Chapter 5
William had never been on a date before.
And no, he would not, would never count the time he’d taken his second cousin to the prom. She wore headgear and was partially related to him and complained about her allergies all the time. They had only danced for one song and she stepped on his foot with her horse hooves three times and they decided to call it a night. It was awful.
This was absolutely and completely different! Buffy was in no way related to him. She wasn’t called up by his mother and forced to attend so that he could at least have one social event of his youth to remember. She didn’t have curly red hair that looked like a scouring pad, a back brace, and an affinity to poodles.
Buffy was beautiful and experienced and had probably been with guys far more exciting than William. They probably said witty things and knew how to be sly and flirtatious without seeming like a deviant. She probably asked them all sorts of things because she was interested and not because she felt obligated. She probably spent all day thinking of what outfit to wear or how she’d style her hair. But not for William. She’d lost a bet and her punishment was an evening with him.
He could kill Wesley.
The date was hours away and he was already digging his own grave, prepared for the worst-case scenario, which was exactly why Wesley had come to the rescue, being the veteran of females that he was, having touched three girls on the breast.
The two men sat in William’s dorm room, Wesley at the desk and William on his bed, a life-size female mannequin perched beside him. Her name was Lucy and she was often used for scientific experiments such as a decoy or a target, so she had several holes marring her plasticine frame. This experiment, as Wesley had said earlier, was to test William’s knowledge of a woman’s erogenous zones and how to make the first move.
“So you’re watching a movie together and twenty minutes have passed,” Wesley said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose before he folded his arms very seriously. “What do you do?”
William pursed his lips, feeling ridiculous, but said, “I look to see where her hands are. If she has one on the armrest between us, then I go for it. If it’s still in her lap, I wait for a sign.”
“Right. Now, show me how you will take Buffy’s hand.”
He sighed and roughly grabbed the mannequin’s hand.
“Well don’t manhandle the poor girl! Is that how you’ll really do it?”
“Wesley, this is ridiculous! Of course that’s not how I’d do it! It’s a bloody mannequin!”
Wesley slowly closed his eyes and shook his head as a father might do if he were especially disappointed in his child spawn. “If you aren’t going to take this seriously, then I fear the worst for you.”
William sighed through his teeth. “All right, I’d do it this way. Happy?” He curled his fingers around the mannequin’s hand and stroked the back of it with his thumb one time.
“Very good! Now, if she seems receptive to that, you can wait exactly five minutes and then go for the knee.”
“Five minutes,” William said quietly, logging that tidbit away for later. “Ok, it’s been five minutes so I’m going for the knee.” He released his grip on the mannequin and then moved to place his hand on her knee, smiling a bit to himself. “That was easy!”
“Now, you lean close,” Wesley said, watching as William followed his instructions, “right, just like that, and slide your hand up her thigh while you breathe softly in her ear.”
William clicked his tongue and narrowed his eyes at his friend. “She’ll think I’m a pervert! I’m not going to breathe on her.”
“Well, if you’re so sure how to do it—”
“This is pointless!” William stood up and Lucy fell over, her blank eyes staring at the ceiling. “You and I both know it’s going to be a disaster so why are we even bothering with Lucy?”
“Because you like this girl and she’s nice and funny and gets along with all of us and she’s the hottest girl that any of us would ever date so please, please let us live vicariously through your efforts.”
William groaned and ran his hands down his face. “It’s just a bit of fun for her. There’s no use in trying.”
“Then tell me why Slave 1 and the Millennium Falcon are still shoved on the top shelf of your closet if you aren’t trying, in some way, to impress her?”
William felt guilty that he’d taken all the evidence of his nerdiness and hid it in his closet before Buffy and Wesley had arrived last night. But Wesley had sprung her on him without much preparation and he wasn’t thinking too clearly. He had thought she would judge him for it but the more he got to know her that evening, the more he learned that she probably wouldn’t have cared. But if he hauled it all out now, then she would know he was ashamed of himself and wouldn’t that speak poorly of him? This girl was confusing the ever living shit out of him and he wished he knew what to do.
