serendipity ≫ mario götze

019

        “You always choose the best places, Mario,” I gasp as we walk through the door, “How can you afford this?” It's a rhetorical question. It's pretty obvious why Mario is able to afford these kind of places. It's a big restaurant with chandeliers and all the tables are dressed in white. There are even 4 different kind of forks and spoons on the table and I would never know when to use either of them. Mario smiles at me and we follow the waiter to our table. Mario is a gentleman and shoves the chair back to let me sit down, “This is perfect, but honestly, I would've been okay with a date at McDonalds too.”

        “I'll keep you to that then,” he winks at me as he takes the seat opposite of mine. He looks great tonight. His eyes are still those eyes that I can drown in, and I'm not sure if I can keep it any longer. I want to kiss him. Again. And again. I'm not even interested in eating anymore. I'm too nervous to eat when such a cute guy is sitting across of me, “You deserve this.” I am blushing and I really don't like how I look when I have such a blush on my face.

        “When does Germany play?” I ask suddenly when we are eating some soup in way too chic bowls. I think it's with broccoli but it could also be made with split peas.

        “Tomorrow,” Mario grins, “You don't keep up with the facts, do you?”

        “Definitely not,” I say, when did the World Cup even start?” I ask him.

        “Last Thursday,” he answers. I look at him, perplexed, “You didn't expect that, huh?” I shook my head and I wondered if there were any countries that played that I have heard about, but I have heard practically no one talking and when I was still in Germany, there were flags and it must have been on the TV, but I never bothered checking it out actually.

        “I have heard practically nothing about it,” I said and he smiles and he is understanding.

        “Well, maybe it's because our team hasn't played yet and most of them aren't really interested in seeing countries like Croatia or The Netherlands play,” he answers and he slurps his soup. I chuckle, as it makes such a strange sound. The soup is actually really good, but I don't think I would like to have it again.

        “Hm, yeah, maybe,” I say.

        “You sound so American, gosh, Lilly,” Mario says and he orders some more wine. I am tipsy already, but the wine really tastes good and we haven't even gotten to the main course.

        “I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but I am American,” I say laughing. The waiter takes away our bowls and we get some nice garlic bread on the table. I gladly take one and Mario takes one at the same time. It's one of those awkward scenes in movies where both people take the same item at the same time and then they stare at each other and start blushing and all. It's exactly the same thing now. It's like Mario and I both have some attraction for awkward moments. It's just totally us. And then, at that moment of awkward staring and grinning and chuckling, my phone starts to ring. Again.

        “Lilly speaking,” I say.

        “It's Jared,” I hear a broken voice on other end of the line. Mario notices that something is wrong when I start trembling. It might be a little bit rude to pick up the phone during dinner, I just don't want to miss if there's any important news, you know. What if my grandfather is dying and my mom calls during a date and I don't pick up the phone?

        “Jared,” I repeat, “Why are you calling me?” Mario rolls his eyes when I said the name Jared and he continues eating the delicious garlic bread in front of me.