A Life Less Average

twenty-three

lewis 

It had been almost two months since our first tutoring session. 

I had booked a table at a restaurant in town. I wanted everything to be perfect. My hands had practically been slick with sweat as I had walked up to her house and waited for seven o'clock to hit. I had been nervous enough without her dragging me inside to meet her parents, but I was thankful that was out of the way. 

We hopped on the bus and sat mostly in silence for the journey. Poppy didn't know where we were going, but I was excited. It had been one of my favourite restaurants for the ages, and I knew Poppy would like it. 

I had told her to dress nice to hopefully throw her off the scent. 

She had probably imagined a fancy place, with waiters in tuxedos. But she was in for a treat. 

The restaurant was an American style diner, only fancier. The lights were dimmed throughout the place. The walls were covered with framed and signed headshots of old school actors and actresses and musicians, and there was a low hum of rock music played through the speakers. But it was nice. And the food was great. 

"Where are we going?" she whined as we climbed off the bus, pulling her leather jacket tighter around her body. She insisted on wearing that jacket rather than a coat with actual insulation. I wrapped my arm around her and held her close.

It was freezing. December had come in hard, and it had come in cold. But on the upside, all of the Christmas lights were up and everywhere looked like a dreamland. 

"One of my favourite places," I told her. 

"Oh are we playing that game again? Because I thought we already discovered that the list of things that you like is a lot shorter than the what you don't like," she said, sarcastically. 

"I can make us walk the long way," I said, pulling my arm away from her. She grabbed it back, squealing at the sudden decrease in temperature. 

"Okay, okay! You win. Just get us there quickly. I'm going to die from the cold!" 

"It's round the corner," I promised her. 

The streets in town were busy. It was a Saturday night and most of the people around us were dressed to go out-out. Short skirts and low cleavage and slurred words. A part of me wanted to be a part of that world, but I reminded myself of the night I had ahead, and was immediately glad I wasn't.

The restaurant came into view. There was a small queue of people outside, trying to get through the door to a table before the cold crept deeper. 

I squeezed past the queue and through the door. The maitre d, a girl not much older than us, looked at us expectantly. I cleared my throat, and told her we had a reservation. She exhaled, thankfully, and lead us through the bustling restaurant towards a booth at the back of the room. It was away from the kitchen and bar, and the high sides of booths gave us all the privacy we could have wanted. 

We settled in opposite each other, a flickering candle between us. 

"I've always wanted to come here," Poppy said, peeling off her jacket. 

The heating inside was cranked up, and I was thankful to take off my winter coat. 

"It's my favourite," I told her. "And I wanted to bring you here." 

We looked like an odd pair. I knew that. Her, with her blue hair and bright eyes, and one eyebrow always risen when she spoke. And me with the all-star, neat-freak look. But I liked how we were different. She brought out a different side of me. A spontaneous side. A side that strayed from the straight narrow. She wasn't a bad influence, but she was slowly showing me a different side of life that I had never thought to explore. 

We ordered cocktails and cheers'd, before she browsed the menu. I knew what I wanted without even opening the thing: the Xtra burger. It was a monstrosity, but it had everything in it, and it was delicious. 

She um'd and ah'd over the vegan portion of the menu until she decided. 

While we waited for the food to arrive, I tried to calm myself down. I was thankful she couldn't feel my palms as I continuously wiped them dry against my jeans. I was afraid that the denim would become too saturated that it was stop absorbing the sweat, so I held a napkin in my fist and bit the bullet. 

"I have something I want to ask you," I said. 

She looked at me over the paper umbrella in her drink. Even in the dim light her eyes sparkled. They were a deep blue tonight and I felt as though I was drowning. Which I almost was. The sweat was starting to creep out of the skin on my forehead. 

"Well, I have two things I want to ask." 

"Okaaay," she said, unsure. 

"The first one is super cheesy and I'm really sorry. But, will you be my girlfriend?" 

She laughed. Not a laugh aimed at the question, but at what I imagined was pure determination on my face. Determination to get the question out as well as wanting an answer. 

"Yes," she said, a small smile on her lips. It was a shy smile, one that I hadn't really seen before. 

I half expected her to make a sarcastic comment to ease the tension. It was number one on her list of defence mechanisms, and I was surprised by her silence. 

"Okay, and number two," I continued. "Will you go to the Winter Dance with me?"

She didn't answer straight away, which did nothing for my nerves. 

"I mean, you don't have to. I know they're not really your kinda thing but I thought it would be kind of cool to go together. Plus, it's our last one and it'd be a shame to miss out on the last Winter Dance, you know?" 

She reached across the table and her wrapped her long fingers around my clammy hands. 

"Stop talking," she said. "Of course I'll go with you, you nerd." 

Something about her calling me a nerd settled it. It wasn't quite the sarcastic remark I had been waiting on, but at least I knew her answer had come from a real place, and she hadn't just said yes because I was a rambling idiot. 

"You're such a cheese ball," she said, rolling her eyes. 

"You said yes," I said, my face split in half by my smile. "Girlfriend." 

She fake gagged, laughing. 

"I've never had a boyfriend before," she said, composing herself.

"Really? Never?" 

She shook her head. Her blue hair fanned out briefly. "Nope. Never." 

"Wow. How come?" 

"Because I've never wanted one," she said, but something must have changed in my face, so she quickly added: "Until now." 

Our food came, and we quietened while the waitress filled the table with plates of fries and coleslaw and wings. 

Poppy reached for the sweet potato fries and started eating. 

"I mean, even now I don't know if I'm emotionally ready. So I'll guess we'll find that out together," she said, laughing. "But in all honesty, I've never found somebody who's worth the time after the first few hours of speaking to them. Most guys want one thing, and they're not really bothered with the rest of it. And I guess I was never really bothered for the rest of it. I've never seen a relationship that's been worth the time and effort." 

She shrugged. 

I thought of her parents. The two people who had been stood beside each other in the kitchen looked as though they had been pretty happy, but I guess I didn't really know. Looks can be deceiving, after all. 

I had grown up surrounded by successful relationships. And for a while, Maisy and I had been just that. Until the distance had pulled us apart. 

But Poppy and I were like magnets, and I hoped and hoped that the old saying of 'opposites attract' would ring true for the two of us.