Yearbook

11 - Samantha

As first dates go,I’m not sure where to rate this one. In order to rate something, you have to have something to compare to and well, I’ve never been on a date before. When you’re a wallflower and nobody really pays attention to you, there’s not a lot of offers. But when Phillip asked me to dinner tonight, I wasn’t going to say no.

Cyn has always told me about her dates. Before she and Knox got together, she’d had other boyfriends or guys take her out on dates. I’ve heard stories where she couldn’t stand to watch how someone ate or the guy tried to play footsie under the table before they’d even ordered drinks. I don’t see Phillip as having either of those problems but again, this is an actual date. He might not act like he does at school or at home. Sure, I’ve seen him at the house when I’d go over to see Cyn but it’s not the same.

Phillip ran home to change but when he returns, he rings the doorbell right on time and smiles when I open it. That’s a good start, calming the butterflies in my stomach. But then again, that only lasts a second or two before more butterflies stir, warm and flippy in my stomach. It’s a good kind of flip though and I just go with it. His smile is too good not to enjoy.

His eyes trail me from my feet up to my face before he places a hand over his heart and lets out a breath. “Hi Samantha.”

“Hi Phillip.” I bite my lower lip, shy from him staring so long.

He clears his throat, breaking the spell. “You’re beautiful.”

“Twenty minutes couldn’t have improved me that much,” I laugh nervously. When he left to run home and change, I literally sprayed a little dry shampoo in my hair to revive it, threw it up in a messy knot and pulled stands down by my ears. I decided to touch up my eyeliner then changed into capris and a sweater so I wouldn’t have to carry a jacket. I’m only wearing flip flops too.

“You could be wearing a grocery sack and it’d have the same effect on me.” He holds out his hand. “Shall we go?”

I take his hand, following him to the truck, and can’t help staring at his ass as I walk slightly behind him down our sidewalk. Phillip knocked the wind out of me too, showing up in jeans made to look worn on purpose, and a trim black T-shirt that appears to have been ironed, showing off his sculpted athletic build. I’m breathless.

He opens my door for me and helps me up into his truck before walking around to the driver’s side. I climb in and realize he has a few papers on the passenger seat so I move them out of the way, picking them up and hand them to him as he hops in.

“What are these?”

Phillip turns the key, firing up the engine. “Sketches for ink I’m considering.”

I study them briefly before handing them to him. “Where would you put them?”

“I have a few ideas.” He puts the truck in drive and points to the one on top. “That one, I might do from my shoulder down my arm.” It is an intricate design, consisting of a cross between swirls and sharp tribal markings. The design is actually mesmerizing, I wonder what it meants. He points for me to switch to the other. “That I might have go up my ribcage. I haven’t decided yet.”

At the stop sign, he tucks them into his console for safe keeping. Soon we’re off heading toward the mall where there are a lot of restaurants to choose from.

“Do you have any ink?”

“Me?” I shake my head vehemently. “No. Roxy has one though.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me at all. She’s cool.” He makes a turn and then extends his hand for me to take it. “What do you think about tattoos?”

I lay my hand in his, enjoying the feel of his fingers clasping mine. “I like them. Well, not all of them but they look good on most people.”

“Just not really a fan?”

“I didn’t say that. I only said they look good on some people.” I like watching him drive, observing how his eyes watch the road and the surroundings, occasionally forming a crease between his brows like he’s thinking and deciding before it smooths and he looks my way.

“Would you get one with me?”

I laugh nervously. “I’ll go with you while you get one. I’m afraid of needles.”

He squeezes my hand. “How would that work then? They have to use needles to do the tat.”

“They won’t be aimed at me though. I’d be ok.” I take a deep breath and let it out. “Do you have some already? I don’t remember seeing any.”

“Not yet. Knox has been talking about them a lot at football practice. A few of the guys have some already and it’s just been a thing lately. Are the needles the only aversion you have against them?”

“I don’t like skulls.” I cut my eyes sideways and see him chuckle. “Don’t laugh. I just don’t like anything to do with death.”

