Stolen Jerseys / ✓

2.03: chapter twenty-two

S C O T T

"Connor," I said, walking out of my room. I bit my lip and awkwardly adjusted my white button-up before walking into the living room, "does this look all right?"

Connor grinned at me and nodded, flashing a thumbs-up, "Aw, are you nervous for your date?"

"It's not a date," I snapped, pulling my belt off my shoulder and pulling it on quickly. I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed, pushing it to the side, "I don't think it's a date," Connor quirked an eyebrow and I groaned, "I don't fucking know what 'hang out' - " I used air-quotes for that, "- means."

Connor shrugged and I glared, dropping down on the edge of the couch and grabbing my gray shoes. Truthfully, I didn't know what tonight was. Jay had said hang out, but before that, he asked me if I asked Elle on a date. And the way Jay said it definitely didn't just casually sound like hanging out. When Elle and I hung out, it usually just meant hockey and going to Timmies or something.

Tonight wasn't going to be just that.

When I told Connor my original plan (to just take her out for pizza or something), he basically had a fit and told me that was unacceptable. So, for the next half-hour, we spent planning what he deemed an amazing, 'maybe-but-not-sure-date' that Elle was going to love. Or, at least Connor said she was going to love it.

"Am I supposed to get flowers?" I muttered, awkwardly pulling on the collar of my shirt, "I bet I'm too dressed up - fuck. I hate Jay."

Connor smirked and pulled a chair from the kitchen, dropping it down in front of me. Con sat down and crossed his arms, and I looked up at him, quirking one eyebrow. All day Connor had been chasing Miguel around (he hated all of his toys), and now I was curious for what he was gonna say.

"Time for a pep-talk."

I shook my head, "No way. Your pep-talks are the fuc - "

"Scott, I'm trying to be a good and supportive friend, but it doesn't really work when you don't shut up," I snorted and held up my hands, and Connor nodded approvingly, "if it is a date, then that's great. You look all right - the matching belt and shoes is kind of weird - but other than that, you look great! You'll go out there and knock Elle's socks off."

My lips quirked into a smile and I nodded, "Okay - "

"But if it's not a date," Connor started again, cutting me off again, "then you'll probably look like an idiot. But, hey - you'll look like a well-dressed idiot!"

I shot Connor a dry look, his 'pep-talk' not really helping anything, "You're the worst friend in the world."

Connor grinned at me, "The worst best friend in the world."

Despite Connor's pep-talk, I was still nervous about what tonight was. I didn't know what it was, and I didn't know what Elle thought tonight was. What if I thought it was just hanging out, but she thought it was a date? Or what if I thought it was a date, and she thought it was the opposite? It wasn't like I could ask her what she thought tonight was, either, because then I'd sound like an idiot.

I groaned again and let my head fall back against the couch. I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes, pushing anyway all my nervous thoughts for tonight. Despite the fact that I didn't know what to classify tonight as, I was determined to make it fun.

Connor poked my shoulder and I slowly opened up my eyes. Con leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, shooting me an amused look. I knew exactly why he looked so amused: he was getting a kick out of seeing me all awkward and confused. He lived for any moment he could use to embarrass me.