Chapter 5
I frowned as I put on my heels, while Asvika laid on the carpet, holding her stomach and laughing uncontrollably.
"Having fun, aren't you?" I muttered, annoyance creeping into my voice.
"Of course, I am. I'm not the one going on a crazy date," she replied, struggling to suppress another round of laughter.
I shot her a glare. "This is all your fault, though. If you hadn't picked those terrible seats in the lecture hall, I wouldn't have to go through this."
She shrugged, still smiling. "You'll be fine. It's a one-time thing. Besides, you're doing it for the plot. You can check 'went on a date with a weirdo' off your bucket list."
My phone buzzed, and the contact’s name RoadKill flashed on the screen. Asvika peered over, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Hey Bella! I'm right outside! Ready when you are." The text read.
"Roadkill? Did you seriously name him Roadkill? Why?" she asked, her voice full of disbelief as I grabbed my purse and headed downstairs.
"Because I should've run him over. But I didn't. I'll forever regret it," I replied, my tone dry.
"Sometimes, girl, I wonder how we even clicked. You're like Wednesday and I'm like Enid," she said, opening the door with a dramatic sigh. "Yet you love me the most."
Ew.
"Bella, remember, pretend to enjoy whatever he has planned. Don't be rude, be nice," Asvika chanted as I walked toward his car, where he stood like a nervous kid waiting for his prom date.
He waved to Asvika as I climbed into the passenger seat. "Wow, Bella, you look very beautiful."
"I am beautiful. Can we go now?" I replied flatly.
A tinge of disappointment flickered across his face, but he quickly masked it with a smile as he drove off.
We arrived at the restaurant; the ambiance dimly lit with soft jazz playing in the background. It was nighttime and there was barely anyone in the restaurant.
The waiter led us to a small, cozy table by the window. I slid into the seat, setting my purse down, my mind already racing through how to make this night end as quickly as possible.
The waiter handed us the menus, and as I skimmed through it, I noticed shrimp sauce mentioned a couple of times under the appetizers. I winced at the thought.
He didn't waste any time.
"I'll start with the shrimp sauce," he said, his tone confident, glancing up at me with a smile.
I froze for a moment before quickly blurting out, "I'm allergic to shrimp."
He blinked severally, eyebrows furrowing. "Oh…uh, okay. Well, what would you like instead?" he asked, clearly flustered by my sudden declaration.
I inwardly smirked, suppressing the urge to roll my eyes.
Shrimp? Please. I was making it all up, but it was worth a shot. I needed a way out.
"Just... no shrimp," I said, waving my hand dismissively. "I'll have the grilled chicken and, uh, the vegetable stir-fry. Also, the same for him." I pointed at Roadkill with a forced smile, not giving him the chance to protest.
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely," I replied with finality.
Roadkill hesitated, glancing at the menu again. "Well, if you say so..."
I nodded. "It's for the best. You don't want to deal with someone who's allergic, right?" I added with a sweet smile, trying to sound as reassuring as possible, hoping the conversation would quickly shift.
To my surprise, when the dishes arrived, Roadkill took a tentative bite of the grilled chicken and stir-fry. His eyes lit up. "Wow, this is actually really good," he said, taking another bite. "Good call, Bella."
I just nodded, not wanting to acknowledge how well my plan was working. If anything, he seemed to enjoy the meal even more than he probably would've enjoyed shrimp sauce.
"Well," I said with a fake casualness, "I guess sometimes the best plans are the unexpected ones."
He nodded, a little too eager to agree with anything I said and continued eating. I sighed internally, knowing this wouldn't be the last time I'd have to endure his company. But for now, at least, the shrimp disaster was averted.
I thought of all the excuses I could have made to avoid this date. I could have done a rain check. But then…He was going to think I owed him one.
Might as well get this over with.
Roadkill—despite the awkwardness of the conversation— kept trying to make small talk. I was done though. I didn't have the energy to pretend to care anymore. His voice droned on, and I barely heard his words.
"So, Bella, you like going out on the weekends, right? What do you do for fun?"
I stabbed my fork into my food without looking up, my mind elsewhere.
"Mm-hmm," I muttered, hoping that was enough to end the conversation.
But he wasn't picking up on the hint. He kept going.
"What kind of movies do you like? Maybe you can show me your favourite one sometime," he suggested, his voice hopeful.
