“Oh my God, Felicity. Do you think he knows how poor I am and this is some kind of frat boy prank on the thick girl?” I am hyperventilating right now.
“Shaynah Marie, you need to chill the fuck out. This isn’t a movie. Real men don’t do things like that. Besides, you are not thick, girl. You are gorgeous.”
“But how do I know that?”
“Did it feel like that?” she asks hands on her hips.
“No, not at all. It felt kind of magical. I mean, shit, I am probably reading too much into this date.”
“You’re not. What did he say?”
“He wants to cook me dinner at his place.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Nothing. That’s just like fifth date behavior after you’ve already had sex. But what do I know? I didn’t date before Parker,” she says giggling. “Are you, you know, prepared to have sex tonight?”
“Who’s having sex tonight?” Star asks walking up to the counter, going through the messages I took this afternoon.
“Oh my God. No. I am not at all prepared. I can’t even remember the last time I shaved my legs.”
“Go home and get ready,” Felicity says.
“He’s picking me up here at eight.”
“Then you better hurry.”
“Who’s she having sex with?” I hear Star ask as I grab my purse and all but run to my car. I’ll let Felicity explain this one.
At my shitty little apartment, I quickly jump in the shower and shave everything only cutting my shin three times while I do so. I blow dry my hair quickly and moisturize. I admire my tattoos for a minute. I have a lotus blossom with mandalas on my shoulder. I got that in search of Zen. I still haven’t really found it. I also have a large circle of roses on my outer thigh. I also have several red hearts all over the tops of my boobs. Those were my first. A friend did them at a tattoo party when I was sixteen. Hey, they were cute and it was free. I stare at myself in the mirror. I am not fat, per se, but there is definitely more to love. I decide at this moment to be more confident than I ever have been before. I like this guy, a lot, and I am determined to have a good time tonight, wherever that may lead.
I get dressed in a really cute long-sleeve black bodysuit and some jeans that really accentuate my ass. I look pretty good. I spray on my favorite perfume and throw on some Vans and high tail it back to the shop.
When I walk in the shop I hear the familiar buzz of a tattoo gun. I see Meridian giving Mel, our favorite biker, some new ink. His wife, Lulu, is breastfeeding their new baby in the lobby. I think he’s getting the baby’s footprints tattooed on his side. I did their first son’s footprints on his other side early last year. It was my first tattoo. You always remember your first.
“Hey, Lulu. You look amazing,” I say moving closer to her.
“Thanks, I haven’t slept in days. Can you do me a favor and hold Minnie while I use the restroom?” she asks looking exhausted.
“Of course,” I say tossing my purse down on the couch. She hands me the baby who is fussy. She tosses a cloth over my shoulder and I instinctively burp her gently. She settles down quickly and I love how much I love holding her.
I hear the little bell over the door tinkle and I look up. I didn’t realize that it was so close to eight.
“Hey, Blake,” I whisper.
“Hey, Shaynah. You have a baby?”
“Oh, no. She’s not mine,” I say laughing a little. Lulu comes back and I hand the baby over, albeit sadly.
“Thank you, Shay,” Lulu says going over to where Mel is.
“You’re welcome. Ready?” I ask turning to Blake.
“Yes,” he says. I take his arm as he leads me out to his car. A really fucking fancy Escalade.
“Nice car,” I say as he helps me into the passenger seat.
“Thanks,” he says chuckling.
As he is getting into the driver’s seat, I look at my piece of shit car. It’s a Honda, so it runs great, but it’s definitely seen better days.
“What kind of movies do you like?” he asks as he starts the car. I am surprised by the question, so I laugh a little.
“I like all kinds of movies. Romantic comedies mostly, but I also action films. My favorite movie is Die Hard. You?”
“No shit. My favorite is Die Hard With a Vengeance,” he says.
“We should have a marathon!” I say excitedly, clapping my hands and bouncing in my seat like an idiot.
“We definitely should. I have them all,” he says. I rub my sweaty hands on my thighs. I hate that I’m jumpy right now. “You okay?”
“Sorry. I’m really nervous. I am trying not to be.”