I pulled into the Clark Kerr parking lot, excited for my date with Laney. This was my chance to impress her and to show her who I really was. I pulled down the sun visor to snag a quick look at myself before I saw her. I tied my hair back into a man bun just for the occasion. I laughed at my reflection. When had I ever liked a girl enough that I bothered with my hair?

As I walked out of the parking lot towards Laney’s dorm building, I noticed Troy’s unmistakable red truck. I stopped myself from looking directly at it. If he was in there, ducked behind his steering wheel like a coward, it was best that he had no clue I knew he was there.

What the hell is he doing here?

I fished my phone out of my trousers’ pocket. A looming feeling sprawled inside me. I knew Brick House’s truck at Laney’s meant trouble.

Ox picked up on the first ring. “Yo! What’s up, Gun?” he bellowed into his phone.

“Dude, Brick House’s truck is here at Laney’s dorm. I need some back-up.”

Ox grunted. “That dick! What’s he doing there?”

“I don’t know, but it isn’t anything good,” I scanned the parking lot looking for him, in case he was hidden in the bushes or behind a car, ready with a tire iron to knock me out. You never knew with that dude. He was more than a loose cannon. He was an A-Bomb with no self-control.

Ox grumbled. "Me and the boys will sneak up there and tie Troy's truck axle to a tree with a rope. He won't be able to follow you."

I said with caution, “Thanks, man, but be careful. That guy is mental.”

Ox clucked his tongue. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll take care of Brick House. Good luck with the girl.”

Ending the call with Ox, I felt satisfied with the plan. I could always count on those guys.

I texted Laney that I was outside in the courtyard waiting for her. Then sat down on a concrete bench. I looked around for Troy. Where was he hiding?

Laney texted back that she’d be down in fifteen minutes. I googled on my phone for what sports analysts were saying about the game on Saturday. Sports guys could be such dicks. One guy, Aaron Vaughn, said that our team was no match for UCLA’s defensive squad.

Oh really, Aaron? Go fuck yourself.

When I saw Laney, my mouth dropped open. She looked gorgeous. I stared at her as she walked towards me. I could tell I was embarrassing her. She smiled, looked away, and giggled nervously, but I couldn’t stop watching her.

She had on a mulberry mini cocktail dress on. It wasn’t super short. The hem fell right at her fingertips. The top part of the dress was lace, covering her shoulders and dipping into a V-neck, but it wasn’t a plunging neckline. The lace met with a bustier bodice that sloped in at her waist. The skirt was full and flowing.

She looked hot, despite being tastefully covered up. There was a way to be sexy and modest. Many girls were incapable of finding that sweet spot. Laney had hit it right out of the park. “You look incredible.”

She flipped her hair back off her shoulder. “Thank you.” Her hair was down, and when she tossed her hair back, I got a whiff of her sweet flowery scent. Her full lips were a purplish-red color. I wanted to kiss them right then, but I restrained myself knowing she had already told me that she wasn’t going to kiss me. I respected that.

In the parking lot, Brick House’s car was still there, ominously in the back row. I worried that Laney would notice it and then call off the date. I knew she wasn’t interested in any more drama. If Troy popped up right now ready for a fight, I was sure that we’d get more than just Troy’s daily dramatic antics. I prayed he wasn’t hiding behind one of the cars.

We walked up to my car, and Laney sucked in air with disbelief. I was on edge about Troy, so I careened around expecting the worst.

She exclaimed, “Omigod! Your car door!”

I sighed with relief. “Oh. Ya. It’s just cosmetic damage. From, you know, the other day.” I patted my crumpled door with a shrug to my shoulders.

“I guess you’re right. At least, the car still runs,” she nodded in agreement.

As she walked around to the passenger side and got in, I glimpsed across the parking lot at Troy’s truck. Damn. He wasn’t behind the wheel. No sign of him from what I could tell.

I climbed into my car and started the engine. When I pulled out of the parking lot, in my rearview mirror, I saw Troy’s head pop up from behind his steering wheel. Wow. He was in there the entire time, hiding and watching us. Creepy. And dedicated. How long had he been waiting for me to pick up Laney?

Before I made a right turn out of the lot, I saw Troy’s truck tires spinning endlessly but not going anywhere. Smoke billowed out around the truck. I could make out Troy hitting his steering wheel desperately, and I laughed out loud.

Laney smiled at me. “What’s so funny?”

I turned up the volume on the song that was playing, ‘I’m the One.’ “Oh, I just laugh when I hear this song. Who would have thought Beiber would come out with a song with Chance the Rapper?”

Laney beamed. “I love Chance the Rapper.”

“Me too. He’s awesome. Great lyricist and a man about his community,” I said as I drove away, leaving Troy literally in the dust.

I drove up to Shattuck Avenue. I could tell Laney hadn’t been to this part of town. She was quiet as she looked out the window at the passing buildings and people.

