Chapter Three
In the few days leading up to the date, I tried to prepare myself; apart from the date with Zack, I hadn’t really gone out with a guy since junior year of high school. In my senior year, I’d been so focused on getting scholarships, and so wrapped up in my mom’s decline and death that I hadn’t been able to even consider the possibility of going on a date with anyone. It just hadn’t even been on my radar. Derick got my number from Jess and sent me a couple of text messages, confirming that my friend’s offer was legitimate and that I was willing to go out with him. I said what I was supposed to — I was looking forward to it, I was happy to get to know him, all of the polite things. But my heart wasn’t really in it. I was still — in spite of the anger I felt — more than a little bit turned around and flipped over in my mind about Zack, still questioning what happened and whether it was for the best.
The night of the date, Jess pulled me into my room and went to work at making sure I was appropriate for the evening.
“Jess, it’s just dinner and a movie,” I insisted with a groan. “It’s not even someone I particularly want to impress. I can go as I am.”
Jess shook her head, going through my wardrobe quickly. “He’s taking you to a really expensive restaurant; you need to look right for that. And anyway, you don’t know — maybe he’s just your speed.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes, but I knew when Jess was in her educational mood, it was useless to argue with her. She pulled out one of the few really nice skirts I owned, a button-down silk shirt, and a blazer I’d last worn to my college interviews. I raised an eyebrow, but at least, I thought, I couldn’t be accused of leading anyone on in an outfit like that. Jess went into her own room while I changed and came back with a pair of heels that went perfectly with the outfit — taller than I normally wore, but I could manage them. She pushed me down into my desk chair and quickly did my hair and makeup; in the end, I looked like a sleek, put-together woman — kind of like my mom. The comparison made me almost want to cry; but I held back my tears, knowing that I’d just ruin the makeup and start my date off on completely the wrong foot.
I sat in the common area of the dorm to wait for the guy to show up. He apparently had quite a nice car, according to Jess; I’d never seen it myself, and I wondered if he was like the kinds of guys I’d known in high school who’d had the nicer cars — braggarts who didn’t care about anything other than their material possessions. One thing I’d always liked about Zack: he didn’t put that much importance on his possessions. I shied away from the comparison. I wasn’t going to think about Zack at all. I wasn’t going to compare him — especially favorably — to the guy I was with. I would put him completely out of my mind.
Just when I was starting to become really impatient, there was a knock at the door. I stood quickly and heard Jess’ door slam open. She was right there at my side. “Remember,” she said quietly. I rolled my eyes but nodded, and opened the door to let Derick in. He was taller than Zack by maybe an inch or two, but not as muscular; where Zack had medium-brown hair and dark eyes, Derick had sandy blond hair, pale blue eyes, and slightly freckled pale skin that had an almost-translucent look to it. He smiled at me as he stepped over the threshold, dressed in a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt that was just slightly too big for him, though the deep maroon color of it complemented his skin and hair.
“It’s good to meet you, Evelyn,” Derick said, extending his hand. I shook it quickly, feeling awkward and uncertain. He seemed like a perfectly nice guy and Jess said more than once he was, but there was something stilted, something just a little bit off-putting about his excitement. “You look lovely.”
He pulled me closer by the hand, giving me a quick hug. I could smell his green, reedy-smelling cologne, with the sweat-smell underneath that told me he was nervous.
“Have a great night, you two,” Jess said, beaming at us both. Derick turned to lead me out through the door and she shot me one last cautioning look, mouthing “be nice,” as I let myself be pulled out of the comfort of my dorm.
Derick’s car was nice — it was a relatively recent model BMW, which was the first real topic of conversation that I could actually feel comfortable discussing; the ride down on the elevator had been awkwardly silent, and the walk to the parking lot wasn’t much better. “Nice Beemer,” I said, smiling politely.
“My parents got it for me as a graduation present; not new, but with a car like this new isn’t really needed.”
He opened the door for me on the passenger side and I reached over to unlock the driver’s side as he walked around the front of the car. When he started up the car, his stereo came on, not quite blasting Hot Hot Heat over the speakers. I gave him at least a few points for having decent taste in music and tried to relax against the lush seat as Derick pulled out of the parking spot.
He let me pick the movie and I tried to choose something that neither of us would hate. It was easy for me to see that Derick was trying to impress me; there was an intensity to his gaze on me, something in the way that he kept checking to see if I was comfortable, if I was happy. It wasn’t like with Zack — and I stopped myself hard and fast in the midst of that thought. Derick was a different person from the guy I had dated before. He was a little shy; he was a little awkward. The movie I picked was sold out for the closest showing, so we had 20 minutes in the lobby to stand and talk.
