The Date

Hey Journal,

The date night has come around fast. I thought I had enough time to suck it up and be a bag of candy, but I am practically sitting in bed dreading the next couple of hours. Last week, I had a bottle of Passion Pop to sooth the nerves whereas tonight, my sexy sidekick won’t be seen in between my mitts.

Maybe Sandra was correct. Maybe I am not ready to be sophisticated and chill with Scooby. Sandra has had plenty of experience with boys (and men, that one guy she met while leaving the movies with me. Can’t remember his name but golly, he was a good looker) but me, I have had zilch experience.

My jokes are lame. I’ll get to the punchline in about 50 years, and he would have gone dry by the wait. Scooby, is at least, nineteen. Why is he hanging around scoping out seventeen-year-olds? I know it’s only 2 years but 2 years a giant gap between someone in high school to someone starting out at university.

He’ll be here in 45 minutes, and I haven’t even stood under the faucet yet. Do I just cancel? Then again, if I cancel, Sandra will find out and I wouldn’t live this shit down.  I throw on some music and start getting the vibes when Chris Brown started serenading my bedroom. Maybe Scooby can serenade me with this song one day. In case you’re wondering its, With You. The song is bopping on the radio, now. Most of Chris Brown’s songs are hitting the spot, on the radio. He is a babe though – bad boys that dress nicely in the streets.

I push back the covers and pick up my hairbrush. I could always just pretend (like millions of other girls out there) that he is with me on the bedroom floor rug singing for me. Every girl can dream. Scooby could be my Chris Brown.

With you, with you, with you, with you, with you

There was a knock at the door and mum’s standing there, arms folded, leaning on the doorframe.

“Are you ready?”

“Nearly,” I shrug, as I throw my hairbrush into the pillows. How embarrassing! I’m half-naked and mum’s standing there, tapping her feet to Chris Brown’s song.

“Better hurry up. Can’t keep the man waiting,” mum said, closing the bedroom door behind her.

Yes mum, no you can’t. The sooner I get dressed and out of your hair, the sooner I will be freaking over how to make Scooby happy.

Phone vibrates. I look down at the message received. It’s Sandra. I can imagine the crappy tone attached to this message as I click on the message.

Hey hun. Stay safe tonight.

No best of luck, just a jealous message.

I respond with; thank you :)

In your face, Sandra.

Scooby arrived bang on schedule. I was ready, staring at myself into the mirror, prepping myself saying I can do this. I wasn’t going to back down and make Sandra think I couldn’t go ahead and give her the satisfaction that I am just another loser under her.

“Hey Quandie,” he said, as I slipped out of the front door.

I could see mum peeping out of the side window. She tapped on the window and waved at Scooby who returned with an awkward salute. Thanks, mum.

“Sorry,” I said, trotting down the stairs. “She’s a bit extra.”

“Cute,” he said, being a gentleman and opening the door for me. “Movie starts soon but we got enough time to get some treats, if you like?”

“I’m pretty flexible with whatever we do,” I said, trying to sound chill as. What if he thinks I’m boring.

“Treats it is,” he decided for both of us.

The car ride was a little awkward. Alcohol does a lot for one person when they are a shy person like me. I feel like we share nothing in common so why did he choose me over Sandra?

“Why did you choose me over Sandra?”

Scooby looked like someone had hit him with the back of a spade. I looked over at him, reached over and touched his hand. “You can be honest.”

I probably sounded patronizing, but I needed to know why he jumped Sandra.

“Can a guy not like someone other than Sandra?” asked Scooby, focused in on the steering wheel. He turned to face me. “But if you would prefer me going after Sandra, I will.”

I didn’t say that.

But it probably came off as that. I was curious. Who wouldn’t be, right?

****

Things seemed to be awkward after I asked that question about why Scooby chose me. Maybe I’m self-sabotaging a situation or maybe overthinking something that doesn’t exist. Throughout the movie, Scooby was hard out into the movie and then silly ol’ me sitting in the chair trying to seem interested but really, ripping my poor brain to bits like I did to a daisy in my intermediate days over some guy.

The movie finished and we both walked out. Scooby seemed ecstatic, I tried to fake it.

“Did you enjoy the movie?” Scooby asked, as we walked out of the theatre.

“Yeah,” I said, vaguely.

He stopped me with his forearm. “Did you watch it?”

“Yes…and no,” I shrugged, shying away from his glance.

We stopped at the entrance of the theatre beside the Box Office. He looked at me and shook his head, grin spreading across his face.

“Is this over the whole Sandra thing?”

“I don’t know,” I whined, looking away. I can't keep being distracted from looking in those piercing eyes of his.

“I don’t know why I’m questioning a situation that doesn’t exist. I guess, I am worried. Sandra has everything, what do I have? No experience.”

“Sandra has everything…materialistically. She’s never had a heart or anything down-to-earthy. You though, you’re cute and have something real to give to the world. I don’t want someone who will give up something, just like that.”

My mouth dropped to the ground.

“Yes, I know what she’s like,” Scooby continued. “Please, just remember that fake isn’t always the way to go.”

Maybe I needed reassurance or confirmation, or whatever. But I walked out of the theatre with a bit of a smile on my face.