Oh my God, I thought. I, Annabelle Jane Smith, am about to go on a date with Peter Hastings! I can't believe he, a senior, asked me, a sophmore, to go on a date with him! It should be on the news, I'm so excited!
After getting ready for the date, I retouched. My make-up looked pretty good. For make-up, I was wearing eye-liner, mascara (although I didn't need it that bad), and some concealer. For my clothes, I was wearing a black v-neck and vans, blue skinnes and I painted my nails a dark, dark purple. I straightened my hair, too! Now it wasn't in my usual loose curls.
I had nothing else to do so I went on the computer and talked to some people. Then . . . the doorbell rang!
I signed out and ran to the door. I was about to open it but then I didn't want to seem desperate. I straightened out my clothes and opened the door. He looked absolutely stunning! He was wearing a white v-neck (which is uber cool so we were matching sort of), black jeans, and some converse. The street lights in the background made him seem angelic. It was as if this white glow was radiating off him.
"You look great!" I blushed at his comment. "Uhh, before we leave, do you mind if I go to the bathroom?"
"Go ahead," I said, smiling. "You make a left right before the kitchen, down that hallway and the bathroom door is to your right." He smiled and beforel leaving he asked: "Are you parents home?"
"No, my dad went on this business trip and my m --" I broke off. He didn't need to know. I fought back tears. He couldn't know. I couldn't tell him.
"What about your mom?"
"She . . . uhh . . ." I took in a deep breath. "She died seven months ago."
He ran up to me and wrapped his arms around my. I weakly held onto his waist, putting my face in the crook of his neck. He smelt like Axe. "Oh, Anna, I'm so sorry. "
I took a step back. His hands trailed down to mine. "Don't be." He took a hand out of mine and wiped my tears.
"Well, I am. I'm gonna go to the bathroom and I'll be right back." I nodded and once I couldn't seem him anymore I ran up the stairs to fix my make-up. Luckily, it didn't look terrible so I didn't have to fix too much. I ran back down the stairs and he was there.
I have a nervous laugh. "This wasn't exactly the way I would've wanted to start a date."
"It's fine. I think you're even cuter than before seeing you cry like that. Not that I'd want you sad and . . . uhh . . ." He trailed off and I saw the ghost of a blush lingering among his cheeks.
"Oh . . . should we go?"
"Sure!"
We got into his car (he held the door open for me which I thought was amazingly cute) and we on our way to the movies. We saw Kickass which was amazing. He kissed me goodnight, his mouth tasting of popcorn and soda (which didn't make too much a difference becasue mine did, too) and he asked me the best question he could.
"I don't wanna seem like . . . chiche, I guess? But, uhh, will you be my girlfriend?" I gave him a small peck on the mouth and nodded. He brought me in his arms and gave me one last kiss goodnight. "Sweet dreams."
"So you don't want anything?"
All of a sudden, it started raining. It was as if every second that went by, it got harder and harder. "Uhh . . . do you mind if I . . . ? Nah, that's a bit much. It's only rain after all." Then I heard the thunder rolling so I did the only thinkg I knew to speaking that I was absolutely terrified of thunder. I dropped to my knees.
"Are you okay?"
I nodded. "I just . . . hate . . . lightning." He picked me up bridal-style and brought me upstaris finding my room. He laid me down on the bed and he ly next to me.
I smiled at him. Peter Hastings. My first love.