“I don’t know how to…I don’t know how to act around her when it’s just the two of us. She actually believes that I think she’s stupid, that I wouldn’t want to share anything with her because she couldn’t grasp it. And I choked. I was dumbfounded that she even had any insecurity at all and I tried to explain but that’s when you and Andrew showed up. And the three of you can joke and talk like normal people but I…”
“You can, William. You just think about it too much. When you aren’t so bloody focused on what to say and simply talk to her, you do just fine! And she was flirting with you.”
William smiled in embarrassment. “She was?”
“What’s my punishment, William?” Wesley said in a high falsetto, batting his eyelashes. “Oh, punish me! Please!”
They both started laughing and William felt slightly better, though he knew the fear and horror of his date would soon begin torturing him once again. He’d take the small reprieve from his inner turmoil now, though.
“So,” he said, a bit of a confident gait in his step as he waltzed to his closet, “should I wear the turtleneck? Mum always said I looked nice in that.”
Wesley shrugged. “I really cannot say. Though I do know that whatever a mother suggests to a young man to wear, the young man would be wise to always do the opposite.”
“Good point.” William scratched his head as he looked over his wardrobe, unsure of what to wear. “That’s it. Call Andrew.”
Wesley agreed. “He is always sharply dressed.”
* * *
The tips of Andrew’s fingers touched beneath his chin. His eyes were narrow slits. His head was tilted to the left as he inspected his work, circling it slowly, allowing his eyes to flit over every inch to check for any flaws. For the past couple of years that he and William had been friends, he had secretly always dreamed of this moment. Of course, he would never admit that aloud, but Andrew had always known William’s secret potential. He often caught himself thinking about William and how if he’d only do this or only changed that or if he ever stood up straight that he would show the world what a handsome man he was.
Andrew wasn’t gay. He just appreciated William and all his manly attributes that had been hidden away from view for the past nineteen years of his life. But Andrew wouldn’t say no if he were dared to kiss him once on the lips. No tongue.
“Yes…I believe we might have a winner,” he said thoughtfully.
William rolled his eyes. “We’ve gone through my entire sodding wardrobe, I should hope so!”
“Ah-ah, young Jedi. Patience you must have.”
“Complain he must not,” Wesley added.
William sighed and walked over to the full length mirror on the inside of his closet door to check out his attire. He had on a dark blue button up shirt, the one he’d been looking for the previous night, un-tucked. This had caused quite a commotion between him and Andrew, but Andrew had insisted that if he tucked his shirt into his jeans that he would never speak to him again. Accompanying the dark blue jeans and shirt was black suit jacket that he had worn to his grandmother’s funeral. The only shoes he had aside from his sneakers and dress shoes was a pair of lace-up combat boots that he’d bought for his Halloween costume the year before. He’d dressed as the Knight Rider and never thought he’d wear them again. Andrew had resurrected them from a corner of his closet that had been covered with moth-eaten sweaters. But if he didn’t say so himself, he looked pretty good, all things considered!
For the first time, he wished he’d had the notion earlier to cut his hair before the date but there wasn’t any time for that now. He put his wire-rimmed glasses on and turned to face his comrades, holding his arms out wide.
“Well?”
Wesley looked up from the copy of Star Frontiers: Alpha Dawn that he was reading, a bit of research for the campaign he was creating for their next D&D meeting, and shrugged.
“You look fine.”
“Fine? He looks fine?” Andrew closed his eyes and jutted his chin out as he gasped, offended. “I just spent an hour creating this masterpiece!”
William shook his head and smiled a bit, walking over to his dresser. He opened the top drawer and pilfered through the crap he kept there in search of some cologne.
“Where is my Cool Water?”
“No. No!” Andrew almost flailed his arms. But he refrained. “You are not putting that grocery store toilet water on!”
“Josh Holloway was a model for the Cool Water ads,” Wesley said, hoping that he was helping his friend out, mentioning the Lost actor.
“I love Sawyer as much as the next man.” Andrew frowned at his choice of words. “You know what I mean. But that doesn’t mean that everything he touches is gold. Cool Water is what trashy men and teenage boys wear.”
“I’m a teenager.” William shrugged.
