My First Date

My story is the typical story of the quiet girl at the back who no one noticed until a guy decided to look in her direction. Yes, it’s predictable, a little comical and personally, I’ll say outright boring. So let’s go, just don’t say I didn’t warn you. But it’s my miracle, my solace even now that I’m all alone again.

What makes you beautiful? I bet you have to think a little before you can come up with an answer. Also, I bet you’ve never thought to ask yourself such a question; talk less of someone asking you. This was exactly the question that the idiot asked me.

“What makes you beautiful?” He asks again when I don’t reply.

I’m still staring at him. How does one answer such a question?

“My smile?” I say with a questioning tone.

“Shall I show you?”

The rain that makes some crops die, is the same rain that makes some trees stand tall.

Image Source: Pixabay

My Mum has started with her madness. Yes, madness. What else will you call waking up an obviously tired child, by 5 am, to go to a school that starts at 8 am? I groggily stand up, my anger making my eyes water a little.

“If I come back to that room, you’ll not like me!”

I contemplate screaming back, “I don’t like you now!” but quickly dismiss the thought. I enjoy starting my mornings with a jog and not a slap, thank you very much. I hurriedly put on my jogging outfit, plug in my earpiece, and get ready to start another day.

Jogging. My favorite part of the day. No thoughts, no worries, just the sound of the wind whistling past you as you slowly feel the burn on your legs and thighs. Of course, the music in my ears makes the whole journey seem divine. I wonder how people go days without it. I come back to see my mum already serving breakfast.

“It’s already 6:30 am. You took longer than usual. Hope no problem!”

Well, surprise surprise!!! The woman can be caring.

“Nope. No problem at all,” I say, going up to take a quick shower. There’s no way in hell I’m telling her anything. It’s not what you are thinking though. My mum and I have a close relationship and love each other, maybe a little too much, probably due to the fact that it’s always just been the two of us. My dad died when I was in my junior year. Car accident. I know, a very annoying way to die. No, he was not drunk or anything. Just driving gone wrong.

Anyway, the reason for my silence is simple: I don’t want to bother her. Knowing my mum, she’ll be restless throughout the day. Furthermore, the self-guilt of not being able to do anything for me in such situations is most definitely, going to make her lose her appetite for the rest of the day. And no, I’m not exaggerating. Like my dad used to say, “Some demons are best fought alone.”

Besides, it’s nothing too serious. Just the typical high school peer pressure, the ever-increasing peer pressure, of belonging to a group. I’m not beautiful, at least I don’t think I am. With big glasses that I’m otherwise blind without, cheeks too chubby for my own good, and a black wavy hair that never seems to like combs or brush, I’m no belle of the ball. But I think I have good qualities. I’m smart, I can cook (a little), and I’m an overall good person. Leave me alone.

Anyway, it’s the usual senior high hype. There’s the mean girls (I think all schools have one at this point), the nerds (me), the social misfits (me), the mean boys that suit the mean girls, the chameleons (always clamoring to be in the mean girls’ group (me in junior year)). In my defense, I was going through a rough patch. And then of course the worms, somehow they always find themselves being picked on and being made fun of by the mean group (both the girls and the boys). This is how I grouped them in my mind.

Recently though, I’ve been somehow leaning towards the worm side. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why. I don’t particularly stand out, at least I don’t think I do. If anything, I specifically go out of my way not to stand out. It’s not too much effort anyway, I have an invincible aura. Sure I’m tall, at 5’89 inches, but I’m so quiet you won’t even know a human being was there. Hence the question: Why? But then again, I suppose such people never need a reason.

I come back downstairs, quickly wolf down the food, just careful enough not to spill anything on my uniform. I don’t want to give my new found interests more reasons than there already is.

“Bye Mum!” I scream, already walking out the door to begin my short stroll to school. It’s just around the corner. It’s also why I jog so early, to avoid unnecessary eyes.

It’s lunchtime already and I walk past the hallway with my bags hanging to the side. I hear the snickering, the laughter is just loud enough to reach my ears. I sigh. Yup, this has been my life for the past two weeks now. And this was my life till I graduated.

This is not about my high school though, just letting you all know where my anxiety, shyness, and timidity all started from. Relax. That was just my daily routine for 3 years. This is about my University. To be specific, my final year at the university.

Image Source: Unsplash.com

Now, with all those experiences you’d think Fate will smile upon me and my university days will be at least, better. But no. If anything, I am more invincible now than I was then. It’s like I’m in a shell. A shell that I’m still not quite sure how it came to be. Anyway, fast forward to the present time, I’m in my fourth year. A typical nerdy first-class student that still likes the back seat, that’s me. Mum still calls me every day, even though I’ve repeatedly told her there’s no need.

I look across from my seat, adjusting my glasses a little. The “number one guy” in my set. Tall, dimpled, of African descent, and as usual, surrounded by girls. I see him stand up in fake annoyance and leave. Yes, fake because I mean, which guy doesn’t like beautiful girls around him, battling their annoying overly long eyelashes? I wonder what they like about him though. I mean sure he’s tall, smart (a first-class student), maybe beautiful (he’s that cute), and a typical party playboy but he’s also a snub. Fine, I admit it, I’m a fan. But I’m a realistic one.

We somehow ended up offering the same courses this semester, all 8 of them, a coincidence of course. It’s a coincidence, truly. But even though we’re in the same year, in the same class, in the same freaking school, he’s never noticed me. Not that I care. So you can imagine my shock when I see him walking up to me. He can’t be coming here. That’s right, I’m seated close to the back door so he probably just wants to use that door.

