Started as His Girlfriend (Sequel to "Started as His Tutor")

Treasure

The man hands me the two cones and I give Wendy her's. I lead her outside and we stroll on the sidewalk while eating our ice cream. When we reach a wooded area, I help Wendy get past a small opening without getting herself stuck to some twigs and she follows me down a path littered with crusty leaves. 

"This place seems familiar," Wendy finally points out. 

"We came here before and we were eating the same exact thing too."

"We were?" Wendy looks around. 

"Yeah. Well, I consider it our first date."

"I thought our first date was the zoo."

"No way! We had plenty of other dates before that," I debate. 

"Wren told me the same thing, but the zoo was when we were official."

"Well, this is where our actual first date took place," I insist. 

"I remember now!" Wendy gasps. "It was during the fall fair last year, right?"

"Yep."

"That wasn't really a date," Wendy says skeptically. 

"Yes it was. Come here," I grab her hand, dragging her to the old, splintery, and creaky bench. Sitting, I pat the spot beside me. 

"You could've made me drop my ice cream," Wendy says before plopping next to me. 

"Remember I told you this was my secret treasure?"

"Yeah. I was really touched you showed it to me. It was the first time I felt you were my friend."

"Friend?" I yell. 

"Yeah, what?"

"I confessed to you here," I sigh, exasperated.

"What are you talking about?" 

"What part of this place reminding me of you didn't you understand? I was basically saying you are my treasure."

"I thought you meant like a friend."

"I shouldn't have used a metaphor. I knew you were smart and everything, so I was trying to impress you by being wordy."

"You tried to impress me?" Wendy blushes. 

"I thought you were just playing hard to get, but I can't believe you actually had no idea," I sulk.

"I'm sorry," Wendy apologizes, offering me a bite of her ice cream. 

I whip my head in the other direction, folding my arms and throwing a fit.

"I'm really sorry, Vincent. Don't be mad," Wendy tugs on the sleeve of my shirt. 

"To late," I pout. 

"How can I make it up to you? Huh? Come on, tell me," Wendy pleads. 

"Call me ba-" I pause, reconsidering my demand.

"What? Tell me."

"Call me...babe..."

"Wh-what? Ba-babe?" Wendy stutters, pulling her hands away to cover her reddened face. 

"Never mind," I withdraw, embarrassed. 

"Why babe?" Wendy asks. 

"I don't know. I see Ally and Carson doing it. Sometimes Evelyn and Olivia. It seems interesting..."

"Now that I think about it, I guess we never had pet names for each other."

"I'm just curious to see what it's like..."