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Noah Centineo (Date)

Noah Centineo as Brooks Rattigan from his Movie The Perfect Date.

I sighed as I smoothed out my dress. My stomach dropped when I heard a knock on the front door.

"Y/N?" My mom called. "Your date is here "You mean, my fake date from the app that the neighbor told you about and you forced me to use is here," I mumbled as I put the last few things I needed in my clutch. I checked my reflection one more time in the mirror. My dress was short, flared at the waist, and the only color my mother says looks good on me. Since my mom was a professional cosmetologist, she did my hair and makeup for me. If I had actually wanted to go to the dance, I would've loved how I looked.

I may look amazing, but I was dreading this night more than anything in my life. I hated school dances. The school spends so much time and money on one night where nine out of ten couples end up leaving early, getting a hotel room, and hooking up. Roughly a third of those couples get a surprise nine months later.

"Y/N? You ready, baby?" My dad called up.

"Please don't call me baby in front of my mystery date," I cringed. I sighed as I left my room, wanting nothing more than to throw this dress in the back of my closet and bury myself under a mountain of blankets as I watched tv and ate ice cream. I almost froze on the stairs when I saw who was behind this app that was spreading through school. The person who would be my "date" tonight. The person who I have had a crush on since he sat next to me in middle school orchestra.

... Brooks Rattigan...

"Hey, Y/N." He smiled up at me. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks," I stuttered as I finally got my legs to move again. I bit my lip as I stood in front of him, my parents ten feet from us with cheezy grins on their faces.

"Shall we go?" He asked, offering me his arm. I looked over to see my dad nodding in approval and my mom looking like she was about to burst from excitement. I nodded as I looped my arm through his, holding my breath as he started to lead me to the door. "You two have fun," my mom said, giggling like a high school girl. "Not too much fun," my dad warned, sending Brooks his best father-face as we stopped in front of the front door. "Of course, sir." Brooks laughed slightly, being a good sport. "I'll have her home by eleven." "Oh, please." My mom smiled at him. "Midnight." Brooks nodded before turning back to me. "Ready?" "As I'll ever be," I mumbled. My cheeks burned when he let out a small chuckle. He opened the door for me and led me out of the house, my parents watching us the entire way out the door. "Don't worry," he whispered as we walked down the driveway, towards his car. "I'm not going to kill you or anything." "How reassuring," I sighed, not expecting him to laugh. I bit my lip nervously as Brooks let go of my arm to unlock his car. He opened the passenger door for me, still smiling. I got in, holding my breath as he shut the door and walked around the car to his side. He sent me another smile as he got in and started the car. We were quiet as we left my neighborhood and pulled onto the main road. The only thing breaking the silence was the radio softly playing. I felt him look over at me as I nervously played with my fingers. "Do you like Italian?" He asked, trying to fill the silence with something other than Ed Sheeran's voice. I nodded, not able to find my voice. "Y/N," he said gently. I looked up at him as we pulled to a stoplight, his eyes already on me. "It's going to be okay. I promise I'm not going to hurt you or ditch you. I'm going to make sure you have some fun tonight." "Of course," I shrugged. I turned back towards the front when the light changed. "It's your job." He hesitated before accelerating the car. We were quiet the rest of the way to the restaurant. Once we got there, the valet opened my door for me. Brooks handed him the keys before grabbing my hand. I didn't know whether or not to pull away, so I let him guide me into the restaurant. "Hello, welcome to Antoni's. How many?" The hostess asked, smiling sweetly at us. Looking around the restaurant, there were several teenage couples dressed up. This was clearly a popular choice for pre-dance dining. "I have a reservation for Rattigan." "Wonderful," she said, typing his name into the computer. "Right this way." We followed her through the restaurant. It was hard to miss her smile as Brooks pulled my chair out for me. She handed us our menus before excusing herself. I glanced through the menu, feeling Brooks's eyes on me. "Can I ask you a random question?" "Sure," I shrugged knowing that anything he says would be random. "Do you still play the violin?" I looked up to see him smirking slightly. "How the hell. . ." I stuttered. "How do you remember that?" "We sat next to each other," he said, laughing slightly. "Did you think I'd forget?" His smirk fell when I bit my lip, looking down at my menu. I scanned the menu, trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes on me. "Something tells me you weren't the one who used the app." I looked up at him, not hiding my surprise. "Well, I. . ." I stuttered. "I wasn't. My neighbor used your app and her mom told my mom about it. When she found out I wasn't going to the dance, she thought it was because I didn't have a date. So, she downloaded the app and set it up."