“Don’t worry, hang out with me some more and I’ll have you downing those shots like they’re nothing in no time.” I have absolutely no intention of becoming a skilled shot taker but I figure now’s not the time to tell him that. Instead of waiting for my response, he goes into an in-depth story about some shot contest he entered at a frat party. He doesn’t seem to need much input from me so I just sit quietly and nod, eventually letting my mind drift. And of course, it drifts exactly where I don’t want it to go.
I wonder what Dante is doing right now?
My mind falls into its familiar pattern of fantasizing about Dante. If I called him and told him I needed him would he show up right now? Would he storm into the bar worried about me? The thought sends a chill up and down my spine. I try to surreptitiously glance at my notifications just to see if maybe he’s texted me to check in. He hasn’t. There’s no reason that he would. He’s never texted me before. In fact, I’m not sure he even has my phone number.
I give myself a mental shake and try to concentrate on Tyler who has now moved onto a story about him and his brothers pranking their high school principal by TP-ing his house. I continue with my painted-on smile and try to look engaged. It’s not fair to Tyler to be thinking of someone else while I’m here with him. Sure, this hasn’t been the best date I’ve ever been on but it certainly hasn’t been the worst. I can’t help but remember the guy freshman year that brought his mother along to dinner. That’s a story I’ll tell my kids someday.
Tyler suggests another round of drinks but I decline, letting him know I need to head home. I make sure to grab the rose that he brought me and gather up my purse while he pays the tab before we make our way through the crowd that seems far drunker now than when I first arrived. He’s placed his hand on my back in a protective gesture and is guiding me through, making sure that no one bumps into me. It only serves to remind me of how it felt when Dante’s hands were on my waist lifting me into and out of his big truck. My entire body came alive from his touch. Unfortunately, I feel nothing like that from Tyler’s hand on my back.
Once we make it outside, I show him where my car is, and he walks me over. We’re both standing a little awkwardly in the darkened corner of the parking lot and I’m not sure if I should just bolt for my car door and go or what.
“I had a good time tonight, Violet.”
“Me too, Tyler. Thank you for the drinks. I would have been happy to split the tab with you.”
“No way, Vi. When you’re with me, you’re going to be treated like the lady you are. You can expect more of that in the future.” I don’t know how to feel about his statements regarding another date. I did have a nice time but I’m just not feeling a romantic connection with him. It definitely wouldn’t hurt my crush situation to go on another date but I don’t want to lead him on if there’s nothing there. I’ll have to think about it, maybe talk about it with Bianca and Hollie. Instead of giving him any indication one way or the other, I give him my standard smile that I always plaster on when I don’t know what to say.
Tyler edges closer to me, and I instinctively hold my breath. I think he’s going to kiss me. I can feel my heart rate speed up, not in excitement but with nerves. He leans in and just as I’m steeling myself to be ready, he diverts his lips to my cheek giving me a gentle kiss. I let out a soft sigh, thankful that he hasn’t tried to push things further. I guess Tyler really is a nice guy.
“I’ll see you in class next week, Violet. Save me a seat for me, won’t you?”
“No problem,” I say before unlocking my car and sliding into the driver’s seat.
Before I can close the door, he grabs ahold of it. “Text me when you get home, okay? I want to make sure you get there all right.”
This time my smile is genuine as I nod my agreement and close the door between us. I start the engine and head out of the parking lot to the main street. The entire time Tyler is standing there in the dark, watching me, making sure that I’m okay.
It’s about twenty minutes before I reach home, and as I’m putting my key in the door, my attention gets drawn to the house next door. A light is on in the living room and I think I see a curtain move. Our poor new neighbor is probably seeing if Bianca came home to block his driveway with her car again. That girl has balls going toe to toe with a cop. I just hope that she doesn’t make an enemy of our new neighbor before Hollie and I even have a chance to meet him.
The house is silent as I set down my bag on the table in the entryway, leading me to believe that both Bianca and Hollie are out for the evening. I’m not ready to head to bed just yet and decide instead to dive into the latest Steven King novel that I bought this morning and hadn’t had time to start.
I leave the lights off and settle into our comfy couch, drawing the throw that’s hanging over the back around me. I pick up my eReader and dive into the rich fantasy world the master of horror has created.
I’m not sure how much time has passed before two beams of light cross over my face, pulling me out of the story. I wait a few minutes but the light remains steadily seeping in through the curtains. I don’t know if it’s my natural cowardice or the book I’m reading but I decide not to go check outside. The light is obviously the headlights of a vehicle and I don’t know why anyone would be just sitting in their car this late at night.
I’m getting a little freaked out at this point but remind myself that there’s a cop next door now. Sure, I don’t know him but if I ran over there screaming because someone tried to break into the house, I’m sure he would help me. That’s what they’re like, sworn to do, right? God, I really wish that Bianca hadn’t pissed him off. Just as I get up to go check that all the doors and windows are locked, I see the light move, going off into the distance, followed by the sound of a heavy engine fading away. I let out a sigh of relief. I’ve got to stop letting my imagination get away with me. This is a crowded neighborhood. There are plenty of reasons someone could be sitting in their car in the middle of a Friday night. Right?
NINE
Dante
Me:Testing.
Yes, I just sent a text to myself to make sure my phone is working. You can never be too sure. Especially when you’re waiting for a woman to let you know she needs rescuing from a bad date and you’re prepared to be her knight in shining armor.
Too bad as the hours creep on, it’s becoming more and more apparent that she doesn’t need me at all. Am I jealous? Absolutely. I’m man enough to admit it to myself. I want to be the one taking her out on a date, laughing with her, telling her how beautiful she looks, kissing her... nope, not thinking about that or anything else that she might be doing on her date right now.
Instead of being where I really want to be, I’m sitting here on my couch, in sweatpants, with the TV on mute while I try to read. Normally, reading de-stresses me. I like to immerse myself into a world that doesn’t contain my own problems. Instead, this Steven King thriller is just reminding me of all the horrible things that could happen to Violet out there all alone without protection. Yes, I’m jealous. But it’s not only that. There’s a feeling in my gut that something is wrong. A feeling that I can’t seem to shake.
I am absolutely aware of how pathetic I am in this moment but I can’t bring myself to care. I go back to my book, but after stopping to check my phone for a text from Violet another three times, I give up and put it aside. I’m filled with nervous energy and start pacing the expanse of my living room. It’s a good thing I had sprung for the plush carpet or else I would be wearing a line in it.
Why didn’t I ask her where her date was going to be? That way I could drive by and just take a peek, make sure she’s okay. Creepy? Yes. An option I wish was on the table? Absolutely.
I briefly consider calling Bianca and seeing if I can fish for the information from her. I’m sure that Violet told her where she would be. My Violet is a smart girl, she would never take off with some guy without making sure she was safe. That’s the only comfort I get as the large grandfather clock I inherited from my parents ticks away in the foyer.
I know I can’t call Bianca. Her not calling me out when I asked about Violet’s date the other day is a minor miracle. If I called her with some lame excuse now and tried to get the information from her, she would definitely know something was up. The last thing I want is for her to know I have a tiny insignificant little crush on her best friend.
Instead of bothering my daughter, I grab a beer from the fridge and settle back onto the couch, forgoing the book that’s done nothing but ratchet up my anxiety, and unmute the television. Some mindless TV is just what I need to distract myself.