“You’re almost twenty! Now smarten up and act like a man! I’m getting the Drakkar Noir.” Andrew threw his hands in the air and exited the room to retrieve his much more manly cologne from his quarters.
* * *
His confidence had melted by the time he was ready to leave and his nervous fretting began. He thought maybe he should bring her something. A card seemed weird. Would she like candy? If so, chocolates or something else? It was just a lost bet and all. She may not even think it was a real date and perhaps he shouldn’t be thinking about bringing her something.
But it was a real date to him, no matter what she thought, and his mother brought him up properly. So he bought a dozen red roses and felt slightly better about it. When he arrived at her door, though, he realized he was ten minutes early. Being very early was just as rude as being late, though he wasn’t going to simply stand outside her door for ten minutes. But he could hear her talking to someone inside and she was either extremely pissed off or very, very traumatized about something. He swallowed, and decided maybe he should leave. Maybe this was an awful idea. Maybe—
“You,” Cordelia said when she flung Buffy’s door open.
William’s mouth dropped open to speak, his hand clutching the bouquet tightened around the stems.
Cordelia shut the door as she came out into the hallway. She looked down both directions of the corridor, folded her arms, and leaned forward to whisper, “This is not a good time.”
His shoulders fell and he exhaled. “But I thought—”
“Look. She’s…she’s really upset and I think if she sees you with your…hey, wait a minute.” Her eyes narrowed and she finally looked him over. Then she smiled. “You bought her flowers?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down and he looked at the flowers in his hand that were vibrating from his own trembling. “Should I not have?” God, he was going to vomit everywhere. He was nervous enough before he’d come to Buffy’s floor and now with her friend sizing him up and probably about to say something cruel, he didn’t know how much more he could take.
But Cordelia wasn’t a heartless harpy, as he thought originally. She seemed almost giddy. “Are you nervous?”
He nodded awkwardly. “If it’s a bad time for Buffy I c-can…I can leave.”
She chewed on her lip, still smiling a bit, her eyes landing on his suit coat. “Tell you what. Why don’t you wait in the rec room down the hall and come back in five minutes. I’ll handle it.”
“B-but, if you’re sure…”
“I’m sure.” Cordelia reached for the doorknob behind her. “Don’t you dare go anywhere! Just wait for five minutes and come back.”
“Ok.” He sighed dejectedly and walked down the hall, the rose petals pointing to the floor. If Charlie Brown music played at that moment, he would not have been surprised.
* * *
After exactly three hundred seconds, and no he did not count them off in his head, William made his way back to Buffy’s door. He straightened his lapels, ran his hands through his hair, cleared his throat, and knocked.
Buffy opened the door, and every ounce of breath in his body left at the sight of her. She wore a black dress with those tiny strap things on the shoulders. For him. She’d put a dress on for him. Curled her hair and wore heels. He could not speak, save a tiny whimpering noise, and that’s when he noticed how red her nose was, how splotchy her cheeks were, and how bright and green her eyes were shining from tears she’d wiped away.
Before he could ask if she was all right, she smiled brightly and he felt as if he were staring at the sun. “You look wonderful,” she said softly.
“I do? I-I mean, thank you. You look wonderful. As well.” He gulped. God, he was an idiot.
“Come inside.” She stepped back and opened her door wide for him to enter.
The first thing that hit him was the scent of her room. It lacked the musky, dirty sock odor of the men’s dorm rooms and instead smelled of pure girl. He could live in that smell, he decided. Then his eyes landed on a pink comforter on one of the beds, lined with white lace ruffles and a matching stool by a vanity, the top of which was covered in makeup and perfume bottles. That had to be Buffy’s side. The other side, her roommate’s side, was boring and dull and lacking the personality that Buffy possessed.
There were necklaces hanging over the mirror attached to the vanity and a stuffed animal in a tiny wicker chair sitting in the far corner of the room. He could have sworn he saw pompoms beneath the teddy bear, but he wasn’t sure and she was putting her hand on his arm so he didn’t have time to register.
“Are those for me?”
“What?”
“The flowers?”
He stared at her for a second before he realized what she was asking. “Oh, yes.” He let out a shaky laugh and roughly extended his arm towards her, almost hitting her in the chin with the roses. “S-sorry, I’m sorry.”