I felt my blood pressure rise. I couldn't take this anymore. My hands shook with frustration, and before I could stop myself, I slammed my fork onto the table.
The clattering sound echoed through the empty restaurant, startling him into silence.
He blinked at me, clearly caught off guard.
I gave him a tight, forced smile. "I…I need to use the restroom," I said, my voice too calm, almost fake. Without waiting for a response, I grabbed my purse and stood up, turning on my heel and walking away.
I didn't care about being rude at this point. I just needed to get out of there. The air felt suffocating.
So much for Asvika's pep talk. Were all dates like this? Maybe I was the problem.
I made my way toward the back of the restaurant, where the restroom was, but I didn't intend to use it.
The waiter looked up as I approached. I stopped in front of him, already knowing what I was about to ask.
"Hey," I said slowly, leaning slightly toward him. "Is there a backdoor here?"
The waiter raised an eyebrow but smirked as if he were in on some secret. "Yeah, through the kitchen. It's right down the hall, then take your left," he said casually, gesturing with his hands.
Looks like I wasn't the first girl to run from a date through the back door. He was clearly having fun.
I nodded quickly, not wasting another second. As I passed through the kitchen, the sounds of clanging pots and sizzling oil faded away, replaced by the quiet hum of my racing heart. The kitchen door slammed shut behind me, and I found myself in a narrow hallway, heading straight for the backdoor.
I pushed it open with a deep breath, ready to escape and maybe just breathe for a second.
But the sight that greeted me made my stomach drop.
Shit.
Zach—Roadkill—was standing outside, a frown plastered on his face. And he wasn't alone. A group of guys stood behind him, leaning casually against the walls, eyeing me as if they were waiting for something.
A chill ran down my spine. This wasn't just some ‘date’ anymore.
"What's going on?" I demanded, forcing my voice to stay steady.
Zach stepped forward, still smiling like nothing was wrong. "I was just waiting for you, Bella."
I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand, and a sudden realization dawned on me. I wasn't leaving this place as easily as I thought.
"What's wrong, Bella?" Zach's voice oozed with mock sympathy.
"Did you get tired of playing princess? Too good for me all of a sudden?
" He pushed himself off the dumpster, slowly closing the distance between us.
"You wanted to leave me there? Alone, in the restaurant?
That's really nice of you, Bella. Real classy. "
I didn't know how to respond. I couldn't even look him in the eye. The anger boiling inside me was too much to handle. It wasn't just his words; it was the fact that he was here.
I had walked out of that restaurant expecting to be free, but somehow, he was faster.
"Did you really think you could walk out and get away with it?
" Zach continued, circling around me. His words were laced with bitterness, but I could hear the wounded pride underneath them.
"You think you're so special, huh? Too good for me, too good for this night, too good for everything I've offered you.
" He snapped his fingers in the air, the sound sharp and cutting.
He was definitely on something. Cocaine?
I didn't answer.
I clenched my fists at my sides, my body trembling with frustration and fear. I was trying to keep it together, but Zach was pushing every button he could.
The air felt thick with tension, like everything was about to explode.
"You're really ill-mannered, you know that?" Zach's voice had taken on an almost theatrical tone now, his eyes glinting with something darker.
"You didn't even have the decency to finish the night. I'm here trying to show you a good time, and you just get up, leave, and act like I'm some joke? That's how you treat someone who's giving you, their time?" He spat the words out like venom.
Yes.
It wasn't just his anger; it was the hurt in his voice that made my stomach twist with discomfort. But that didn't change the fact that I needed to get away from him, and I wasn't going to let him drag me back into his mess. Not tonight.
"You think I'm the one who's ill-mannered?" I finally spoke, my voice cold. "You're the one who's acting like a child, Zach. I don’t owe you anything." I tried to step around him, but he was faster, cutting me off.
He leaned in closer, his smile dangerous, his breath hot and slimy against my ear. "No, you owe me an explanation. You owe me respect." His tone darkened, and his grip tightened on my arm as he pulled me back. "You're not leaving now, Bella. Not until you learn some damn manners."
I pulled my arm from his hold glaring at him. I really should have run him over that day and made sure he wasn't breathing.
One of Zach's friends, a tall guy with messy hair, snickered. "What'd you do, Zach? Scare her off already?" He nudged another guy, and they all chuckled again, looking at me like I was some kind of game.