You Again: Part 4
A College Romance Novella
Part Four
It takes a few days, but I’m finally able to write a few things in the gratitude journal.
One: I’m grateful that I haven’t been hurt on these terrible dates.
Two: I’m grateful there are millions of fish in the sea.
Three: Even though I think this might change someday, I am grateful Shelby isn’t dating Luke.
The knowledge that he’s hanging around because he’s training makes me slightly less hurt every time I see him, but a part of me still hopes I might come back to the apartment one day and he won’t be, you know, hanging around and metaphorically driving the knife in.
By the time Friday rears its unpredictable head, I am both apprehensive and fragilely hopeful about my date with Sean. We’re starting with dinner, which means I’ll at least get a meal out of this date, and then we’re heading to a local art exhibition where I get to pretend I know anything about art.
He told me via text that he wanted to take me someplace nice, so I wore my version of a little black dress, form-fitting with cap sleeves, and curled my hair to perfection. I also put on my heels, which aren’t the tallest but are tall enough to make me feel elegant and ready for a nice night out. I stare in the mirror for maybe a minute, trying to manifest a good evening. I imagine myself laughing over a fancy dinner and talking about how delicious every is. I imagine walking with Sean through the exhibit, nodding and smiling as he talks about art, and occasionally braving a comment about the color or style of a piece. I imagine Sean being so kind that, even for just tonight, I forget about how great things were with Luke. I imagine Sean pushing open a door in my heart and just… setting a foot there. A foot with the option of more with enough time and effort.
Maybe Shelby is right. Third time will be a charm.
The doorbell rings, and I’m so buzzy from my manifestation that I don’t even care that Luke is standing in the living room when I enter, or that he openly stares. All I register is that I must have done a good job getting ready tonight because he’s looking at me like he used to look at me.
I fling open the door, and Sean is there with a big smile and a suit—a suit!—and tie. “Wow, Ava. You look amazing.”
“Thanks.” I brush a lock of hair behind my ear, but only because I’m being coy. “You clean up nice, too.”
He laughs. “Yeah, this is better than the lab coat, right?”
“Way better.” I giggle, and truthfully, I don’t even want to turn to see if Luke is watching this exchange.
“Shall we be off?” He offers me his arm, and I take it with relish.
“We shall.” As we work our way towards his vehicle, I find myself grinning ear to ear. “Gosh, we are so fancy right now.”
“That’s what I’m going for.” He opens the passenger door and lets me in. “I hope you’re an adventurous eater, because I made reservations at the new French restaurant over on Third Street.”
I gasp, but wait until he gets in on his side of the car to continue. “That one they wrote about in the campus newspaper? That might be five stars even though this town is sort of tiny?”
“That’s the one.” He waggles his eyebrows at me and adjusts his tie. “I know it’s going to be ridiculously expensive, but… I’ve heard everything is phenomenal and you are worth it.”
“Awe.” I legitimately might melt. My manifestation is working! He’s been so gentlemanly and sweet, and I’m finally about to get dinner. “That’s just… so kind of you.”
“Well,” he says as he eases into the street and heads toward the edge of town. “I have wanted to take you out forever. I just had to wait for my chance.”
My heart flutters, and now I know manifestations are the only way to go. This night is just getting better and better. Sean and I talk the whole way to the restaurant, which is a thirty-minute drive, but feels like a five-minute drive because we are having so much fun. He makes me laugh, we find out we have a ton of things in common, and when he pulls up in front of the fanciest restaurant I have ever seen in my life, I almost pinch myself to make sure I’m not hallucinating. We’re behind a few cars, and I realize they’ve even got valet parking.
“Oh, Sean, this looks super pricey. Are you sure…” I want to ask if he’s sure he can afford to take me here, but I don’t want to sound rude. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to spend a bunch of money to impress me. I’d be happy with burgers or something.”