“It’s perfectly ok Samantha.” He gives my hand a squeeze again before letting go to open his phone to a playlist. “Nothing wrong with that. I don’t like skulls either.”

Phillip clicks something and soon we have music. Nothing too loud or hectic, just something nice for the background. I like his choice and silently wonder if it’s something he normally listens to or if he thinks I’d like it. Like he picked it for me. But he likes it too, starting to bop his head with the beat, then he takes my hand again. That’s when I notice it.

“You don’t have your hat on.” My cheeks blaze when I blurt it out.

Phillip looks over at me and grins. “I left it at home.”

“You could have worn it.” I smile, shyly.

“You like my hat?” He puts his signal on to turn, watching the street before looking my way again.

“Yeah, when you wear it backwards especially.”

“She likes it backwards. Note taken,” he smiles.

Once inside, we’re seated at a booth toward a secluded corner. It’s nice and just private enough to be comfortable.

I open my menu. “What looks good?”

“I’m thinking salmon maybe.” Phillip keeps staring at the menu but then looks up when I stifle a giggle. “What?”

“Nothing.” My eyes dart to the menu. “I’m thinking of—”

“No, you can’t get off that easy. What is it?” Phillip’s eyes flash with good humor but he seems genuinely curious.

“It’s nothing. I promise. Just something I remembered.”

“Well, now you gotta share.” He closes his menu to give me his full attention.

My face blooms pink and I’m thankful for the low lighting of the restaurant. “You asked for it.” My eyes drop to the menu again, not focusing on any of the words. “First day of school when your family moved across the street, you and your brother and sister got on the bus.”

“That was a long time ago,” Phillip comments but keeps listening.

My eyebrows rise higher, but I don’t look at him yet. “You saw my name on my backpack and called me Salmon-thuh.” I look up then seeing Phillip’s curious smile turn sheepish.

He fidgets with his menu, picking at the corner. “If memory serves, my brother corrected me. I was trying to sound out your name, and pronounced it wrong. Didn’t know you heard me.”

A smile grows on my face. “It was cute. Most everyone calls me Sam, but you only say Samantha it seems.”

“At least now I’m putting the right emphasis on the correct syllable,” he chuckles and it warms my heart.

“No damage done. Just an observation.”

Our waiter comes by. “What will we be having this evening?”

“I’ll have the vegetable platter,” I answer when the waiter looks to me first, “and a side of the baked apples.”

“And for you, sir?”

“I’ll have the nine-ounce filet, broccoli and baked potato as well. Thank you.”

“Excellent choice. How would you like that cooked?”

“Medium well please.” His eyes meet mine across the table.

“Very good. Salads will be along shortly.” With that the waiter takes the menus and leaves.

I can’t help but smile. “Steak?”

Phillip gets the sheepish look again on his face and just forms a thin line of a smile. “Yeah, I couldn’t bring myself to say salmon in front of you.”

We both burst out laughing.

“You ordered vegetables when we’re in a steakhouse...do you not eat meat?”

I take a breath filling my lungs and let it out slowly. “So, my diet is touchy right now. I can’t have a lot of protein. I love steak, but it doesn’t love me back if I eat a lot of it.”

His shoulders slump with defeat. “I’m really doing great here, shit. I’m sorry. I should have asked you where to go first.”

I can’t take the pained look in his eyes so I reach across the table and hold out my hand. “It’s the best first date I’ve ever been on.”

Phillip takes my hand and lightly squeezes it. “I doubt that, but thank you.”

“It is. Seriously.” He quirks an eyebrow, obviously not believing me. “Tell you what, if you share a bite of your steak when it comes, I’ll share my apples.”

A smile lights his face. “Deal.”

Our drinks and salads arrive and I go easy on the dressing. He removes the paper from our straws and places mine in my cup first which I think is thoughtful. It’s a small detail, but it’s kind and I take note of it.

“Since we’re admitting to firsts or otherwise,” he says, “what else?”

I take a drink and let go of the straw. “Are we confessing things?”

“You tell me. Would you rather truth or dare?”