Chez Pannise is a famous world-renowned restaurant that serves a pre-fixe four-course menu. It’s one hundred dollars per person. In my senior year of high school, lots of college football recruiters would fly in and take me out to dinner to lavish restaurants. But, Chez Pannise was still my favorite restaurant on the Bay.

The atmosphere had a close intimacy. It was just the kind of place I wanted to take Laney to get to know her. The owner, Alice Waters, was a Berkeley alum and started the restaurant during the Free Speech Movement at Berkeley. The restaurant had the warm ambiance I wanted for our first date and the history behind it that I hoped Laney would appreciate.

“This place is lovely,” Laney commented, looking around.

“It’s one of my favorite places in Berkeley,” I said to her, wanting to take her hands that she delicately placed on the table into my own. I stopped myself. She said no physical contact.

“The restaurant’s owner is Alice Waters,” I informed her, eager to see if she knew who she is.

Laney interjected happily, “I looked this place up. Then looked her up. She’s a food activist, an integral supporter of the organic food movement, which is so awesome. So is my mom.”

“Your mom’s a chef?” I asked curiously.

“No. She’s a biologist who believes in providing food that’s free from herbicides and pesticides.”

“So that’s how you know so much about plants and flowers!” I exclaimed, hitting the table as if I’d figured out a secret mystery.

Laney looked out the window bashfully. “Yup. My mom went through graduate school when I was growing up. We sorta studied together. She taught me stuff she learned.”

I thought about how hard it must be for her to be so far away from her mother. It seemed she had a close relationship with her. Laney must have been an adorable, sweet little girl.

The server was a friendly woman with the focused attention of a professional server, which could be difficult to find sometimes even in the most exclusive establishments. Her dark hair was pinned back in a tight bun as she presented courses with courtesy and flourish.

My favorite course was the fennel and rocket salad with grilled Cannard Farm figs and pancetta. The pancetta with the figs was an explosion of savory and sweet while the fennel added an earthy light sweetness and crunch. Laney enjoyed it too. I saw the tasty flavors registering in her eyes as she ate.

Each course brought to us loosened Laney up more and more. She told me about her plans to work in the tech industry, possibly a startup in the Valley. “Technology is changing our world rapidly in so many ways. I want to be a part of that.” She smiled, bringing the third course, eggplant smothered in garlic-anchovy sauce, to her mouth. Her eyes closed momentarily as she savored the deliciousness. Then they sprung open. “Thank you so much for this dinner. I’ve never been to a fancy place like this before.”

“Of course. I wanted to take you somewhere special,” I said. I wanted to reach across the table and hold Laney’s hand so badly again, but I fidgeted with my napkin instead.

When the server set the dessert down in front of us, plum and strawberry sherbets with rose fruit soup, Laney’s eyes gleamed. She giggled. “This looks too beautiful to eat! I love these colors!” The dessert was a mixture of deep pinks and mauves with a swirl of rich white cream on top.

Laney was an incredible woman: strong, independent, ambitious, and fun to hang out with. A big plus: she loved food. Most girls barely ate on dates.

“I’m so happy you’re going to the game. It’s an important game too. A playoff. It means a lot that you’ll be there, cheering me on,” I said, gazing at her from across the table. She was so beautiful.

“I’m excited! Thank you for inviting me. I hope you win.” She tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear.

“We have to. Don’t forget I’m scoring a touchdown for you,” I added with a chuckle.

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten. I’m looking forward to it.” She swallowed her spoonful of sherbet then said, “Just so I know, a touchdown is when you put the ball in the hoop thing, right?” I wasn’t sure what to say. I thought she might need a lesson or two about football, but I hadn’t expected she knew so tremendously little about it. But then her mouth spread out into a wide smile. “Just kidding. I know what a touchdown is.” She laughed. “Kind of.”

I chuckled. This girl is so cool.

“You fooled me, Laney, you little minx.”

After dinner, when I walked her to her dorm building, I kept my hands to myself. I restrained myself from even holding her hand although I wanted to so badly. I said goodnight and was ready to turn to go, but she surprised me. Laney kissed me on the cheek and said, “I had a lovely time. I can’t wait for Saturday.”

I leaned down and kissed her on her cheek. Her skin was soft on my lips. “I can’t wait either.” I took a chance and cupped her chin. I had to taste her lips. She stood still and closed her eyes, so I went for it.

I kissed her. Our lips met and our tongues collided and twirled around each other. She pressed herself up against me, and I wrapped my arms tightly around her. She didn’t pull away from me, so I kept kissing her, losing myself. Her hands ran up and down my back and then along my shoulders. When our kisses became more ardent, her small hands pressed down on me. I wanted to feel her touch me without my shirt in the way. I wanted to feel her bare skin on mine.

When she finally pulled away, I yearned for more of her. She smiled shyly and walked inside. On the walk back to my car, I was overjoyed with how the night went. Laney even let me kiss her. I felt better than ever about my chances with her.