top of page
Writer's pictureSalline

A Fancy Date | Floppi Pages Original

A Fancy Date | Floppi Pages Original short story

(Oneshot, plot bunny)

I am wearing my best dress because this is a special day. A red summer dress with the length right above my knees, the circle-styled bottom of my dress makes it easier for me to move around. With a nice pair of light brown stilettos and a pearl necklace, my confidence has increased and I am ready to face my date. It was thanks to my childhood best friend that my make-up is simple yet alluring to the guys. Cherry red lips, light pink cheeks and a slight amount of eyeshadow to give my eyes life. My date had arrived early to pick me up. I’m quite relieved that I had finished my dress-up five minutes before his arrival. I wouldn’t want him to wait impatiently. He does not own a car but it’s not because he can’t afford one, it’s more because of… he prefers to drive his great grandfather’s 1962 black power cruiser motorcycle. It runs smoothly and has a powerful engine. I know because I rode on it once when he drove me home in a hurry so we could get the very important remaining piece of our aquarium project; the fish. This would be the second time I will ride his baby but this time, for a very romantic purpose; we’re going on our first date. To my discovery, he is very polite and a real gentleman. He held my hand like a prince would hold a princess and helped me down his bike. Maybe it’s less romantic to drive to a fancy restaurant while wearing a dress but what matters for me, is what will happen while we are in that restaurant. Perhaps talk about the salsa or enjoy appetizing desserts together. I’m not even going to lie; I have big expectations for tonight. “Chris,” he begins to say while we were waiting for our meal to be served. He allowed me to order whatever I wanted and it’s quite a surprise, considering this restaurant does not have a cheap menu. Most of the guys that my best friend would rant to me about would limit the amount of food she’s allowed to order, which is a complete turn-off on her end. “Chris.” He repeated to call me by my name. I love it when he mentions my name. I can already feel the one-sided feeling of desperate intimacy. I don’t think he has mutual feeling of loving the way I call his name. “Yes?” I respond to him with a smile, my chin resting on the top of my palms that were on top of each other. Both my elbows planted on the edge of the table. “What is it?” “Well, I’ve been thinking,” he continues to speak, the beautiful green eyes of his are hypnotizing me to lock my eyes on his, “we’ve been classmates for a long time now and this year is the first time that I noticed you. Why were you invisible to me all these years?” I shrug at him for a second there. I’m not sure if he meant that as a sweet comment or if he had a corny pick-up line just now. I forced a wider smile to show him how much I appreciate his, well, whatever it was that he said to me. I fix my hair a bit and leaned closer on the table before I give him an answer, “I wasn’t invisible all these years…” if he gave me a soppy flirtatious pick-up line then maybe I should retaliate with my own kind of comment for him. Just for our amusement while we wait for my grilled porkchop and vegetable salad. “…I was a hidden treasure waiting to be found by my prince charming.” I hope this isn’t as cheesy as it sounds. When he laughed at my reply, I knew I topped his pick-up line real good. I allowed myself to let out a giggle just to join him in the ephemeral moment of epic pick-up line exchange. “Okay. That was a really good comeback.” He asserted as he leaned back to his seat to relax, his laughter slowly dying down. “I should try that one sometime.” “You can say it to me anytime in all of our dates.” I freely give him permission to copy me off. “No,” he quickly added, “I meant, to use it on other girls.” He wanted to clarify to me. A hand gesturing that he’s laying down facts and I’m supposed to take him seriously. “It would definitely work on them.” My smile was quick to dissipate and I frown at him. It was too obvious to hide. Both my hands now planted on the table, and instead of my loving gaze, I am staring at him with intimidation. “Are you breaking up with me?” these were the first six words that came out of my lips out of reflex. I didn’t want to cry because my make-up is so good and I’d like to take a selfie of myself before I wash it off. “What? No. No. Of course not.” He immediately tells me and he reached for my hands to calm me down. “Why would you think of that?” Did he seriously ask me that question when his statement not long ago was quite offending! “Because you were going to use my pick-up line for another girl – other girls! Plural! GIRLS.” I had to be honest with him. If he doesn’t see it, then I will show him. The important part of a relationship is being honest with each other. “No, I meant, I will tell them the pick-up line if we break up.” He reasoned with me as he gave my hands a slight squeeze. But his reason did not make me feel any better. I held back my tears with a deep breath and I now stare at him with an obvious discomfort painted across my face. “Do you think of us breaking up when we just started dating?” I throw at him in case he’s still dense at the fact that he’s continuously filling my patience meter with bad impressions. My voice was breaking but I strongly held the tears back for the sake of a nice selfie after this dinner. “Of course not, babe. I never thought of that. What I’m thinking of is the future.” His voice is so sweet but he is just not convincing right now. “Look,” this time, he moves his chair close to mine so he could put an arm around my shoulder and hold one of my hands in an attempt to ease my discomfort, “my Nana told me that a relationship is not permanent if it’s in the age of at least 29 and below. Because no one is serious about it.” I could not help but react strongly against that. “I’m serious!” I raised my voice and my eyes widening like round saucers. “Well, I’m not.” The words just rolled out of his tongue so naturally that he did not even pull back when he dropped that bomb on me. I pull away from his hold and I shoot him a glare this time around. “Then why do you date at all?” “Because even if people aren’t serious, the feeling is mutual while it lasted.” He replied with a shrug. He thinks he’s such a smart punk with a pretty face – well he is – but I can’t forgive him for doing this to me! It’s been a dream of mine and he’s shattering my dream! “I take it that it’s no longer mutual between us?” He opened his arms wide for me to return to his embrace. Does he seriously still think I would? I grab my purse and got off my seat, “You could’ve at least not mentioned to me about any of this to spare me the humiliation of an early breakup!” “I am being honest with you. Isn’t that what’s supposed to keep a relationship stronger?” so he believes in that too. But… “That kind of honesty does not apply to this circumstance! I would’ve preferred that you just lied to me!” probably not the most normal thing that a girl would yell at her boyfriend. And because I shouted this time, everyone was staring at me like I was nuts. Questionable faces and confused reactions. After I let out the inner rage forming within me, I stormed out of the restaurant. I need to be somewhere away from him because I don’t want to see him right now. But I as I stomped my feet hard on the floor, my heels snapped like a twig and I lost balance. It happened without warning that I wasn’t able to grab a hold of anything and fell on my side. My dumb handsome former boyfriend rushed to my aid when I fell. “Chris!” it would’ve been magically if he caught me before I fell, but he didn’t. I had to land first before he arrived to help me up. “Are you okay? Do you need a ride home?” “No.” I didn’t sound too angry, but I shouldn’t forget my manners. “Thank you,” okay that’s done, “but NO.” calmly and emphasized. Just like what my aunt taught me. And there goes my first and last date until I reach the age of 30. Maybe by now, guys are seriously when they date.

Recent Posts

See All

Comments


bottom of page