seatbelt and making a mental note that I was probably due for an oil change soon. The ride back to my house was pleasant. The radio played unusually softly in the background and we'd returned to our regular jokes and banter.
When we got back to my house, Chad told me to stay in the car, walking around to open my door once again.
"Well aren't you a gentleman," I said in a voice resembling a 19th century debutaunt.
"Well of course, madam," he played along, leading me to the front door.
"Really, Chad. Thank you for tonight."
"Does that mean I get a second date?" His eyes sparkled hopefully.
"Only if you ask nicely," I teased him, pulling my jacket closer around my torso.
"Arabella Roy, would you do me the honor of going on a second date with me?"
I giggled and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
"Maybe," and with that, I pushed the door open, leaving him stunned on the front porch.
