JessicaI froze. What if Damon had shown up looking like a walking disaster area because he wasn't excited about the date?
"Is this table okay?" Damon asked.
"Huh?" I answered distractedly.
Damon stared at me with concern. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I said immediately. "I . . . I just thought we should sit over there," I said, pointing at an empty table a few feet away. It was right next to a group of loud, obnoxious high-school guys.
"Are you sure?" Damon asked, wrinkling his nose slightly.
"Yeah, it's . . . right near the counter," I said, waving my hand behind me at the stand where you order food and drinks.
"Okay, if you want," he said reluctantly.
We walked around the guys and sat down across from each other at the empty table.
"Um--so do you want something to drink?" Damon asked awkwardly, avoiding my gaze.
I was really thirsty after the ride over. But did Damon think he'd have to pay for my drink now since this was like an official couple date? I know he doesn't have a lot of money, and I didn't want him to feel like I expected him to spend it all on me.
On the other hand . . . maybe Damon would be hurt if I refused.
"Uh, maybe," I answered, tracing the red-and-white-checkered pattern on the tablecloth with my fingers. "Do you?" I asked, glancing up at him nervously.
"I think I'm going to get a soda."
"Oh. Well, maybe we could split it," I suggested.
"Why?" he asked, looking baffled. "You don't want your own?"
I bit my lip, thinking fast.
"Because . . . it would be romantic," I blurted out.
Oh, right--sharing a
soda is
so romantic. What was my problem? I sounded like a moron.
Damon gulped, and his face seemed to pale a few shades.
"Uh . . . right, of course," he agreed nervously. He stood up. "So, one soda," he mumbled, giving me a brief nod before walking over to the counter.
My head was beginning to hurt. I didn't know how to act, but I was learning fast how
not to act. Forget about two days--Damon was going to break up with me, like,
now if I wasn't careful.
He returned with a big plastic cup in one hand and two straws in the other. He placed the cup down in front of me, still clutching the straws as he sat back in his seat.
I stared at him questioningly, and his face got really red. "Uh, so, how does this work?" he asked, putting down the straws. They started to roll across the table, and I quickly reached out and caught them before they fell off the edge. "Like, we each have our own straw, right?" Damon continued.
"Here," I said, shoving the soda toward him. "I'm actually not even that thirsty." I handed him one of the straws, twirling the other around in my fingers.
He took a long drink from the cup, then sat back in his chair, bopping his head slightly to the music playing.
I started to tap my fingertips along the edge of the table.
Bop, bop, bop. Tap, tap, tap."So, do you want to play pool?" I asked.
Damon's head jerked at the sound of my voice. "What?"
"Pool," I repeated, confused. The music wasn't that loud. "I think I saw a free table."
"Uh, sure, yeah," Damon agreed. He grabbed the soda and stood up, waiting for me to follow him.
What's wrong with him? I wondered as we made our way to the pool area in the back. Damon had acted weird around me like this when his mom first started going out with this guy Ben. But that was a few weeks ago, and he'd been totally normal again until . . .
Until he asked me to be his girlfriend.What if he was starting to regret asking me out? I gulped as the thought sank in.
We reached the empty pool table, and I watched as Damon grabbed a cue from the wall.
I just have to show him that I'm the best girlfriend ever, I thought, trying to feel confident.
All I had to do was figure out how to do that.
Brian"So what do yon think it all means?"
Damon asked after pouring out this long story over the phone about his date with Jessica. How she'd shown up like she was on her way to a ballet or something, and he'd been all sweaty and gross from basketball. How she'd seemed annoyed that
he didn't look like he was heading to a ballet--but he didn't even like ballet anyway. I don't know--he sort of lost me somewhere along the way.
People are always coming to me for advice. Don't ask me why. I'm just as clueless as everyone else. I'd called Damon to invite him to my birthday party next weekend, but I hadn't even had a chance to ask him about it yet.
"Are you sure she wasn't upset about something else?" I asked, cradling the receiver with my shoulder as I poured myself a glass of juice. "Maybe she had a fight with Elizabeth or Bethel or something." I knew it wasn't Kristin, or I would have heard about it already.
"I'm telling you," Damon argued. "She took one look at my T-shirt and practically burst into tears. And you should have seen the dress she had on--like she was on her way to some
ball or something. It was crazy."
"And you were at the Cue Cafe?" I asked. I took a gulp of juice, then set my glass back down on the kitchen table.
"Yep."
"Weird."
Damon groaned. "And then she said that we should share a soda because that's romantic or something. I never knew sharing a soda was this big romantic thing." He paused. "Do you and Kristin share drinks?"
I frowned, thinking about it for a second. "No, we usually get our own. I mean, we always get our own." Splitting a Coke is romantic? That sounded ridiculous. I bet Kristin would think so too. I mean, she would have said something if she wanted to share a soda with me, right?
"So what do you wear when you go on dates?" Damon persisted.
"I don't know," I said. "Normal stuff. Clothes."
"Clothes," Damon repeated. "Thanks. That helps a lot."
"What do you want me to say?" I asked.
"Something useful," Damon said. "I don't want Jessica to dump me."
