Scene 2 - Noah Makes Plans

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Noah plopped onto the barstool beside his friend Joey and grabbed the bottle out of his hand. As Joey stared, Noah tossed the beer back, hoping it would settle the nerves jangling in his stomach. No such luck. He bent over and banged his forehead against the wooden surface of the bar. “I am so fucked.”

“Yeah? And now I’m out of beer,” Joey said.

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Bartender, two more,” Joey called out. He shook Noah’s shoulder. “Come on, what’s your problem? Being fucked sounds like a good thing to me.”

Noah pushed himself off the bar and glared at Joey. “Don’t you ever take a night off from being an asshole?”

Joey heaved out a sigh. “All right. Tell me what’s going on and maybe we can fix it.”

“I’m spending the day with Cassie, tomorrow.”

“Cassie? The girl in marketing you’ve been crushing on since the Labor Day picnic?” A grin curved his lips, and he punched Noah in the shoulder. “You dog.”

Noah had been chasing Cassie for months, and while she seemed to enjoy his company, she’d clearly relegated him to the dreaded “friend zone.” “It’s going to be a fucking disaster.”

“Color me confused, Romeo. You’ve got a Valentine’s Day date with a girl you like. You wine and dine her, then take her back to your place for a little nightcap, and bingo, hot babe in your bed. I’m really not seeing the problem.”

“The problem is—”

The bartender arrived with their drinks, interrupting him. Noah held out a twenty. “Keep the change.”

Joey picked up his bottle and raised it in a toast. “Here’s to getting lucky.”

Now that was a goal he could sign up for, but that wasn’t all he wanted from Cassie. Far from it. He knocked his bottle against Joey’s and slugged back the beer. “As I was saying, the problem is—actually there are three problems—this isn’t a date. We’re just hanging out. Second, Cassie hates Valentine’s Day. And I mean major phobia. And third, the biggest problem: she treats me like one of the girls.”

Joey choked on his beer and began coughing.

Noah slapped him on the back a few times, but when tears of amusement began trickling from the corners of his friend’s eyes, he swore and turned his back.

A few minutes later, when he had caught his breath, Joey tapped his arm. “Sorry man. Let’s just take this one problem at a time. She thinks you’re gay? Where’d she get that idea?”

Noah shook his head. “I don’t know if she thinks I’m gay exactly, but she obviously doesn’t see me as boyfriend material.”

Joey eyed him critically up and down. “You do kind of have the computer geek vibe going.”

“Why? Just because I don’t wear suits to work like those stuffed shirts in marketing?”

“Could be. Could also be the pressed jeans and Call of Duty T-shirt. Not to mention the glasses. Didn’t you get contacts recently?”

He looked down at his jeans. They weren’t pressed, for God’s sake; they were new. And the T-shirt had been a gift from his nephew. His mother had warned him to wear it at least once a week if he wanted to continue having Sunday night lasagna. He’d do anything for his mother’s lasagna. But the contacts…. “They made my eyes burn, so I stopped wearing them. But yeah, I could try again.”

“What I don’t get is that if she hates Valentine’s Day so much, why is she spending it with you?”

“I convinced her that we could spend the day together and have fun. No romance. No Valentine’s Day anything.”

“I’m still not getting it.”

“Think Un-Valentine’s Day.”

“Huh. So, what do you have planned?”

“Nothing yet. I’m hoping you can help me figure that out.”

Joey stared at his bottle for a minute, then looked up. “We have two goals: one, make her see you as more than a computer nerd, and two, come up with activities that are the opposite of what she’d expect.”

Their eyes met and they both grinned. “Un-Valentine’s.”

“She’s probably expecting a day of antiquing on Adams Avenue in Normal Heights followed by drinks in Seaport Village at the Edgewater Grill.” Joey’s eyes twinkled as he raised his bottle, his little finger extended.

There were few things in life Noah dreaded more than shopping with a woman—the endless browsing, the hours of indecision, the discouragement, the tears, the drama. A shudder ran up his spine. He’d rather have his chest waxed by an angry ex-girlfriend. “Yeah. Not going to happen.”

“That’s it!” Joey said, slapping him on the back. “What do men love almost as much as women love shopping? I’m thinking speed, gasoline, moving mechanical parts.”

“You mean take her to the race track?” He shook his head and took a sip of beer. “The last thing I want is her sitting beside one of those macho professional race car drivers for six laps.”

Joey laughed. “You’ve got a point. How about go-karting? You could take her to the Miramar Speed Circuit.”

Noah’s head popped up. “Go-karting? That’s brilliant. She’ll never expect it, and I’ll get to look manly as I expertly zoom past her.”

“Just don’t wipe out, or she’ll know you’re a dweeb.”

“Funny. After the races, we can have lunch at the track.”

“Perfect. Fast food, lots of noise. Unromantic in every way.”

Hmm. Yeah, that was the plan.

“What about the afternoon?” Joey asked after polishing off his beer.

“I’ve just thought of the perfect place.”

“Going to clue me in?”

“It goes something like pfft splat!”

“Oh man, you’d better warn her to wear disposable clothing,” Joey said, laughing.

Noah yanked his cell phone out of his pocket and waved it at his friend. “Even if she doesn’t have fun tomorrow, I’m going to have a blast.”

“There you go. Show her who’s the man, and maybe she’ll start treating you like one.”

And maybe he’d finally break free of the friend zone. Or maybe she’d be so pissed at him, she’d kick him out of her life completely.

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