“Jess says you’re the best one in the econ class,” I said, trying not to fidget or pick at my clothes.
“Oh yes,” Derick said, smiling quickly. “Economics is really fascinating if you can get into it and understand it.”
I was relieved and bored at the same time as he launched into an explanation of his theories as to how economics could explain anything and everything in the world, even how he’d been thrilled to have a chance to put his economic understanding to use in bargaining his help in exchange for a chance to impress me on a date.
When it was time to start heading in for the movie — a comedy I’d seen trailers for on TV that at least cut the difference between the romantic dramas and action flicks that were the theater’s other offerings — Derick asked me if I wanted anything at the concession stand. Since we were going to dinner afterward, I settled for a soda; Derick bought some candy he offered to share, and I found myself then agreeing to make sure I ate some of it. I checked the time on the big wall clock on our way into the theater and told myself that at least during the movie we wouldn’t have to talk much.
I wasn’t being totally fair to Derick and I knew it. He wasn’t a bad guy — he was nice and polite, holding the door for an older couple who came behind us, saying “please” and “thank you” to the ticket booth person and the concession stand person alike, and looking after my comfort constantly. But I couldn’t really see anything obvious that we had in common. He asked what I was studying and listened patiently as I explained why I went into journalism, why I wanted to go on to work in that field.
“Your position at the campus newspaper will probably put you really ahead of your peers — and it’ll give you a head start on getting internships, too,” he told me, beaming at me proudly as if he was thrilled I was thinking so far ahead.
I already thought of it, of course; for news writing, a portfolio and experience counted almost as much as the degree did. But I also knew if it came down to quitting the newspaper or preserving my GPA, I would pick my classes in a heartbeat — whereas I’m sure Derick would have found a way, in his smartest-guy-in-the-room way, to cut back on his sleep but still manage to do both. We struggled to find something that we had in common, comparing our interests in books, music, movies, and even — as a last resort — art. There was something about Derick that made me think he was subtly checking off a list in his head of expectations he had for me, that he was comparing me to some image he had in his mind of the perfect, economically sound girlfriend. There were some bands we both liked, but our tastes were mostly different; in the back of my mind, I thought to myself that Derick was probably only agreeing on the few bands we did both like just to have something in common. He liked nonfiction books while I was a fan of fiction; he preferred documentaries and realistic art while I was more into light entertainment and the modern art movement, even post-modern, from an art appreciation class I took in high school.
The movie started and we both went quiet. I wondered if Derick felt as much relief as I did. I ate some of his candy at his behest — though sour gummies are not my favorite — and sipped at my soda as I got more and more into the movie. The most convenient thing about the kind of date he chose to take me on was that there was the entire span of the three-hour movie where we didn’t, and couldn’t, speak.
My mind wandered a little bit as I watched the movie; the plot wasn’t very demanding. I thought about Zack, wondering in the back of my brain what he was doing while I was on this almost-disaster of a date. I shouldn’t have, but I pictured him in my mind at a party hosted by his frat — or maybe a sorority party down the block. He would be grinding on some girl, telling her all the sweet, sexy things he had said to me, conning another woman into sleeping with him. In spite of the fact that I knew I should just drop the question in my mind, I dwelled on it, getting more than a little irritated at him. If it weren’t for the fact that I knew full well that Derick had done nothing wrong in our date, and Jess needed me to come through for her to get help in her class, I would have just left.
After the movie, Derick managed to finagle his way into holding my hand while we walked out to his car, talking about the funnier aspects of the story. It was nothing incredibly original, but I was at least more comfortable talking about that than I would have been talking about myself, or hearing about Derick. I already knew there would be no second date; I just couldn’t make myself interested in him, in spite of the obvious evidence that he came from a well-to-do family and seemed perfectly nice. But I wasn’t about to demonstrate to him that I already given up hope of finding any kind of spark between the two of us. It wouldn’t be fair or nice to him, and on top of it, I wasn’t sure he would honor his agreement with Jess if I didn’t manage to make it all the way through the date. I was absolutely starving by the time we got into his car, and I was more than happy with the fact that we were going to dinner next.
I kept up my end of the conversation as we drove from the theater to the restaurant, telling Derick about the time I had seen Hot Hot Heat play live and how I’d managed to talk myself into a quick meeting with the band. Derick peppered me with questions about it — how I’d convinced the roadies and the security people, what I talked to the different band members about.
“Well,” I said, smiling slightly, “I had a press pass from the high school newspaper, and I basically just sort of…pressed my point with the security guy, saying even though it was a high school paper, I was a very professional type of person, and I really wanted to write an article for the school rag about the concert and the band.” I shrugged.
