Rewired

Chapter 9: Operation Charmander Rescue

     By the time I pulled up to the  entrance of the Ohio Valley Mall, I was pretty excited. Sammy hadn't exactly called this a date, but let's get real. Meet me for dinner at 7:30 was pretty clear. In the hour that it took me to decide what to wear, I had decided on a short, black dress with a silver belt around my waist, and a pair of wedge heels. My hair was straightened and was falling down my back, lifted by the spring air that was blowing as I clicked up the asphalt. It didn't take me long to find Sammy, looking irresistible as ever, sitting by the large play area that was set back a few hundred feet from the front door.
     I caught a glimpse of him before he realized I knew he was there, an unrecognizable look on his face. Knowing that he hadn't seen me yet, I walked up behind him, very carefully. I leaned over his shoulder, grabbed him by both arms. I gave him a hard shove before jerking him back.
"Saved your life!", I said in a low tone, as the confusion in his eyes turned to recognition.
"Seriously?! What the hell is your problem?! You can't just walk up to somebody and grab them like that!", he said, anger flashing in his face. I recoiled quickly. Smooth, I thought, piss him off before you even get to the pizza place.
I held both my hands up in surrender, taking a step back. Was he seriously this mad? What kind of psycho was I crushing on? "I'm sorry! I was just playing!"
The angry look started to falter, giving way to his contagious belly laugh. Sammy had the kind of laugh that made you giggle harder than the original joke did. "Relax, Marielle," he said after a gasping breath. "I'm just teasing you."
"You scared me, you jerk!", I shot back with a look that said you're ridiculous. Sammy responded by pulling me in for a hug. As we broke, he lifted my head to his and placed a deep kiss on my lips. I'd be lying if I said it didn't stir up all of the same butterflies from the night of Layla's fire.
"Pizza?", he gestured toward Fabio's as if it was no big deal that I was blushing tomato red in the middle of the mall. I brushed my hand through my hair, and as we headed toward the restaurant, I slipped my fingers in between his. I could get used to this.
Fabio's pizza was a small, Italian place that occupied the corner next to the entrance to Macy's. It's brick and glass front opened up to a long counter, filled with everything from traditional pepperoni, to chicken, white pizza, calzones, you name it. Tony, a late middle aged Italian man with dark hair and a serious demeanor, stood behind the counter as we walked up. The rest of the place was full of red booths and Formica topped tables, with vinyl brick and a general Italian atmosphere.
     "What can I get for you?", Tony asked, sitting down a fresh barbecue chicken pizza. The aroma hit my nostrils almost instantly and made my mouth water.
     "That looks good to me!", I gestured toward the pizza.
     "Everything on it for me, and two bottles of pop", Sammy added.
     Tony rang us up, while Sammy fished in the small soda cooler for a couple of Code Red Mountain Dews. Tony handed us the red tray in just a minute, and we settled into a booth toward the middle. There were a couple of kids from our high school sitting near the back, and a mom was cutting up pizza for a little boy who looked to be about two toward the front of the restaurant.
      "How'd you know Code Red was my favorite?", I asked.
      "You drink it after every race," he replied flatly with a smirk, "and in pretty much any class we've ever had together".
     "Wow, stalker much?", I accused in a joking tone.
     "Just incredibly observant", he mused.
     "And incredibly creepy", I joked, kicking him under the table. He flushed slightly at that.
     "So, where's my Charmander?" I asked, changing the subject.
"If I give it back now, how do I know you won't take off?"
I thought about that for a minute. To tease him, or not to tease him? His beautiful green eyes swam with a playfulness that I could imagine would still be there long after he'd turned into an old man. I knew I felt something strong for him already, but I didn't want to scare him off. Damn, do I wish that I'd said what I meant then. I missed my chance on that. Instead, Id settled for something stupid.
What I should have said is because I think if I left now, I have a feeling that I'd be missing out on something great. What actually came out of my mouth?
"You know I wouldn't leave because then I'd be wasting half a slice of pizza".
     "Oh, really?", he asked, flicking a piece of pepperoni at me. Our eyes met across the remnants of our pizza, and I didn't know what to say for a minute. I was simply captivated, letting the business of the pizza place run into a blur while I focused on the lips I had kissed in a driveway over the summer.
     Sammy reached for my hand across the table, placing my small, orange stuffed animal keychain into my hand. He looked like he was contemplating something, but I couldn't tell what exactly he was thinking about.
     "Here's your Charmader," his face relaxed, "mission accomplished?"
     "I'll report back to the Pokemon authorities that he is safe and sound", I replied.
      We joked around for a while, picking at the rest of our food, but not really eating anymore.
"So you stole my Charmander and held him ransom for a date", I recounted.
"Who said it was a date?" Sammy teased me. I flushed at that. He never actually had said the words this is a date.
    "Ummm, well,..." I couldn't really think of an explanation. I saw the mischief break back into his eyes.
     "Did you want it to be a date?" Sammy asked.
     "Did you?"
     "Well, kind of," Sammy mentioned, "You see, I didn't hold that Charmander ransom for a date. It was so he could deliver a note."
     I noticed a white slip of paper attached to my keychain. I had been so caught up with the feel of Sammy's hand in mine that I hadn't noticed it earlier. I slowly unfolded it, and in a neat scrawl, the word prom was placed with a question mark.
     "Same day as regionals," I reminded him.
    "My events are early on. You?"
    "Late in the day".
     Sammy smirked at me, his trademark mischief coming over his face. "Then you'll have to run a PR."
    "I guess so", I replied, matching his flirty tone.
    "So is that a yes?", Sammy asked me.
    "That's a hell yes", I said, smiling.