old friends

take her to the moon for me

'dress nice. wear navy"

the four words clay had sent thirty minutes before he was supposed to pick her up.

what did that even mean? dress nice? how nice? like wedding nice or sophomore homecoming nice? there's a big difference.

god, why couldn't men be specific with their wants?

riley spent thirty minutes trying to find the right dress to wear. why couldn't she just look good in a suit? that would make life so much easier. so, so much easier.

a text from clay let her know that he was waiting out front.

she widened her eyes in the mirror. she wasn't wearing makeup because she didn't feel like going through all that effort. clay would like her regardless, and that's the only opinion that currently mattered to her.

riley felt like she couldn't breathe when she saw clay.

he had tried on his hair, the waves flowing through the brown nicely. his smile was brighter than anything in the entire world. she hadn't expected to greet him at the door, but as it turns out, he did.

a maroon tie complimented the navy of his fitted suit. his dark brown shoes matched the belt he was wearing. in his hand, two navy masks. on the side, crudely drawn on and barely visible in black sharpie, two smiley faces with little hearts around them.

"matching masks!" he said happily, akin to that of a child. he immediately began showing her the smiley face, ignoring her inability to talk, "see, it's like me-well, dream, but i'm dream, so it's me!"

riley just stands there, staring at clay.

he's not wearing the suit jacket, just the shirt, tie, and pants. but goddamn does he look good in it.

he stops talking, looking down at her, a smile still on his face as he raises his eyebrows quizzically.

"earth to riley?"

she just nods, looking him up and down once more.

"you clean up nice." she says weakly.

clay smiles wider, taking her hand and pulling her forward slightly before wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

softly, he says, "you do too."

they end up watching a drive in movie, something that clay had planned out.

the two threw the seats back and draped themselves in a shared blanket that they often tried to steal from each other.

clay brought a thing of chocolate covered popcorn, and they dig in while the movie begins, finishing it pretty quickly. having eaten chicken tenders thirty minutes or so before the movie started, neither are really hungry, but they continue to snack on oreos and other sweets that clay brought throughout the movie.

"are you crying?" clay asks, glancing over at her.

riley shakes her head, the blanket pulled up to her chin, the stuffed bing-bong that he had bought for her tucked under her right arm.

"n-no," she shakes her head, "no."

clay rolls his eyes, reaching over and grabbing her hand. he interlocks their fingers, his thumb gently rubbing her knuckles.

it's nice, comforting. clay always knows how to comfort her, she's not entirely sure how he does it.

"it just sucks because my name is riley," she laughs, wiping her tears with her other hand, "it feels like they're talking to me."