20 Dates

[date 3: vincent celino]

For my late night date with Vincent, Val decided to ditch my casual look from my date with Ben and put me in something more mysterious. I change into a maroon crop top, dark jeans that hug my curves, and high heeled black boots. Val messed with my face with a series of different makeup brushes. It took a while, probably because I kept sneezing from the pungent smell of his cologne, ultimately making Val screw up my makeup and have to redo it. However, when he finally finished, my smokey eyes looked amazing.

"You're so talented, Val," I say as I look in the mirror, fluffing my hair that was luckily still in loose curls from earlier today. 

"I prefer compliments that I don't already know," 

"Well jeez okay," I mumble awkwardly.

"I'm joking Harper," Val chuckles with a roll of his eyes. 

I check my phone for the text from Vincent. I still haven't received a text from him so I don't know what to expect. For all I know, he could be dead.

However, it is almost 8:00, the time of our date, so I head downstairs anyways. I wave goodbye to Val and sit outside on the front steps. The air is warm and it is still a little light outside. The breeze ruffles the palm trees' leaves and keeps me cool in this heat.

I sit there waiting for Vincent for approximately fifteen minutes until finally a dark green motorcycle comes to a stop in the driveway. A guy gets off the bike and stalks over, his helmet tucked under his tatted arm. 

"You must be Vincent," I deadpan, slightly irritated that he showed up late. Apparently he's a trouble maker too, considering he obviously left the guys' floor before meeting me. 

He nods and hands me his helmet to wear. I take it reluctantly. 

"Don't you need a helmet?" I ask, worried. Even though this boy was late, hasn't said a word, and is still a stranger to me, I still care whether or not he dies in an accident.

"Nah," Is all he says to me with a small smirk on his face. He's beautiful with a strong jaw, icy blue eyes, and chocolate brown, almost black hair. 

He leads me back over to his bike, shaking me out of my thoughts. 

"So what made you late?" I ask as I get on the bike behind him. 

He picks up my hands and places them around his waist, "I was out."

"You don't talk much do you?"

He shakes his head, starting up the motorcycle. I let out a small shriek when it suddenly jolts forward. He speeds out of the driveway and down the street. I clutch onto his shirt, mostly because I don't trust him yet and he seems pretty reckless. Whenever I used to ride my dad's bike with him, I wouldn't need to hold on to him. But this boy is riding this motorcycle like he's being chased by the cops, so I hold on just in case.

Vincent seems a little odd so far. Not odd in a bad way, just odd in a mysterious way. The fact that he barely talks is part of the reason why I feel myself drawn to him. I want to get him to talk more to me over time so I can get to know him better. That is, if he lets me. 

Unfortunately, the bike is too loud to talk to him without yelling in his ears. So instead of asking questions, I just enjoy the ride, left to wonder where he is taking me.

We race down a back road through some woods. I smile from the adrenaline rush of riding motorcycles. Vincent points a finger to our right at a clearing in the woods with an amazing view of the sunset. 

It's a spectacular blend of pinks and reds. Probably one of the most beautiful sunsets I've seen in months. The view doesn't last long before trees block the clearing in the woods and we're back in the shade.