Page 47 of Operation Prom Date
His story about being at the lake with a group of friends matched up with the picture I’d seen. The image popped into my head again, because okay, I might’ve looked at it more than once yesterday after Cooper dropped me off. It seemed like proof of my failure to snag Mick, but I supposed if I took a more objective approach, a picture of his arm around another girl wasn’t exactly a smoking gun. He didn’t have his lips on Paris’s, at least, but I couldn’t help wanting to know if they had been at any point in the afternoon.
Demanding more facts would definitely not come across as casual and cool. And say he and Paris did…kiss or whatever. He wanted to take me out tonight on a real date, not just drag me along to a group hangout. That was progress, and could transition nicely to prom. “Okay. Let’s go to a movie. But I’m holding you to letting me pick.”
We went over details, said our good-byes, and I hung up the phone—before saying anything stupid, no less.
I resumed my knitting, pausing to turn up my show so I could hear the dialogue over the light clacking noise of the needles, and smiled as I thought about my upcoming date.
Mick never should’ve given me free reign to choose the movie, because I was getting a little sick of compromises. Tonight, he’d have to make one.
With that goal in mind, I balanced my yarn and needles in one hand, tapped my phone to pull up movie times, and looked for the girliest, most romantical movie out there.
…
Mick didn’t flinch when I told him I wanted to watch the romantic comedy.
The scent of movie popcorn overpowered me as we walked through the lobby—I suspected they piped the scent into the air vents, too, in the name of sales. Mick bought a bucket, asked what candy and soda I liked, and bought me those as well.
Armed with a giant Dr Pepper and sour gummi worms, we made our way into the dim theater. Mick told me to pick wherever I wanted, and I made my way to a fairly empty spot in the middle of the rows.
By the time the previews started, I was having a harder and harder time convincing myself to stay detached and cautious. I’d put a lot of time and effort into my crush, and now I got to sit right next to him and enjoy his chiseled features doing their perfect thing up close.
Yet I ate my candy, using it almost as a shield so he couldn’t grab my hand, whereas when this entire operation started, I would’ve needed it more to keep my hands busy because of nerves.
But that’s because I’m getting more comfortable around him, which is good.
Halfway through the movie, he moved my empty soda cup to the other side of him and lifted the armrest between us. Then he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and curled me close.
One Month Ago Me would’ve died and gone to heaven. And it wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy snuggling with Mick—the soapy fresh scent meant he’d showered recently, and I could feel the muscles in his arm flex every time he moved. There was certainly nothing wrong with the muscles in his chest, either.
I couldn’t pinpoint exactly why my excitement hadn’t reached levels of epic proportions until the drive away from the movie theater. He was in the middle of giving me a blow-by-blow of his last game of the season—for the record, I’d asked, but I didn’t expect him to be so detailed. I figured he’d say it was awesome, not speak in foreign terms that made me thinkThis is what Cooper deals with when I discuss my fandoms, only I’m pretty sure I explain better and at least add in a little extra flair to make it more entertaining.
And there it was. The thing holding me back from fully jumping in and squeeing like a girl at ComicCon who’d just met her favorite actor.
Instead of enjoying Mick’s cocky smirk, I missed Cooper’s easy, dimpled smile. Missed the ability to make random comments about fictional couples with smooshed together names and know that while he didn’t totally get my fandoms, he liked that side of me. I longed for the scent of his woodsy cologne, and the teasing, and the sense of security.
Ugh, I was about to mess everything up for a guy who only thought of me as a friend. A guy who’d actually balked when I’d asked him to touch my knee for a joke. In fact, almost every time he touched me, he jerked away like my skin had burned him.
Except for hugs—he ruled at hugs and seemed to be good with those.
Friends hug.
Occasionally we hold hands… Usually it’s more of a supportive gesture, oneIneed…
If he liked me as more than a friend, there was no way he’d be doing so much to help me land Mick. That was as much proof as I needed right there.
“…my house?” Mick asked.
My mind tried to replay his question, as if I had that sort of power. “I’m sorry. What about your house?”
“I asked if you wanted me drop you off, or if you could hang for a while at my house.”
I bit my lip. His gaze dropped to my mouth, and he swallowed, that kind of swallow guys did in the movies when they were thinking about the girl in a more-than-friends way. Did I really affect him like that? Did he expect more than kissing at his house?
“With school tomorrow, my mom expects me home,” I said, a strange mix of relief and disappointment going through me that I couldn’t simply let go and see what happened if I went home with him. “Maybe we could hang out at your house some other time?”
“Of course. You could come over after school tomorrow.”
“I’m supposed to go rowing with Cooper. I’m helping him train.”And with the Spring Festival race less than two weeks away, he’ll want to hit it hard, no doubt.