“And they actually bought that?” I laughed.
“Well it was partly true anyway; I did want to do an article. But I think it was mostly that I just stood there not being rude or fan girl-like, persistently arguing the point. The guy just eventually gave up and led me back to where the band was hanging out in their green room.”
It was one of the more daring stunts I had ever done in my life — the sort of thing that, looking back on it, was more the inspiration of the moment than something I could have planned. If I tried to plan an attack to get backstage, it would have failed miserably from me overthinking it. But because I had just had the idea and acted on it, I’d pulled it off.
The restaurant Derick pulled up to was obviously expensive; there were Mercedes, BMWs, and a few higher-end sports cars parked among Priuses in the parking lot, and the red, brick building had an understated sort of comfortable luxury appeal. Quietly elegant piano music filtered through the outdoor speakers, and when Derick opened the door, the smell of delicious things wafted out to greet us. When the hostess asked if we wanted to sit inside or on the terrace, Derick looked at me for my preference.
“Let’s sit outside,” I suggested; I hadn’t missed the braziers stationed around the patio — it would be comfortable enough even with the autumn chill.
We sat down and I looked at the menu; for a long moment, I was both pleased and appalled. There wasn’t a single entrée under $25, and most of them were closer to $40. Derick was definitely pulling out the stops to impress me, and I was guaranteed a good meal — something I would probably be able to remember long after my memory of my date had muddled itself into near-nothingness. I talked to Derick about the different items, trying to feel out just how much he was willing to spend — but he insisted I should order whatever appealed to me the most, without worrying about price.
“If I had to worry about what your dinner would cost, I wouldn’t have brought you here,” he said, smiling at me happily. “I just really want you to have a good time, so please, anything that seems to be the most interesting or tasty — feel free to order it.”
It was a hard decision even if I tried to take the concern of money off of my mind. There were so many things that sounded so delicious, and I was so hungry, that I couldn’t even remotely make up my mind. I was a little surprised when the waiter came and took our drink order, not batting an eyelash as Derick ordered wine for both of us and not carding either of us. I suppose if you went to such an expensive place, they didn’t really think that anyone under a certain age would be among their clientele.
I finally settled on my selections from the menu, giving into Derick’s insistence that I have one of each course: appetizer, salad, entrée, and dessert. It would make for a long dinner, but at least, I thought, there would be a good meal in my stomach and apparently wine to help lubricate the awkwardness between us. I tried to take an interest in Derick’s detailed explanations about the differences between several of the presidents and their policies, but I really couldn’t make myself do more than just nod and occasionally make comments about a particular president’s interaction with the press of their era and what it had done to contribute to current affairs.
When the appetizers arrived, I was absolutely relieved. Derick might be a perfectly nice guy, but he was tedious — and I couldn’t feel any kind of spark of interest in him. Our conversation lagged as we both tucked into our separate first courses; Derick had ordered oysters Rockefeller, while I’d taken seared scallops with a kind of crouton. It was delicious, and I savored every bite, taking only the few opportunities to talk to Derick that I had to — when he asked how I liked my food, if I’d ever had scallops before.
I sipped my wine and looked around idly; we were clearly the youngest people at the restaurant, and I wondered again at the fact the waiter hadn’t been the slightest bit suspicious of the fact two college freshmen were in the restaurant ordering wine. But I decided abruptly it was just as well no one had questioned it; it was easier to tolerate my boredom with Derick with the help of the wine and the excellent food. The salad came quickly and I used the excuse of more delight than I really felt at the dressed mixture of bitter salad greens, sweet citrus and crunchy nuts to keep my mouth full so I could avoid answering more questions about how much I liked the food.
Derick seemed to have settled in by the time the entrée arrived; at his goading, I ordered filet mignon with pommes Anna, grilled asparagus, and hollandaise sauce. Derick ordered swordfish with some kind of roasted tomato side and couscous, and seemed to be enjoying it quite a bit. I was definitely looking forward to dessert — not only because of the fact I was excited for the crème brulée, but also because once we finished dessert the night would be nearly over.
Be nice, Evie, I told myself firmly. It isn’t his fault you find him boring. One of these days, if the universe is fair, he’ll find some girl who thinks his smarts and interest in economics and politics are absolutely charming.
The waiter came and removed the entrée plates, and I tried to rack my brain for something to talk about next. I wondered to myself if Derick was finding the date as hopeless as I was — if he was certain there would be no second date, or if that decision had only been made by me. I was spared the need to come up with something to talk about, however.
