Page 12 of The Keeper
“I never said that. I just think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself.” I swing my golf club over my shoulders and rest my arms on each end. “What if this date is a miserable experience for you and then you’re stuck planning some lame trip to Applebee’s for next weekend. I mean, for all you know, I’m a totally insane, crazy person who sifts through Justin Bieber’s trash looking for hair clippings.”
“Doyou sort through his trash looking for hair clippings?”
“Maybe.”
“Are you aBelieberwith Bieber Fever?”
The giggle that falls from me is relentless and I nearly drop the golf club.
“How do you even know those words?”
He grins.
“My sister has a daughter, which is where she places the blame for her ludicrous knowledge of his song lyrics, even though Iknowit’s really her with the cardboard cutout.” I laugh again. “And suggesting this bet doesn’t mean I’m thinking theremightbe another date.” He steps in close to me and lightly rests the palm of his hand on the back of my neck, his thumb tracing the edge of my jaw. “I’mguaranteeingthere will be another date.” His eyes flicker to my lips, then back up to my eyes.
I’m not sure how to respond. The laughter from just a moment before has been sucked out of the space around us and replaced with a weird tension that makes the hairs on my body stand to attention. I feel jittery and unsure what to do with my hands.
When he rests his forehead against mine and I can feel his breath on my face, I want him to kiss me. I don’t really know him and I know it would be way too fast for a girl like me, but at the same time, I can’t explain the way I feel right now.
The closest descriptor I can think of is that it feels like I’ve been shaken up inside, like the nuts and bolts that normally hold me together have fallen loose and I might collapse at any moment and melt into the ground.
After another beat, Mack steps back, releasing his hold on me, and it takes every effort I have to not show in my facial expression everything he just made me feel.
I let out a controlled breath even though I feel like gasping for air.
“Sounds like a good bet to me.”
* * * * *
Two hours later, we’ve pretty much done it all. We’ve completed a round of mini-golf, which Mack won by a landslide, followed by three trips on the go-karts, one hard collision in the bumper boats, we each took a turn in the batting cages, and about twenty minutes playing Skeeball in the arcade.
“So, I know we are somewhere in the limbo between lunch and dinner, but are you hungry?” he asks as I feed his tickets into the ticket counter.
“Sure. What sounds good?” I snatch the receipt that spits out of the machine. “Eighty-five tickets! Nice job!” He takes the receipt from my hands and we start walking towards the prize booth.
“Well, I’ve been hearing pretty awesome things about a place called In-N-Out Burger, and I was hoping to try that.”
I turn quickly and slap my hand flat against his chest, halting his forward movement.
“Woah, woah, woah. You’ve never had In-N-Out before? Where are you from? Mars?”
“Indiana, actually,” he responds, raising an eyebrow. With a laugh, he adds, “and somehow I feel like I’ve offended you.”
“Well, Indy, the fact that you have lived in SoCal for several weeks and haven’t been to an In-N-Out Burger means you have been making horrible friends since you got here.” He laughs. “Lets cash out your tickets and ride back. There’s an In-N-Out a few blocks from my apartment.”
After taking forever to decide on a prize, Mack finally picks a small stuffed animal and a few glittery jelly bracelets, which he quickly deposits into my hands.
“Make sure you wear those bracelets on our next date,” he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and leading me towards the exit. Of course, I don’t wait that long, and the bracelets are quickly slipped onto my wrist.
When we finally get to In-N-Out, the line is crazy long, per usual. Mack looks concerned.
“Do you want to come back another time when it isn’t so busy?”
I laugh.
“This place is always busy. But it’ll be worth the wait, I promise.”
He just smiles and joins me in line, taking my hand and interlocking our fingers again. I peak up at him while he studies the menu. I might not date often, but I’m also not blind. I usually notice attractive men, but I usually try to get to know guys better before I allow myself to develop an interest. Who they are, what they value, how they approach the world. Why would I want to begin something with someone who I have nothing in common with or who makes really horrible choices? It sounds like a waste of time and energy.
