September 20th, 2008
JerryAnn
I fumble with my keys at my apartment door, aware of Cate watching through her kitchen window because the dim microwave light is on and that’s only on when she’s spying. I step closer to my door, where Cate can’t see me. I’m not sure what to do with myself, and I’m grateful for the keys—a thing I can focus on. Just because Gavin seems devoid of emotion doesn’t mean he doesn’t know his way around a door scene.
It’s our first real date. My keys clank about as I rub the grooves and edges of the metal against my fingers. I put my house key in the lock and wonder if I’m doing things wrong. Am I supposed to wait until he says goodbye and then open my door, or open my door before he says goodbye? Or do I open my door at all? I don’t want to live out here. I turn the handle, the door opens a few inches, and Gavin grabs my hand on the knob.
He clears his throat. “I had a nice time.”
I’m glad he told me because I couldn’t tell. Dinner was expensive and we talked, but he never smiled or laughed and spent most of the time looking like he was waiting for someone else.
He steps close to me.
This is the moment. Does he kiss me? Do I kiss him? Do I lean in? He pulls me close, our bodies touch, and I realize I haven’t said anything. “Me too.”
He hugs me and turns his lips toward my cheek. I feel his breath across my cheek, and he whispers in my ear, “I think you’d look pretty as a blonde.”
My breath catches, and he steps away and heads to his car as I step inside my apartment.
Cate’s foot is in my door before I close it, and her eyes are wide. “He is hot.”
Being emotionless isn’t the only thing that attracts me to Gavin. There’s the height, the lean frame, the brown eyes.
“Movie star hot, and oh my goodness, he held you for a long time in front of your door.”
“You could see that?”
“No, but thanks for the confirmation. Did you kiss?” She’s bouncing on her bare feet in Sponge Bob pajamas.
“No.” But he mentioned my hair. Why is his comment making me insecure? Insecure is one of the feels I don’t particularly like.
“Well?” Cate sits on my recliner, turns to face me, and cringes with the squeak. Natalie doesn’t know she’s here. “Tell me everything.”
I tell her about my too-tight dress and the resulting paralyzed armpit, the stinky foot mushrooms in my steak, the $75 meal. Cate loosens the zipper on the back of my dress so I can breathe, and then asks a question I don’t know how to answer.
“And what’s Gavin like?”
I don’t mention his comment or how my thoughts kept drifting to Toby all night. He paid for a nice dinner, opened doors for me, smiled at me, held me in his arms, and aside from that last comment, he was perfect. “He’s charming.”
This elicits a sigh from Cate.
“Conversation between us never stopped.” The statement is true, but the whole night was formal and awkward. Even Toby pouting through practice yesterday was less awkward than my date with Gavin. “He never asked me to help him with his jump shot, become his personal trainer, or practice with him.”
Cate jumps out of the chair and runs headfirst into me with a hug. This is the first hug she’s ever given me. It lasts all of a few seconds, but I prefer her hug to Gavin’s.
She steps back. “I’m so glad you’re finally dating a guy who’s not a jerk.”
I half-smile as she tiptoes to the door. “Goodnight.”
“Sleep tight.” She opens the door and goes back to her apartment.
I stand at the bathroom sink, clean my face, and study my hair. My repertoire of hair styles consists of…a ponytail. Before tonight, I thought my hair was cute—too long to be short, too short to be long. The color has darkened over time, with natural highlights framing my face. But maybe Gavin’s right. Maybe I would look better as a blonde.