Finally, the two and a half hour rehearsal period comes to an end and we all exit the building, greeted by the beaming sun. Everyone scatters almost immediately, likely exhausted from both dancing and Tita Mel's yelling. Janine catches a ride with Vince and Tita Mel, while Astrid offers to drop Dean off on her motorcycle (an offer that he takes despite his visibly scared shivers). I wave goodbye to each of them before heading to my own car. The only person not leaving is Brennan. He remains at the front of the studio, checking his phone.
"You headed anywhere?" I yell out.
He walks toward me. "Home, I think. I was going to run some errands but the bus schedule is kind of crappy on Sundays. How about you? Any plans for the rest of the day?"
It's almost sad how quickly I sigh. "Unfortunately, I do," I whine dramatically, earning a chuckle from him. "But I could give you a ride if you wanted. It'd help me procrastinate a little."
"I don't think I should be helping you procrastinate."
"Fair enough."
"And you sound like your schedule consists of soul-deteriorating events. Care to elaborate?" he asks, poking my arm.
I flinch awkwardly, to which he laughs again. "I'm going to work now and I'm going to have a s'well time," I say, dripping with sarcasm.
"Do you work at a graveyard or something?"
I press the unlock button on the car key and it clicks open. "No, no. I work at my dad's bakery."
His eyes widen. "Your dad owns a bakery! That's so cool! What's it called?"
I check my watch. Jokingly, I suggest, "You might as well just come to work with me if you're not going anywhere because if I keep talking to you I'll actually run late."
I expect him to give me the "peace out" sign and start walking in the opposite direction (as I assume any sane person would in the event you invite them to witness your work shift) but he shrugs and says, "Okay cool."
"What?"
No Brennan, this isn't 'okay cool'. No, you're about to witness the trough of my appearance. The bakery is where the hair gets messy, the body gets sweaty, and the face gets red from being near the oven half of the time.
"C'mon, let's go! You yourself said that you're running late!" He claps his hands, the typical 'let's go, go, go!' sign.
I probably should have learned my lesson that he takes most-if not all-offers when you least expect him too. I mean, he didn't reject my escort proposal nor this opportunity to see me exhausted in my workplace. It's actually outstanding how many times I wanted him to reject me...
He opens the door to the driver's seat, motioning for me to get in.
"Coleman, I can open my own door, to my own car, which I drive," I point out.
"Chivalry's not dead," he replies, shooting me a charming smile before winking.
Well, it should be.
He closes the door and walks over to the passenger's side. All I can think to myself is, he needs to never wink again because I'm cringing internally and I'm the cringiest person I know.
I start the car and immediately turn on the radio as I back out of the parking space. Successfully this time.
"Okay dude, few rules for the next few minutes," I start, simultaneously checking my rearview mirror.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Rule number one, we do not make fun of my driving." I turn left onto the street, where I am met with a wonderful red traffic light.
YOU ARE READING
The Debut Diaries
Teen Fiction"Wow! Sounds like a lot of fun!" he exclaims and my heart dies. "What did you say?" He cannot be serious right now. He is not supposed to think that this is going to be fun. He is supposed laugh in my face then head downstairs to his group of frien...
