The Death Date

chapter five

Sucking down a needed breath, I let my eyes wander around the rest of the table. Nick's work friends each bore varied expressions of bewilderment: wide eyes, arched brows, and parted mouths filled my line of sight. Aquino, a gangly guy with olive skin and a small nose, seemed particularly bothered, as he had frozen with his fork halfway to his mouth, noodles slipping back to his bowl. I had to fight the feeling that each of the three guys in front of me could easily see my discomfort, while the one beside me seemed entirely oblivious to it.

"Hey, Delia," Garrett said suddenly. The fullness of his cheeks grew fuller with his small smile, making his sky blue eyes disappear in their mass.

"Hi, Garrett," I said, smiling myself. I could always count on Garrett to normalize a situation. "Ask that girl out yet?"

A flush swept over his freckled skin. Hoots and hollers spouted on either side of him.

"Yeah." His face deepened in color. "To, uh, the Navy Ball."

"You asked her to the Navy Ball?" Grayer asked, his dark face sharp with disbelief. "The Navy Ball?"

"Uh, yeah," Garrett responded weakly.

Grayer and Aquino burst into harmonious laughter. After he had removed his hands from across his face, Aquino slapped one down on Garrett's shoulder and said, "Well, that's the kiss of death if one ever existed."

"What do you mean?" Garrett said.

Grayer shook his head as though the question were on par with the meaning of life.
"Garret. Garrett, Garrett, Garrett. Have I taught you nothing? You don't ask a girl – who's in the Navy, mind you – to the Navy Ball for a first date."

Scrunching his full brows, Garrett asked, "Why not?"

"Because!" Grayer shouted. "Would you ask a girl to a work party on a first date?" When Garrett didn't respond, Grayer shouted once more, "No! Hell, no, Garrett! Come on." He drew a breath. "Okay, do you really want this girl to see you too afraid to let loose because you're scared of what your superiors will see-- all while kissing ass and engaging in lame Navy stories?" Once again, Grayer was met with silence. "No, Garrett. No. Jesus Christ Almighty."

"But we're both in the Navy. She'll get it."

Grayer shook his head slowly. "I have taught you nothing. All that time. Wasted. Listen Garrett, you should have asked that girl out for a nice dinner on the waterfront. Instead, you're in for a titillating evening of idle chatter, music that hasn't been played since 2006, and a cold dinner." Garrett dipped his head in shame. "The Navy Ball is only for couples –" Grayer's eyes darted to mine and then to Nick's "– Like Larsen and Delia. They'll go because that's what couples do."

When neither Nick nor I answered, Aquino chirped in, "You guys are going, right?"

"Yeah," Nick said quickly.

"What? We're going?" I asked, entirely blindsided. Last I checked, I hadn't been asked to the Navy Ball, which, if the posters strewn around base were correct, was this Saturday. I had neither the desire nor the dress to attend.

Aquino burst into a fit laughter again. "He didn't ask you to go?"

"It was assumed," Nick stated.

An easy smile spread across Grayer's face as his hands rested on the table. "Another perk to being a couple. All dates are assumed."

Nick tossed a used napkin in his direction just as I stood up from the table and said, "I need some food."

I hadn't decided on Mexican, but it had apparently decided on me because I stood in the line while the smell of salty cheese and spices wafted by. It was easily lost every now and then as the scents from the other two fast food restaurants, an Asian and an Italian sub place, filtered around the food court.

Going to the Navy Ball hadn't been on my to-do list this weekend. What I wanted was to waste away my two days of freedom watching a TV show with Vi and maybe go to the beach. Now I would be forced to cake on a layer of makeup and curl my hair only to have it fall out an hour later all while being strapped into a dress that cost way too much for a single evening of wear. I could hardly wait.

Huffing a sigh, I let my mind drift to Nick. A faint itch pricked at the nape of my neck and my hand flew back to scratch it. We had been together for over two years, and while maybe it could be assumed that we would attend the Navy Ball this year because we had last year, I was still bothered by it. Being with Nick was easy; I knew enough about him and what to expect, and we were comfortable with each other. Was it so wrong for me to want to be properly asked to something like the Navy Ball?

Before my thoughts could matriculate further, a figure approached me from behind. The itch returned to my neck, and so I wasn't surprised to find Warner standing a few feet behind me when I craned around to get a look. My sixth sense for assholes was still in working order.

"What are you doing here?" I asked coarsely.

Warner's left eyebrow rose a degree. "Getting Mexican food. You?"

I barked out a groan in irritation. "There are other restaurants, you know."

Warner sported an expression of mock surprise and looked back and forth between the other two restaurants. "There are two other restaurants? Really? I had no idea. How will I ever choose?" His face slackened to its normal state. "Oh wait, I want the chalupa special."

Eyes narrowed, I whipped my head forwards as a sheath of copper hair flew off my shoulder. "You're such a dick," I muttered and shuffled ahead in line.

"Good one," Warner said. "But, wait –" I turned towards him again. Warner's eyes were shut and his hand rested along his temple "– Something about a pot and kettle. Hold on. Oh, no, got it" – his eyes flew open – "you're not a dick, you just like dicks. Particularly ones that know each other."

Fire swelled in my chest. I took a heavy-footed step and placed myself right in front of Warner. Our eyes locked and the fire in my chest rose to my throat. I wanted to burn him down.

"Why are you like this? Why?" I demanded. "I haven't seen you in two years, and it's like no time has passed. Haven't you moved on at all in two whole years?"

Warner inched closer to me with razor sharp features. "He was my best friend."

"He was my boyfriend!" I yelled in a strained whisper.

Warner blinked. "And now you're dating his friend. Does it make you feel connected to Adam, is that why? Does sleeping with his friend make you feel better?"

A hot tear slipped down my cheek, leaving a burning path. Why was it when I wanted fire, I got water? What use was it? I turned a heel and flipped around once more, making sure to discreetly wipe the tears from my face. Although, I knew it was for nothing. Warner would have to be blind to not have not seen them before I turned around.

It was my turn to order. Shaken and trembling with anger, I still maintained some of my wits. Using caution, I acted out a very well-rehearsed exchange. I kept my distance, avoided unnecessary eye contact, and was rewarded with no death date from the woman taking my order.

"Chalupa special for Delia!" another woman called moments later from beyond the counter, a brown bag clutched in her hand. I quickly approached and grabbed the bag, meeting Warner's gaze on my way back to the table, which seemed much less harsh. His jaw clenched as I walked by him, and, for a split second, I almost thought he was about to say something. But nothing came.

All the bottled feelings I had worked so hard at keeping stored out of sight were open; I would now have to figure out a way to push them back inside. Although, I wasn't sure when I would get the time, seeing as how I still had to find a suitable dress for the Navy Ball and deal with my mom's mania-induced shopping spree, all while living with my impending death date. Bad things, so it seemed, did in fact happen in threes.