We're All Crazy Here, Darling

Date

Turns out, planning a date the day of is a terrible idea.

It was  after school and I was freaking the fuck out because I had no idea what to do for my date with Stacey tonight. James kept on sending me concerned looks from the drivers seat as we drove home as I continued to flip between a movie date or a fancy restaurant date.

Maybe we should ask her?

That feels like a cop out.

We don't know what to do for a first date!!

I tried imagining Stacey in a fancy getup at  good restaurant or maybe a more casual setting, like a picnic. But she looked perfect in my mind in all of them so that didn't help.

"Are you having a seizure?" James joked as we pulled into our driveway.

"Shut the fuck up asshole. I'm having a crisis over here,"

James had the audacity to laugh at my pained expression as we walked into the thankfully empty house, "Dude, stop freaking out. She likes you, I'm sure she'll be fine with whatever you pick for your date,"

I groaned loudly, "But I don't want it to seem like I just came up with something on the fly,"

He raised an eyebrow, "You did,"

He is no help. We're on our own.

"Whatever," I muttered, heading upstairs to brood some more. 

***************************

I finally decided to just go all out and take her to some fancy restaurant downtown that seemed pretty nice from the reviews. I usually tried to use as little as possible of the ridiculous amount of money that Scott and Mary give us access to, but this was our first date. My first date period. I wanted to give Stacey a good first impression.

I texted her that I was going to pick her up around 7 and to dress nice. She replied that she already thought I was hot so I didn't need to try and impress her with my money, making me laugh. Throwing my phone on the bed, I searched my closet for something to wear. Pulling out a dark blue button-down, some black pants, and some nicer shoes. As I dressed, I noticed that the long scar from the base of my neck down to the middle of my chest could be seen through the top of the shirt. I debated putting on an undershirt, but I didn't have enough time to redress since her house was at least a twenty-minute drive and the ride to the restaurant was about the same from there and the reservation was in an hour.

God, why is this so stressful? I'm going to pass out before we even get there.

Hoping to God that Stacey didn't notice or ask about it, I just decided to leave it. I raced out the door, flipping off James as he laughed at my rushing form, and grabbed the keys to the truck only to see that they were gone.

"Where are the keys?" I panicked.

James smirked, "I'm meeting Nicole to go hang out so I'm using them. Take one of the other cars,"

I seethed, reminding myself that there was no Netflix or Stacey in jail, especially if you commit murder, "I hate you, you dick,"

I would have probably hit him if I wasn't about to be late. The bastard probably knew that with his smug ass little smirk. I ran to the garage and groaned. All of these cars looked pretentious as hell and I immediately promised swift and brutal payback to the asshole that is somehow my twin.

Choosing the least flashy of all the cars, I grabbed the keys to the black Jaguar. Even though I hated my parents, they had pretty good taste. I smiled as I peeled out of the garage, making sure to add a squeal of the tires to irritate our neighbors, then headed out to Stacey's. Turning the radio to a classic rock station, I took deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart.