Authors: Katrina Penaflor
Chapter Four
Ren
She actually said yes. Emilie, the girl Mason and Adam were
fighting over at the diner said yes to dinner with me. They’re going to be so
pissed.
But I won’t worry about telling them until later. Right now I’m
busy scanning through pictures I’ve uploaded on my computer.
It took me a while, but I finally found it. A photo of Emilie.
I knew I had seen her before. Emilie was right, she had never met me,
but I have photographed her before.
I loved the picture when I had taken it, which I think was only a
week ago. I’m surprised that I hadn’t remembered her better from it. She was
laying on the grass outside one of the halls on campus. No one else was around
her and she had a textbook open and resting on her stomach. Her hair was in a
messy knot and her hands were behind her head.
Her body looked like and upside down T the way she was laying.
That’s why I took the picture. Her body’s shape looked so interesting in
contrast to the grass. I was on the second floor of the building and took the
shot through an open window. After taking a few pictures, I remember her
sitting up suddenly. I think she had fallen asleep and woke up surprised. She
turned around and I got a clearer picture of her face. I thought she was
attractive, yes, but I found the sad look on her face surprising and
interesting.
If I told her I photographed her like this, without her knowing,
she would probably be freaked out, or see me as some kind of a stalker. But I
don’t photograph people because I’m a creep. I just take pictures of everything
I find interesting. And she was one of them.
I’ll show them to her eventually. Well maybe. But now that I’ve
figured out why I recognize her, I need to get on with planning our date.
Am I taking her out
tonight
? I can’t really remember what
day we decided on, but tonight works. I think I’ll take her for pizza, and if I
can, convince her back to my place for a movie.
She said she wasn’t the fancy type, but I’ll see if I can think of
something nice to do for her tonight.
I pull her number up on my phone and text her.
Ren: Remember that hot guy you served at
the diner today? It
’
s me.
She quickly responds.
Emilie: That
’
s funny,
because I don
’
t remember serving any hot guys today.
Jesus this girl is salty.
Ren: Fine, it
’
s Ren. I
’
m taking
you out tonight. When are you free?
Emilie:
At seven.
Ren: I
’
ll
pick you up. Where do
you live?
She types back her address, but quickly adds another text after
sending it.
Emilie: But you better not be a
murderer. I just gave you my address, if you kill me, I
’
ll
be pissed.
Ren: Not a murderer. Just a really hot
guy looking forward to taking a really hot girl out to dinner tonight.
Emilie: Cut the sweet talk. I
’
ll
see you at seven.
Let’s hope she’s nicer than she is over text when we’re on a date.
She’s
got a bite to her, but I can’t say yet that I don’t like it.
* *
At seven exactly, I’m standing outside the door of Emilie’s apartment.
She doesn’t live far from campus, but like my place, her apartment complex
isn’t ideal.
There’s one large street light near the building, which consists
of a two floor complex with a catwalk connecting doors on the second level.
This is where Emilie’s apartment is.
I knock heavily and wait for her to answer the door. When she
does, the first thing I notice is that Emilie’s wearing her hair down for the
first time. I realize it’s slightly curly, blonde, and reaches past her
shoulders. She has on a pair of jeans and a white, V-neck, long sleeve shirt.
“You’re on time.” She tells me, almost as if she’s surprised.
“
I am. You
look nice.
” And believe me, she looks real nice.
“Thank you, Ren. So where are we going?” She asks while locking
her door.
“RJ’s Pizza.”
“I love that place. Have you had their veggie pizza? It’s the best
one on the menu.”
“No, I always get cheese. But I can try it. My car’
s over here.
” I
point and lead her over to where I’
m parked.
“This is your car?” She asks me while sounding accusatory.
What does she have against my car? It’s an older model black
truck. It’s a little dirty, but I don’t see any problems with it.
“Yeah, this is mine. Why, what’s wrong with it?”
“I hate trucks.”
I laugh because she has to be joking. “Why do you hate trucks?”
“I just know men are overcompensating with them.”
“This truck isn’t even that big.”
“Exactly.” She says flatly.
This night is already off to a rough start. “Okay, well it’s just
a car. I got it because it was something I could afford, and I carry a lot of
equipment around with me when I do photo shoots, so the bed comes in handy.”
I don
’t really
know what else to say to her.
She shrugs. “Let’
s just go get pizza.
”
“Yes. Let’s.”
She gets into the car and I close her door. Once I’m in the front seat
and heading towards the pizza place, I turn on the radio to break the silence.
I can’t tell if Emilie actually wants to be here or not. Maybe things will turn
around after we get to the restaurant and start talking.
“So, do you do a lot of photo shoots?”
I’m actually surprised that Emilie spoke first and asked a regular
question.
“Yeah, I think I told you earlier that I do a lot of senior
photos. Those usually don’t involve too much fancy equipment, but sometimes
I’ll bring lights and stands depending on what the client wants. My other
shoots, things I just do on my own that don’t pay, vary depending on what I
have time for and what ideas I have.”
She nods, as if she’
s mulling over my words.
“That’s cool that your
work is something you enjoy doing.”
She’s right. I’m lucky that I’m one of the few people who actually
enjoy their job. “Do you like working at the diner?”
“No, I kind of hate it. I work really bad hours, sometimes until
two in the morning. But I make enough money to pay for my apartment and cover
my bills, so it works out.”
“You’ll get to work a job you like eventually. I mean, isn’t that
what we go to college for?” Even as I say that, I know I’m lying to myself. I
stopped going to college for something I loved in favor of giving me a more secure
job in the future.
“I hope so.”
We arrive at the pizza place, and before I reach Emilie’
s door to open it for her, she
’s up and out of the car.
When we walk in, the restaurant smells like greasy, cheesy pizza
a.k.a
heaven. There’s mostly college kids here, it’s close
to the university, but a couple families occupy the space as well.
A hostess tells us to take any seat we want, and I follow Emilie
who guides me to a table by one of the front windows.
I think the place is locally owned. The walls are a deep shade of
red with various license plates pegged along the far back wall. There’s a small
bar set up on the right side of the restaurant, opposite of where Emilie and I
are, and rock music plays in the background.
“
Hey,
guys, I
’m Jarrod and I’ll be taking care of you this evening. Can I start
you off with some drinks?”
“I’ll take a Corona, please,” says Emilie.
“Of course, Emilie,” the waiter tells her.
“I’ll get the same.”
“Can I see your I.D.?” The guy asks me. I grab it out of my wallet
and hand it to him. “Aren’t you going to ask for hers?” I point my head in the
direction of Emilie.
“She comes in here a lot, I’ve checked her I.D. before, and she’s
all good.”
I look to Emilie and she’s smiling up at Jarrod. Is coming into
this restaurant the only way she knows this guy?
“We’re also ready to order, Jarrod. We’
ll take a medium vegetarian pizza.
”
“You got it. I’ll be back with your beers,
Em
.”
Em
. The guy calls her
Em
.
“How do you know the waiter?” I ask her.
“I come in here a lot. I told you I liked this place.”
“Is that it?”
“Yes, that’s it. What would it matter if I knew him any other way?
This is our first date.”
She has a point, but I didn’t like the thought of the guy waiting on
us having better knowledge of Emilie than I do.
“
I was
just wondering,
” I tell her, even though I
was thinking exactly what she thought I was.
This date, in all honesty, is going terribly.
“How old are you?” Emilie asks me.
“That’s kind of random.”
“I’m just trying to learn some things about you. Keep the
conversation
going.
”
“I’m twenty-three. How old are you?”
“I’
m
twenty-one.
”
“What year in school are you?”
“After all my credit transfers I’m a junior.”
“Credit transfers, so where did you go to school before this?”
“Community college. I just transferred to Rhode Island College
this year.”
That’s interesting. I was wondering why I haven’t seen her around
campus before. Our school isn’t ginormous, so Emilie just transferring this
year explains it.
“I’m a transfer student too. I used to go to the Rhode Island
School of Design my freshman year of college, but I transferred here the
following year.”
“What made you want to change schools?”
“I didn’t exactly excel academically, and I had something else going
on freshman year that I didn’t handle well. So I decided a fresh start was in
order.” Hopefully she doesn’t ask me anymore on that. I don’t want to get into
details about how my mom passed away my freshman year and that was when my
grades and school went downhill. That’s not exactly first date conversation.
“I can understand fresh starts. That’s why I came to Rhode Island.
I was looking to start over.”
“What made you pick Rhode Island?”
“I just liked that it was close to the beach.”
“That’s it? Where are you from originally?”
“
Nevada.
”
“You came all the way from Nevada to go to school here because it
was ‘close to the beach’?” I honestly can’t believe that was the only reason.
There’s more to this than what she’s telling me, but our
conversation is interrupted by Jarrod bringing us our drinks.
“
Thanks,
Jarrod.
” Emilie tells him. I nod as my form of thank you.
We both push the lime wedges into our bottles of Corona and take
our first sips.
“Are you from Rhode Island?” Emilie asks.
Changing the subject, but I’ll go along with it. “Not originally.
I moved here from Washington when I was ten, my dad is originally from here. We
moved to Newport when he got a new job.”
“That sounds like a nice place to grow up.”
“It is. I go back to the house pretty often since it isn’t very
far. Do you have family here, or in the area?”
She shakes her head. “Nope, it’s just me here.” She looks sad when
she says it, and I can’t help but wonder why this girl was willing to travel all
the way across the country to live in a state, where she doesn’t know anybody,
to live all by herself.
“
One
veggie pizza.
” The waiter places our order onto our
table and gives us each a plate. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
Jarrod walks away from our table.
“I could inhale this I’
m so hungry,
” Emilie says.
I laugh and take a bite of the pizza. I have to admit, it’s
definitely better than the cheese one I normally get. “This is delicious.”
“I told you it was the best thing to order on the menu,” Emilie
says with her mouth full of pizza. “Some days, when I’m really hungry,” she
takes another bite, “I could eat this whole thing.”