Catalina Flores, or Cat, is your average university student. Among school, work and family life, she barely has time for a boyfriend, specially not after her last train wreck of a relationship. Her friends find it amusing to give her a dare. Fairly...
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"So," Catalina whistled, looking around at the towering and looming skyscrapers around them, "why again did you think it was a good idea to go sightseeing in the city?"
"Because," Jae pulled out his cell phone from his back pocket, poking around in it to try to find the best setting for a good photo shoot, "that's what my parents think I do...They always think I'm off exploring or something when I say I'm on a date."
"Are you ever on a real date?"
"No," he scoffed, "I don't have time for that, but I think you already know that."
She hummed in agreement and then walked in front of the monument that sat in the middle of the two busy streets. "So, selfie? Picture? What're the beans?"
"The what?"
"The beans? Like—you know what, never mind. What are we going to do?" She rephrased.
"We need to ask someone to take a pic for us," he answered.
"Easier said than done," she muttered under her breath as she stared out at the rushing people. "It's a work day, do you really think people would want to stop to take a picture for two idiots?"
"Well," Jae sighed, "if we could just find another couple, I'm sure they'd help us out."
Catalina sat down on the ledge of the bronze statue's base, swinging her feet and leaning back. "Ugh, ew, it's so hot," she cried as she fanned herself, eyes squinting at the intensity of the late summer sun. The afternoon was suffocatingly humid and it made her recoil in disgust as she could already feel the sweat forming on her brow, she wished to run back into the cool breeze of Jae's car. "It's hotter than the pits of hell right now."
"You do know that hell is thought to be freezing cold, right?"
"Oh shut up, I'm dying here."
"You're not the one that got all dressed up."
"Yeah! Remind me again why you would wear a sweater on a scorching hot day?"
"Unlike you," he wrinkled his nose, "I have some sense of fashion and think dates should sorta be fancy."
"Excuse me," Catalina gasped, "Clearly you've never been on a date before. From the many boyfriends I've had—"
"You mean two?"
"What? I've had three. And how did you—"
"Madeline told me you had two real ones and the third one was communist, somehow that doesn't validate him?"
"I'm gonna kill Maddie," she growled, "Anyway! That's off topic! What I've learned is that you don't need to be so fancy."