I think it’s endearing. Phillip doesn’t do small talk. I’ve never witnessed him be overly chatty so this is fun.

“What do you want to know?”

He swallows a bite of salad. “Anything.” He shrugs, keeping his eyes on me. “Everything,” he admits before stabbing his salad again with his fork. The muscles in his arm flex with that small motion and it does things to me. Sam, get a hold of yourself!

“Well, let’s see. We both admitted not having first dates before. Which neither of us believe but also believe if that makes sense.”

Guilt or something weird flashes in his eyes but he takes a bite, listening intently. “I’ll go first. I think your pictures are amazing. And, I love your green bikini you wear in the summer.”

My face turns tomato red, I’m sure of it. “Really?”

Phillip’s cut the grass in our neighborhood for years. Cynthia and I sometimes laid out in the sun to work on our tans but I’m trying to remember a time when I might have been in the yard when he was actually running the lawnmower. Nothing comes to mind.

Seeing the look of confusion on my face, he comes clean. “You were at my house with my sister this summer doing the tanning thing. I was cutting grass next door.”

“But you have privacy fence.”

“I ran home to get a bottle of water from the kitchen and grab my spare gas tank that I forgot and happened to see you two outback.”

“Didn’t realize we had an audience,” I grin.

“I’m not apologizing.”

I giggle hearing the smug confession.

“Well, I have to admit your hot pink surfer tank top and the black athletic shorts you wear when you mow is pretty hot. Touche.” And my cheeks prick with heat. “You really like my photos?”

“Oh no, you don’t get to deadpan like that. You’ve been looking too?”

“Maybe.” My cheeks prick more. “Ok, fine. Yes.” I roll my eyes and slump in my seat, embarrassed but oddly happy at admitting the truth. Phillip looks a little more confident.

“I do like your photos. I think you have a real gift. You see things in a way others don’t.”

“I see you.”

“Want to know what I see?” I nod yes. “We’ve known each other for most of our lives, but as best friend’s brother or girl next door. You’re the girl that takes pictures and I play football as far as school goes, but I want to change all that. I think there’s more to us than that.”

I can’t help but smile a little. “Did you just say us?”

“I did. I’d like it to be us from now on.”

“I want that too.”

He takes a drink to stifle his next comment just as our main course arrives giving us a chance to pause and recollect ourselves. Phillip thanks the waiter and then turns to cutting his steak, offering the first bite to me.

“Thank you.” I take the steak and chew, my eyes rolling back in my head. “Oh my God, I haven’t had steak in a long time. This is good.”

He smiles a little wider, apparently liking my reaction. Phillip chuckles, “can I have my fork back?”

“Oh! Yes, here I’ll give you a clean one.” He shakes his head no and points to the one that was in my mouth. I hand it over. Why did that make my stomach flutter?

“Thank you.”

A comfortable silence falls over us as we stare into each other’s eyes. His deep brown, mine blue, a silent exchange speaking more than words. There’s faint music playing over loudspeakers and a quieted hush overall for the restaurant as many of the tables are booths for privacy. I like his choice of restaurants. It’s a comfortable setting for getting to know someone better.

“Fun fact. Did you know, kings and queens used to have people who tasted their food first to make sure it wasn’t poisoned and fit to eat?”

Phillip leans forward. “Your eyes remind me of the ocean.”

And that totally obliterates my fun fact.

“You sir, flatter me. I think.” I laugh nervously, fidgeting with my forgotten vegetables. “I’ll take your word for it. I’ve never seen the ocean.”

“And I’m not royalty but it doesn’t matter. You’re a queen to me.”

“You must be an old soul because nobody our age talks like this.” Phillip leans back, returning his focus to his steak as if I perhaps hurt his feelings. “I’m having the best first date ever. I mean it. Thank you.” His eyes look back up and he winks, his lips tugging into a smile of relief.

“And I’m glad you tackled me in the hardware store.” He pauses, holding his silverware to the side of his plate. “I mean that.”

“You saved me that day.”

“No, Samantha. You saved me, and you don’t even know it yet.”