Nick's Girl

5 | the date

"A date!" Doris cries, "my little Eva has a date with a boy!"
She begins to laugh, pretending to swoon.
I bite my lip, and smile at her. How I am fond of her. In many ways, she is more of a mother than my own mum is to me; or, what I imagine typical mothers to be like, anyway. My actual mum is constantly distracted and distant, and probably wouldn't notice if I were to elope tomorrow.

"I need help, Dor," I confess.

"Help!" the old woman squawks, fully opening her shimmery-blue eyelids, "how do you expect an old bag like me to help you on a date?!"

"You're not an 'old bag' Doris. And, you've met him — what do you think he's looking for?"

"I'll tell you this much: he's got a bit of a reputation for himself."

"In what way?" I ask gingerly, applying more blue shimmer onto Doris's lid.

"Fighting, theft, general trouble-making, things like that..." Doris explains casually. "Nick Hammersmith is quite the player, too."

"Player?" I echo, without thinking.

"Well..." she backtracks, seeing my troubled look, "apparently..."

"I shouldn't have been so silly..." I scold myself. "I shouldn't have accepted the date straight away."

Doris pats me on the arm comfortingly.

"You're overthinking this, love. I think  you should give it a try."

Doris is wise. Although I don't really trust Nick on any level, I do trust my Dor. And if she thinks I should go for something, it's worth a try.
But despite her sage words, I feel unsure. I didn't realise how rebellious Nick was. Now I see the full picture: charming, undoubtedly good-looking, yet rebellious, and a womaniser.

*

I'm meeting him on Collins Street. There is a large market selling trinkets, nuts, fruit —even goldfish in little plastic bags. The arrangement is to meet him beside the canary stall. (A large stall with white cages and literally dozens of squawking birds!)
I get there five minutes early, of course, freshly changed out my Avon uniform, and in a apt bird-yellow blouse and blue miniskirt, and high black boots.

My stomach is doing somersaults. I reach into my bag and spritz some perfume on, as I'm getting an inkling I've started to smell like bird poo.
Not very attractive.

I've not had many dates. Two—three maybe. But I wasn't nervous like I am now. Which is silly because barely know him at all.

10 awful minutes churn by. I even have to ask the canary man what time it is, just to verify that I'm not early or anything. Every minute longer that Nick remains vacant, I feel stupider.

I have to leave eventually. I'm cold, extremely impatient, and feel a right fool.

I adjust my bag on my shoulder, and turn to go.

Through the gaudy, bright colours of the market I drift, past the goldfish in their plastic bags and tables filled with ripe fruit and knitted scarves. I can predict my girlfriends feverishly begging me to tell me how it went with the mysteriously good-looking man. And me, having to tell them how I was stood up.

"I'm so sorry." A voice suddenly breaks through my pitiful reverie.
I look up, and see Nick, almost sweating, in front of me.
Sighing, I try to smile.

"Oh, hi." I say, completely unable to conceal how let down I feel.

"I've disappointed you..." he gathers from my blank expression.

"Well yes, a bit." I state blankly, "forty-five-minutes late isn't fabulously reassuring."

"I didn't mean to be."

"Of course not..."

"No, Eva. I mean it," he scrambles, searching for words, "I had to sort something out for a friend."

The cryptic phrasing of this statement makes me immediately recall all that Doris told me about his "fighting" and "trouble-making" tendencies. Could he be alluding to this?

Nick looks at me, half-pleadingly, but also very seriously.

"You must be hungry. Why don't we eat something? Here, I bought you some peanuts, because, y'know," he looks cutely shy, "I saw you had them in the park the other day."

I roll my eyes, biting my lip, debating whether to give in to the sweet gesture.

"I do like peanuts..." I consider with a smirk.

Nick's face lights up.

"Great! Great. So. Can we - maybe - start afresh, Eva Jones?"

His eyes go all soft

"Go on then, Nick Hammersmith."

Nick grins, and, not missing a beat, leads me back down the circus that is Collins Street.

*

After our date, we take the bus home. Both of us are almost blissful, following the amazing time we had, going round the shops, visiting Hyde Park, and exploring little cafés. And now here we are at almost 8:00 at night.

My father won't be happy.

But I don't care. I've had a brilliant time. Turns out we have a lot in common: practically identical music tastes; same ideas about politics; and, coincidentally, similar family set-ups.
We both have two little sisters. Mine are mischief-makers, Minnie and Dawn. His are apparently very sweet. And, we both have a set of parents who we frankly can't stand.

"I reckon mine are going to divorce." Nick had said incredibly casually, as we flicked through some LPs at a record store.
I nodded, empathising.

"Mine too." I had replied. Without saying anything else, we seemed to just get each other.

That was just one of the moments where we clicked. Found common ground.

*

"Want me to walk you home?" Nick asks, as we step from the bus onto the dark street.

"No, it's alright. I can get myself home."

Nick chuckles. He mumbles something I don't quite catch.
"—What?"

"Independent," He restates, "...I like that about you."

My face flushes. Thank goodness the dark prevents him from seeing this effect.
A silence glazes over for a moment.
Nick and I are suddenly shoulder-to-shoulder.
Our hands momentarily brush together.
There it is — that spark feeling. Like when I touched his face when I was applying the moisturiser.

Something inside of me impulsively acts. My hand reaches out, and clasps his. His own hand accepts mine warmly, intertwining his fingers with mine.
Walking comfortably, we quickly reach the entrance to my street.
"Here we are," I ssay my heart beats wildly in my chest.

"Here we are," Nick confirms, a handsome grin spreading across his face. Our hands break apart.

"I've had a good time." I say, marvelling at his face in the streetlight.

"So have I." He says.

As I gaze into his eyes, so charming and soft, I'm hit with the realisation.

"What's wrong?" Nick asks, noticing my change in expression.
My eyes fall from his.

"...What is it?" He repeats, but gentler. His hand reaches up and moves a hair out of my eyes, but I brush him away.

"I have to go." I say, slowly.

"Hold on now," Nick intervenes, his tone demanding, "You can't just leave and not tell me what's happened. I thought we were having a good time!"
"We were..."

"Were?"

"I'm not going to get caught up in this..."

"Caught up in what? Eva, I don't understand."
"...goodnight, Nick."

I turn, and hurry into the darkness of my street.

*

Hey! How are you liking it so far...?! Let me know, it's really appreciated. Thank you so much for reading, and stay around to find out what happens next X