Seven-thirty. I slung my purse over my shoulder, change of clothes inside, and walked out into the cool evening air. Shivering as I locked the front door, I zipped up my Harry Potter-themed hoodie and began the trek to Starbucks. The sky looked like it could downpour at any second, so I pulled my small umbrella out of my purse, just in case. I sighed. It figures that it would rain on my parade. After all, this was my first date.
Yes, I reveal my secret. I’d never had a boyfriend before Mr. Donnals. I desperately hoped he wouldn’t find out. If he was as much like Evan as I thought he was, he would never let me live it down.
Roughly ten minutes later, I made it to the Starbucks down the street. Normally, it would’ve taken me fifteen, but I ran for it once it started raining. Turns out my stupid, useless umbrella was broken.
Only I would have luck that bad.
I ordered a green tea frappucino and took a seat in the corner with my book, trying not to look as nervous as I really was. A few minutes later, I realized how close it was to eight, so I rushed to the bathroom to change, ignoring the surprised and confused stares when I returned to my spot.
Reading took my mind off of the anxiety, so I threw myself into my current novel, the last of the Harry Potter series. Not that I hadn’t read it before. This was at least my fifth time re-reading it.
Soon, I’d successfully blocked out everything around me, engaged completely in the story. From there, I lost track of time until someone covered the page.
I looked up, prepared to chew the person out, only to find my date standing over me. Mr. Donnals smiled, his dark eyes sparkling. I offered a weak smile in return. God he looked handsome.
“Hey, bookworm,” he greeted me.
I stood, stuffing the book back into my purse. “Hi,” I said, flustered. My teacher gave me the once-over, his face lighting up at what he saw. I blushed.
“You look amazing, Stella.”
I looked down at myself. A showy emerald summer dress fell to my knees, and a cute white cardigan covered my pale shoulders. I felt a little ridiculous, but at least Gerard liked it.
Now it was my turn to ogle him. He wore a nice brown suit, not a tux, but still decent. His green tie matched my dress to a T.
“Nice choice in tie,” I commented. Mr. Donnals beamed.
“Yeah, funny how we didn’t even plan that, huh?”
“Yeah.”
There was a moment of awkward silence before Gerard said we should go. He led me to his car, the Porsche. When he turned on the engines, Frank Sinatra’s silky baritone came through the speakers, singing “Luck Be A Lady.” I grinned. He’d so planned that.
“So where are we going?” I asked. “Or can I still not know?”
“I’ll tell you that we’re going out of town, but that’s all you get,” he replied, smirking. “It’s a secret, and I plan on keeping it that way.”
I rolled my eyes. Stupid, secretive men. When will they learn?
Suddenly, something red was shoved into my face. I blinked a few times to adjust to the closeness of it, and then asked, “A rose?”
“Yep,” he replied, grinning.
“Cheesy much?” I asked.
“Yes. Cheesy is good, right?” he asked.
“No,” I replied. “No, cheesy is not good.”
“What?” he asked, starting the car and backing out of the parking space. “Every girl I’ve ever dated loved cheesy stuff like that.”
“Well, I’m not every girl you’ve ever dated,” I retorted, feeling self-conscious. Was I not living up to expectations?
No, Stella, I thought to myself. Stop it. You are fine just the way you are. Stop caring about acting cool and be yourself.
I convinced myself that those other girls were just going along with it because they didn’t want to lose a guy as hot as Mr. Donnals, and then I was fine.
We drove to a little town about half an hour outside Peoria, where no one would recognize us. I looked around as we drove. There wasn’t a whole lot, but what was there looked nice. Quaint, but nice. I loved towns like these.
“Ooh, look! They have Fright Night at the movie theatre!” I said excitedly, clapping my hands. Mr. Donnals shot me a concerned sideways glance. “What?” I asked. “I want to see it. What’s so wrong about being excited?”
“Have you even seen the original? Because you can’t go to see the remake without seeing the first version,” he said.
“Duh,” I replied. “I’ve seen it, like, a billion times. I love old horror movies. I have a collection hidden in my closet.”
My English teacher raised his eyebrows. “Really? I never would’ve guessed.”
“I’m full of surprises,” I said, smiling. He grinned back.
“Yes, you are. So do you want to watch the movie?”
I’m sure I looked like a kid on Christmas morning. “Can we? Oh, that would be so awesome! None of my friends want to see it, so I didn’t think I’d be able to unless I wanted to go alone. And how lame is that?”
