Teenage Dirtbag

Ch. 7

The following few days leading up to the official big date night went quickly. Each morning I would get out of my mom's car and walk up the step's to Marcel who was always waiting for me with a smile on his face. We would walk to each class together, bumping into each other, the backs of our hands brushing against one another.

            That first morning he looked at me like he was waiting for me to attack him again, and as much as I wanted to; I refrained. For a first kiss, that one was pretty amazing, but unless he planned on making the first move, I was waiting for Friday night.

            Friday morning when I arrived at school I saw that he had finally gotten his replacement glasses, and I couldn't decide if he looked better with or without them. Figuring I needed to see him each way with out a black eye.

            Through out the day we took turns stealing glances at each other, I assumed we were each thinking of what the night would entail. We still hadn't figured out what we were seeing, but at this point, I didn't even care. All I wanted to do was spend more time with him. Tonight we wouldn't have to worry about his father coming home, or me having to catch a ride. It would just be us.

            I think our fellow classmates were beginning to see something was happening between us, because if they didn't stare at us before, they certainly did now. I had grown accustomed long ago to being the topic of conversation, and while I knew Marcel had been the butt of many jokes, I could tell he didn't like being a conversation piece.

            At the end of the day Marcel stood by my locker while I stowed my backpack away for the weekend. "What time should I come get you," he asked as I closed my locker.

            I couldn't help by smile as I answered, "well your Dad get's home at six right, just come right after, I can be ready anytime."

            "So six-thirty?"

            "Six-thirty sounds perfect," I said as we walked towards the front doors of the school.

            "I'll be there," he said as he stopped us just before we reached the doors, a wide grin on his face.

            "Don't be late," I warned jokingly, hugging him quickly before he opened the door and we made our respective ways home.

            As soon as I arrived home I ran upstairs and jumped into the shower. The entire way home I could tell my mother was itching to ask me about Marcel and our upcoming date, but it just wasn't something I wanted talk to her about. Thankfully she didn't try to push the subject. After washing my hair, shaving my legs and arms and making sure my teeth were adequately brushed; I wrapped a towel around my body and my hair and stood in front of my closet.

            Again I was torn at what I should wear. A dress looked like I was trying too hard, jeans not hard enough. And I didn't shave my legs for nothing. I wondered for a moment if jean shorts would look to careless, but again, I didn't shave my legs for nothing. Putting on a white tank top I found a deep purple t-shirt that hung off my left shoulder to wear over it. It looked casual enough, we were only going to the movies after all. After doing my hair and make-up I even put in a pair of earrings.