Nick's Girl

4 | under the blossom tree

Two weeks later

I met Cassie at the beginning of the year. She's taking the same beautician course as I am at college. She, I, and a few other girlfriends from the same course are sitting our bench - I say our because we sit in this spot every day at the same time; it would be extremely weird if we sat anywhere else - having lunch.

We don't have vast sums of money, being regular students with part-time jobs; so we all bring something to share. I, for example, brought a bag of peanuts; Donna brought a bar of chocolate; Heather brought a bag of strawberries; and, finally, Cassie brought left over sandwiches from her job at Café Noir.
It is quite the spread.

"Listen up, ladies," Donna hails, when everyone's quiet, "I have news!"

"Quelle surprise..." Cassie yawns.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Donna takes offence, her glossy black hair tossed over her shoulder.

"It means, Donna," Cassie explains, chucking a peanut into her mouth, "you are an infamous spreader of gossip. It's your hallmark."

Donna pouts, but doesn't defend this statement.

Cassie has more guts than any of us. I love her. She's intense, but I love her.

"Anyway," Donna resumes, "this isn't people-related gossip. It's work related. Think job opportunities...!"

There's a collective shift in tone; we all stand to attention, silent.

"A little birdie told me that the makeup company Pixie is hiring interns for two months. They work mainly in television. They are hiring only six people. And," she pauses, "they are extremely selective."

It takes a moment for us all to come back down to earth. Then we all start squealing and clapping, high on excitement.

"Jesus Christ... are you sure this is genuine, Donna?" I ask.

"Would I lie about the biggest opportunity that's cropped up in twelve months?" she points out.

Big chances like this never land in the laps of first-year students. It's a fact. I can feel my heart racing.

"Hey, just imagine, Eva," Cassie grabs my arm and whispers, "you can drop the Avon job."

No sooner have the words left her mouth then suddenly, a yell rings out across the park.
"Eva!"

We all look round.

"Eva-Eva whatever your name is!"

Cassie smirks at me.

"Who is that?" she giggles, pointing to the figure standing beneath the cherry blossoms.

"I...I don't know." I answer honestly.
I'm also not wearing my glasses, which prevents me from properly identifying the yeller.
The girls are all intrigued.

"Hold on..." I say, retrieving my glasses from my bag.

When I place them on my head, the figure comes into crisp focus.
I gasp.

"What's he doing here?"

"What's who doing here, Eva?" Donna intervenes.

"Whoever he is, he looks gorgeous..." Cassie smirks.

"Have you been hiding something from us, Eva?" Heather grins.

"Girls!" I say, silencing my friends' suspicions. "I'll be back in a moment."
"Oooohh!" the girls all chorus, as I leave them, my cheeks aflame.

Despite the excitement the girls all feel, I, on the other hand, am deeply embarrassed.

"Ah, Eva! Do you know something - you never told me your last name..."

"You say that like we're friends," I hiss. "What are you doing shouting my name for the whole world to hear?"

It's Nick. Nick, the lavendar-lotion man. He is smoking a cigarette and wears a black leather jacket, and a sly (totally charming) smirk.

"You didn't answer my question."

I roll my eyes.

"It's Jones," I snap at him.

"What's the matter, Eva Jones?" He teases, cocking his head to the side, like a puppy.

"You're embarrassing me," I tell him.

He looks askance for a moment.

"Are those your friends?" He points to Cassie, Heather and Donna.

"Yes. Why?"

"They don't look like they find me embarrassing..." he smirks.

He does have a point; they are deeply intrigued with this deceptively suave stranger.

"Why don't you tell me why you're here, Nick?" I say, calming my voice.
Nick grins.

"I'm here, Eva Jones, because you never gave me any of that moisturiser. My skin's been dry for weeks now."

"Looks alright to me," I say flippantly, unwilling to play along with his little game.

"Please, Eva," he begs. "Be kind. This man in front of you has been trying to track you down for two whole weeks."

"What for? Just to shout at me in front of my friends?"

"No." He stops, and delicately touches my hand. "To talk to you. To get to know you."

I look away for a minute, my neck heating up.

"That's nice." Is the only things I can think of to say.

"It's been quite hard, actually, tracking you down."

"How did you find me? Out of interest..."

"I spoke to one of your regular Avon customers." He reveals.

"Who?"

"Erm... rather old lady, owns a budgie... offered me custard creams..."
of course she did...!

"Doris..." I mutter.

"Anyway. I've found you now."

"What do you want? A medal?"

Nick scratches his chin.

"I'd rather have a date" he admits. He suddenly looks very bashful.

My cheeks go pink.

"Would you," he restates slowly, "would you... go on a date with me?"

That warm feeling returns to me. I realise our hands are still touching. Without control, the words escape my mouth:
"I'd love to."

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