Before the dessert could come out, Derick and I were interrupted by someone who rushed up to the table, looking barely dressed enough to even be allowed into the restaurant at all. As the figure approached, I thought there was something familiar about it — and then all at once I realized it was Zack. I nearly dropped my wine glass in surprise at the sight of the man I least expected to show up to interrupt my date.
Oh god, I thought with dread. I thought his name too many times. It was actually as if I summoned him with nothing more than my thoughts. I took a deep breath as Zack came up to the table, stopping short and looking from me to Derick.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him, setting down my wine glass as carefully as I could. My hands were shaking slightly at the sight of him.
“Evie, you’re making a big mistake,” Zack said, crossing his arms and looking Derick over.
“I don’t happen to think so — and besides, what business is it of yours?” Derick looked desperately uncomfortable and I couldn’t blame him; for the first time in the entire night I could actually sympathize with him.
“I went to your room to try and talk to you about this whole stupid mess we’re in, but your roommate told me you were on a date.” Zack scowled at me, his arms crossed over his chest and his dark eyes full of brittle anger.
“We broke up Zack,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm and level. “I didn’t see you chasing after me when it happened, and you haven’t exactly seemed interested in trying to fix anything. So, it’s none of your business who I go on a date with.”
“Yeah, well, Jess obviously thought it was my business because she told me you’d be here with this guy.” Zack gestured dismissively toward Derick. “No offense, dude, but you are not the kind of guy Evie should be dating.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re a fine one to talk about who I should be dating! Why do you even care? I’m sure there’s some sorority sister just looking to hop into your bed and help you keep it warm.”
Zack let out a sound like a growl, his hands clenching briefly into fists as he looked from Derick to me.
“This is a big mistake you’re making, Evie. I could really make you happy but you’re never going to look past your own stupid insecurities to even listen to me.”
I shook my head. “The only person making a mistake here is you. What the hell did you think it would accomplish to barge in on me in the middle of a date? You know what, don’t answer.” Derick was frozen in his seat, humiliated, obviously unwilling or unable to stick up for himself. “You’re wasting your time and a stunt like this is not even remotely the way to get me back.”
Zack stared at me for a long moment and exhaled sharply, stepping back from the table.
“You’re making a big mistake, Evie,” he said, turning to go. “But it’s obvious you don’t even want to believe me.”
I let out a sigh of relief as he stalked away from the patio, out into the darkness of the parking lot beyond. I covered my eyes with my hand.
“I’m really sorry, Derick,” I said, smiling wryly. “I had no idea he was going to do that — he and I aren’t even in a relationship anymore.”
Derick shakily reached out and lifted his wine glass, taking a sip. “You handled him well. I was starting to think we’d have to call the waiter over to boot him.”
I smiled weakly. All I wanted was to finish my dessert and get home, get out of the uncomfortable shoes, and take a long shower before throwing myself into bed. Fortunately, everything seemed to settle down once more as the waiter brought our desserts; I didn’t even put up a token resistance when Derick took the check the moment it landed on the table — I knew I couldn’t even afford to pay for my half of the meal, or possibly even the tip.
I let Derick walk me to my room, and even let him put his arm around my waist, feeling shaken and frustrated and depressed by Zack’s appearance at the date, even if I hadn’t particularly enjoyed Derick’s company. I still had no intention of going on another date with Derick, but I did let him kiss me good night at my door; I kept it as chaste as possible and made the excuse that I was exhausted when I could tell he wanted to be invited in.
Jess was waiting for me on the couch. The moment the door closed behind me, I kicked off my shoes and handed them to her. “Well, that was a disaster of epic proportions,” I said, sinking down on the closer chair and pulling my hair down and out of the style she had woven it into.
“Was Derick like a total jerk or something?”
I shook my head. “No, he was polite as could be. But Zack decided to barge in just before dessert and humiliate me in front of an entire restaurant full of people.”
Jess cringed. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “He came in here and demanded to know where you were, and I told him I’d set you up on a date with one of my classmates in exchange for homework help. He got the restaurant out of me and I told him like five times not to go — that it would be stupid and you’d hate it — but I guess he decided I had no idea what I was talking about.”
I leaned back, closing my eyes for a moment.
“Yeah, he came right up to the table and told me I was making a huge mistake, blah blah blah…it was awful. And Derick had about as much spine as an overcooked spaghetti noodle.” Jess grimaced again. “I will not be going out on a second date with him. If you need more econ help, go to the library and get a regular tutor.”
“I will keep that in mind,” Jess said. “The food was good at least, right?”
“It was great. Now let’s see if I can make it to bed without hurling it all up.”