Sean’s gaze is locked on the valet guy ahead of us, but he still answers me. “It’s fine, I promise. I want to do something nice for you.” He cranes his head out the side window, searching for something, then pops back in and narrows his eyes out the front windshield. “Do you happen to see if they’ve got a sign about the parking fee? That was one thing I couldn’t tell on their website if they had a free parking section or not.”
“Oh. Um.” I scan the drive and the valet booth, but I don’t see anything about the cost or if there’s a free section. “I guess you can ask them?”
A second later, we’ll pull up in front of the restaurant. A man in a full white suit opens my door and helps me out. “Thank you.”
I stand on the restaurant steps, waiting for Sean to join me, but he’s not yet out of the car. He’s talking with the valet guy, nodding, and pointing around the building. He must be getting directions. Probably to the free parking. I lean down and catch his eye.
He smiles. “I’m just going to park this around back, and I’ll meet you in a second.”
“Sounds good.” I back away from the drive and stand near the double doors. A slight breeze ruffles the ends of my hair, and I turn away to admire the view through the large windows. This place is seriously divine. It’s all candles on tables and white linens on every surface— even the chairs— but somehow still airy and beautiful. I count at least three crystal chandeliers, and every member of the waitstaff I see is dressed in all white. They must never spill anything.
“Here we are.” Sean appears behind me and puts a hand on my lower back as another guy in a white suit opens the door for us. “Sorry about that.”
“Did you get parked okay?” The scent of buttery croissants and something herby and rich meets my nose. I have to withhold an embarrassing “yum” noise. I’m so engrossed by the tantalizing smells that I almost miss Sean’s reply.
“Yep, it’s worked out.” Sean checks us in with the maître d, and a moment later, we are whisked away to a table in the corner. He even pulls my chair out for me, and I slip into the cushioned thing like I plan to live here.
Thankfully, the menu has English translations, but the dollar signs next to each item don’t need a translator to make my jaw drop. “Sean.” I gape at him. “This is too much.” How can I pick something when even the cheapest item on the menu would clear out my bank account?
He waves me off like I’m being silly. “I told you. I’ve saved up. Pick whatever sounds good to you.”
“Um… okay. If you’re sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Even with Sean’s assurances, I wind up picking the cheapest thing on the menu. A lobster bisque that better be amazing because it’s still freaking expensive for a single bowl of soup. When the waiter comes, Sean isn’t having my frugality. He orders two appetizers, three entrees (including my soup), and two desserts.
I try to stop him, to lie and say I couldn’t even eat everything, but he’s all grins and insistence. “Please, Ava. Let me spoil you.”
After being dumped, after two too many terrible dates, I finally give in and return his smile full force. “You are just so sweet.”
His smile turns up, and he pulls out his cell. “Here, there’s this fun trivia game I want to play while we wait. Can you download Trivi-Tap?”
I’m in such a good mood, I don’t even argue that I think having your phone out on a date is rude. He wants to play a game? That might even be more fun than just talking. “Sure.”
My battery is only at 30%, but I figure the food will get here before it drains it too badly. The game turns out to be a riot. Sean and I sync our phones, and then the app asks us questions. Whoever gets the trivia question right and first gets the points. Since both of us are just competitive enough to make it fun, we end up playing even after our appetizers arrive, twenty minutes later. Apparently, the French like to take their meals slowly, because it takes a further thirty minutes for entrees, and another twenty for dessert. But honestly? The whole thing feels like ten minutes, because the food is amazing. So rich and somehow delicate that my taste buds might explode with joy. That and the game has me rolling with laughter because some of these questions seem just too bizarre to be true. Also, I’m beating Sean, and he’s not even mad about it. This honestly has been just the best night. I can’t wait to see how well it ends.
I try not to linger too much on my manifestation of a sweet, goodnight kiss and butterflies that make me forget Luke entirely, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping that turns out to be the actual outcome.
Sean asks for the check, and I realize my battery is literally at 3%, but that’s okay. I won’t need it at the art show, which—yikes—is ending in less than an hour. “We’re not far from the exhibit, are we? It’s closing soon.”