Oh dear. I was getting nervous. I talk too much when I’m nervous.
“Sure,” said Mr. Donnals, pulling into the parking lot. “Let’s go find out when it’s playing.”
“Thank you so much!” I exclaimed, hugging him. He parked and turned off the car before hugging me back.
“Anything for you,” he replied. I blushed.
“But wait,” I said, leaning back into my seat. “Don’t you have reservations somewhere? I don’t want to ruin your plans…”
Gerard ruffled my hair. “It’s no problem, kid. I want to see this one, too. There’s always next time.”
We headed in and got our tickets for the next show, fifteen minutes later. After getting a few odd looks, we remembered that we were still dressed up. I decided to change into my casual clothes while Mr. Donnals took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. After I was back in my jeans, t-shirt, and Harry Potter hoodie, we headed to the theatre and sat down to watch the movie.
Roughly two hours later, we walked out, laughing and chatting elatedly about the movie. It was really, really good.
“David Tennant was amazing! I freaking love him!” I exclaimed, drawing the attention of some nearby people. I ignored them. They didn’t know me anyway.
“Uh-oh,” joked Gerard, “do I have competition?”
“Maybe a little,” I teased him. He chuckled.
“I’m hungry,” my teacher said, once we sat in his car. “Wanna grab a bite?”
“There’s a McDonald’s right across the road,” I suggested. He beamed.
“Mickey D’s it is!”
So we ate, for him, a McDouble, and a plain McChicken for me. I dipped it in my ketchup and took another bite, watching as he stole a handful of fries from our shared large order.
And then I made the biggest mistake of the night.
I thought about us. And even worse, I asked.
“Gerard, why are we doing this?” I asked out of the blue. The brunette stopped eating and gave me a “no duh” look.
“Because we’re hungry?” he replied, questioningly. I almost did a face palm. Men.
“Not this,” I said, motioning to the food. “This.” I pointed at him and then at me. Realization dawned in his eyes.
“Oh, that,” he said. He took another bite of his sandwich and shrugged. “Because it’s fun.”
Because it’s fun?
What the hell kind of answer is that? Was this just a game to him? Were we a joke?
But why would he do that? Why would he risk his career over something he wanted as an insignificant, “fun,” fling? Was he really that stupid? Or was he a cruel, manipulative bastard who enjoyed toying with confused, insecure girls like me?
“It’s fun?” I asked. “That’s it?”
Then it hit him what he sounded like. His eyes widened and he put down his sandwich. “Stella, that’s not what I meant.”
“Whatever,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t believe you.”
“Stella!” he called, but I was already walking away. Screw him. I didn’t need him.
And then, like a fucking train, it hit me.
“Oh, shit,” I snarled. I did need him. He was my ride home.
Reluctantly, I went back inside, slinking into the seat across from him and eating a couple fries.
“I knew you’d be back,” he said, smirking. I wanted so badly to slap that smirk off his gorgeous face.
“Only because you’re my ride home,” I said. “That’s the only reason why.”
“Uh-huh. Riiight.” He stole the rest of the fries and shoved them in his mouth. Tch. Douche.
We drove back in silence. I wouldn’t even let him turn on the Frank Sinatra station on his Sirius XL radio. I wanted him to feel the full effect of my anger.
He pulled up in front of my house, even at my protests. He claimed that it was eleven at night, so nobody would notice or question it, and even if they did, we could think of some excuse. It just made me all the more mad at him. He’d risk it. Shows how much he cares.
“Goodnight, Stella,” he said as I got out of the car.
“Screw you, Mr. Donnals,” I replied, and slammed the door.
I changed into my pajamas and went to bed, thinking in the darkness. That night had been a night of firsts. First date. First lie to my mother (and to my friend). First time being used.
I sighed and turned on the light again, picking up my book. I wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night. No way.
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Second chapter today! Woot woot! *raises roof until she feels stupid and stops* Anywho, I hope you all appreciate this... I'll probably put up more tonight, and maybe even a new new chapter! :) (As in, a chapter that hasn't even come out on Quizilla yet) So there you have it! Enjoy! I lovez you!
Also, the song on the side is "Newport Living" by the amazing band Cute Is What We Aim For. xD God I love that name.... I figured it fit the mood closer to the end, so yeah... Bye! :D