“Hello. Naia right?”

Ok, there are plenty of girls named Naia. There’s no way he’s standing in front of me. I mean, I always look away before he catches me staring, and even though I eat at the same cafeteria he does, I sit far away from him where I can look at him without shame. What? It’s my first time crushing on someone okay!!! Don’t judge me.

“Hello!!! Ignoring me is not going to make me go away you know”

I look up to see him smirking. “Can I help you?” I ask, wincing inwardly at how abnormally harsh that sounded.

“We’re in the same project group. The project is due next month as you just heard the teacher say.” He says sounding amused and not the least bit offended. Yup, this guy is definitely not good for me.

“I did. So?” I replied after a long pause. I love long awkward silences but with this guy, no.

“It’s not good for a beautiful girl to scowl so much,” he says chuckling a little. He goes on before I can reply. Thank God because, for the life of me, I did not have a comeback for that.

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t approach me. You look like the type that plans to communicate everything to me through a message, share the work, and it’ll just feel like two separate people doing two separate projects.” Well duh!!!

“So I took it upon me to make the first move.”

“…”

“…”

“Uhmmm… Thank you?” This guy takes uncomfortable silence to a whole new level. For the first time ever, I feel compelled to say something.

He chuckles a little, making me wonder how his actual laugh will sound like. “Why are you thanking me Naia?”

“I’m not sure what to say in situations like this,” I tell him. I’m not even lying, I’m utterly speechless. Plus, the fact he called me beautiful is still ringing in my head like an earworm I can’t get rid of.

“Why don’t we go for a stroll and discuss how we’re going to go about the project.”

HELL TO THE NO!

“Sorry. Umm… I’d love to. I really would but uh… you see… Uhm… I have a thing, with the uh… dentist. Yes, the dentist. So I’ll text you?” I’m scrambling for words and my books while trying to leave my seat before I make a fool out of myself.

Before he can even reply, I’m out the door. I’m walking so fast that I’m out of breath. What the hell?! What The Hell??! WHAT THE HELL???! I scream aloud as I plop down on my bed. How did I miss the fact that we’re in the same group? What was I doing that I did not hear the lecturer?? Oh right, I was thinking of food.

Image Source: Unsplash.com

As if my stomach heard me, it grumbled in response. I hadn’t eaten anything since the day before because I wanted to diet. Blame the dimpled idiot that apparently, is now my project partner. All his ex-girlfriends looked like supermodels, those kinds of girls that were so annoyingly pretty that you can’t hate them even if you tried. It was my last pathetic attempt to make him notice me. Who knew he finally would but because of a stupid project. The project wasn’t even that hard. It’s definitely something that model students like us didn’t need to partner up.

So why did the teacher ask us to be in the same group? I wondered for the umpteenth time on my bed. I had eaten, showered, and was now looking at my phone like it had all the answers to my dilemma. Should I text him?

In the end, I did exactly what my shyness told me to do, went to sleep. That week, The next week, and the week after that was just like what happened. Him trying to talk to me, me running away. Today was the fourth week and it was only a few days until the submission of the project. I finally texted him the part I thought he should do and started my part. Before you ask, I got his number from the class group chat. Yes, I planned to avoid him throughout. I mean, kissing him in my mind was one thing but actually talking to him? That was a whole different level. One that I definitely was not prepared for.

The day my relationship status finally changed started out like every other day. That’s right, all it took was a day. It was about three days to the last day of the Project. I was in my room, just lazing on the bed. I woke up late so I decided to stay home as it was only one class I had for the day. It was around 1 pm in the afternoon that I received a call. I looked at the phone, more than a little annoyed at the disturbance. I’ll have to start my song again. I looked at the phone, wondering who had that number. The only two persons that call me are my mum and my childhood friend, both of which I had their numbers safely stored in my contact list.

I just allowed it to ring, waiting for my song to start again. This time, I almost flung my phone in exasperation. The number was calling again. I had assumed the first time was probably agencies trying to sell a product but everybody knows that those guys don’t call twice. I look at the phone this time with growing suspicion. Who is it? I picked, not wanting to seem rude.

“Hello!”

“Hi!” a deep sexy-as-hell voice replied.

“…”

“Naia, are you there?”

“Uh… Yes. Of course,” I say clearing my throat.

“Great. I’m outside your door. Can you please open up?”

What?

I laugh nervously, “Don’t joke with me, Zach. What do you want?” That’s right, even his name was sexy and unique.

“I didn’t want to seem too forward by knocking. Please open up. It’s raining and I’m a little cold.”

Okay. Something really strange is going on here. I’m not dreaming, am I?

It was with this line of thought I stood up to open the door. Of course, I deliberated just cutting the call and ignoring all of this but a part of me was thrilled, curious even, anticipating what would happen next.

“Hi there.”

“…”

“Can I come in?” He asks after about 3 minutes of a somewhat awkward staring contest.

“Sure,” I say, shifting a little so he can enter. It’s then I take in the sight of my room. Used plates on the floor, worn clothes on the only chair in the room, and the final one that had me moving with lightning speed, an old worn-out bra on the bed. Due to the speed at which I moved, I fell down on the bed. You won’t believe I heard the idiot laughing at me. I turn, putting the bra under the bed, to see him looking at me, smiling.

Image Source: pixabay