“Yeah, I noticed that, and no, it’s like a five-minute drive. We might have to enjoy the art a little faster, but we should still get a look around.”
The waiter sets the check on the table, and Sean reaches into his suit pocket for his wallet. He purses his lips and checks his other pocket. I feel a slight pinch of worry when he checks both pant pockets and comes up empty.
A blush flits across his cheeks as he looks first at me, then the waiter with wide eyes. “Um, I think my wallet fell out of my pocket in the car? I’m just going to go grab it, and I’ll be right back.”
But when Sean tries to stand, the waiter—a large man with hands the size of frying pans—presses him back into his seat. “I don’t think so, sir. Do you know how many kids we have had in, trying to dine and dash, as you say? No. No one leaves the table until the check is paid in full.”
At that, the pinch of worry turns into a cascade of terror.
Sean looks at me, desperate. “Ava, I’ll pay you back, I swear, but can you cover this?”
Tears prick my eyes as the realization that something very, very bad is about to happen to us hits me. Because no, there’s no way I can pay for this. “I only have like fifty dollars in my account.” I’m a poor college student, and I had to quit my job at the library to avoid running into Trever, so my funds were already tight. I would not have come to this restaurant if I’d known I was the one who’d end up paying!
But Sean throws me under the bus anyway. “Maybe you have more than you think?”
The waiter turns to me and holds out a hand. “I’ll run your card, miss.”
Oh, this is going to end so badly. I fish my wallet out of my purse and, with teeth gritted together, hand over the card.
The waiter leaves, and I narrow my eyes at Sean. This night went from magical to miserable in about ten seconds flat. And I know once the waiter comes back, it’s going to get even worse. “It’s not going to cover it. I promise it won’t.”
“Maybe with some of it paid, he’ll let me go get my wallet.” Sean moves like he’s going to get up, and another waiter comes to stand guard at our table. “Or… maybe not.”
When the waiter comes back, even his mustache looks angry. “The card took $75.21 off the bill. You still owe nearly $100.”
I’m ready to melt into the chair from embarrassment. The surrounding tables are starting to notice our dilemma, and the gossip is starting. Sean is red as a stop sign, and he’s begging the waiter to just let him go get his wallet. He says something about leaving me here for collateral, but the waiter just shakes his head. “No. You will work off the amount you owe, and then you may leave.”
“Work off the amount?” Sean asks.
The waiter nods and snaps his fingers at us. “Come with me. You will clean dishes. You will clean dishes until you have earned the amount you tried to cheat us out of.”
“I wasn’t trying… I have the money, just not… here.” Sean turns to me with more than an apology on his face. He looks like he’s wishing he’d never been born.
And I’m wishing I hadn’t come on this date.
#
The waiter declares that we will be “earning” minimum wage. Fifteen dollars an hour, which means the two of us will earn $30 an hour. In order to pay our debts, we have to wash dishes for the next three hours. So much for the art exhibition.
We’re given aprons at least, so my dress won’t be ruined, but I’m so furious at Sean, I can’t even look at him as I plunge my hands into the soapy water and begin my punishment.
“I’ll pay you back, I promise.” Sean is next to me, rinsing and drying. “As soon as I can, I’ll withdraw cash and pay you the amount they took.”
“I’d be happier if you had used your phone to do Apple Pay or something. Avoid this whole situation.”
“Oh, I’ve never set that up…” Sean bites his lip and forces out a laugh. “Guess that’ll teach me not to stay caught up on technology.”
I pause my washing long enough to glare at him. He stops trying to be cute and goes back to work.
While I wash, I fume. If he doesn’t pay me back, I’m going to starve. I won’t have any money for groceries. I can’t mooch off my roommates, and come the end of the month, I won’t be able to make rent. I guess I could beg my mom for some cash to hold me over, but she’s going to wonder what happened to my money. I’m loath to tell her how my dating life has become not only awful, but a financial drain as well. I shake my head and scrub with more vigor. I should have listened to my own advice. Don’t count on dinner!