She smiled again and took the flowers from him. She took an appreciative whiff and then said, “Thank you. That’s very sweet of you. I’ll just put these in water and we can go.”
As he watched her turn around to leave for the bathroom sink to deal with the flowers, he finally noticed Cordelia standing there, her arms folded, an eyebrow cocked high, and a knowing smirk on her face. He smiled nervously at her.
She walked over to him and whispered in his ear, “Deep breaths. You’re turning green.”
Instead of being insulted by her comment, he was grateful and he nodded as he took a deep breath. “Is she all right?”
“She will be. Just had a run in with a jerk. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Are you s-sure that this is a good idea?”
“Positive. Just be nice to her.”
He frowned. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I be—”
But Buffy had returned and he couldn’t speak to Cordelia any longer because he was busy staring at the gorgeous girl in the tiny black slip dress.
“Ready?” she said, reaching for her purse.
He smiled dumbly and nodded, making a tiny choking noise when she curled her hand around the crook of his arm. He should probably start walking or moving.
“Bye! You two have fun!” Cordelia pushed him a bit and he was able to take the first step, leading his date out into the hallway. He wouldn’t say another word to her until they arrived at the restaurant.
And that was only one thing, which was, “Did you enjoy your meal?”
Perhaps he could have started a conversation with her. Commented on her dress or her hair and how shiny and lovely it was. Perhaps he could have mentioned that the dish she’d ordered happened to be his favorite. Maybe he could have said a vast number of things but all he could do was stare at the table and eat his meal and avoid eye contact. Until the bill came, and he’d asked her that ridiculous question.
She had only nodded in reply.
* * *
“So, did you enjoy your classes today?” He hoped the volume of his voice wasn’t as loud as it sounded in his head when he asked her that. Maybe it was the long stretch of silence that made it sound so abrasive. But he was proud that it had only taken five minutes for him to come up with something to say as they left the restaurant.
“I only had one at noon. Creative writing.”
“You take creative writing?”
“Yeah. I like poetry. I’m not very good at writing it but I like reading it.”
He smiled softly at her. He never would have guessed her to have any interest in those sorts of things. “I-I like poetry.”
She looked up at him and smiled, and he turned his head straight forward, his eyes wide. Why couldn’t he talk to her? She’d been sullen and seemingly bored all through dinner, and he knew she was thinking about whatever had upset her earlier that day. He was making a catastrophe of their date. He had to grow a spine or else he was going to ruin his chances of even keeping her as a friend.
“You do?”
“Y-yes. I-I-I…” He closed his eyes and stood stiff, halting her movement as she had one hand linked around his arm again, something he should have realized was still a sign that she was interested. But he was too focused on his own nerves to read into it.
“William?” He felt her hand move from his elbow to his bicep, rubbing it soothingly and he opened his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He swallowed and looked at the ground. “I-I’m…I’m all right. It’s just that…can you please tell me what happened?”
She took a step back and frowned a little. “William, I don’t think we—”
“It’s just that I don’t want you to be upset and it’s been bothering me all night long, wondering what happened. You were crying and I can’t help but think that your friend forced you to…” To come out with me, was what he’d wanted to say, but he trailed off before he could embarrass himself. He exhaled and shoved his hands in his coat pockets.
“Do you really want to know?”
He looked up at her then and nodded.
She sighed. “I sort of…got dumped yesterday morning.”
She was looking at him as if he were supposed to say something to that, but all he could think about was that he really didn’t mean anything to her, that this date was only a lost bet to her and that she had no intention of ever seeing him in this way. How could she if she was crying and woeful about some git who’d been an idiot and left her?
She folded her arms beneath her breasts and said, “I tried to tell you that we shouldn’t talk about it. Look, this whole evening has been weird for you and I know you’d rather be somewhere else so maybe you should just take me home.”
“What?” She thought…and now she was looking embarrassed and nervous and backing away from him and without thinking he reached out and grabbed her arm. “I don’t want to take you home.”
She tilted her head and looked at him shyly. “Really?”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Really. I thought you… Buffy, do you want to be here?” Please say yes. Please, please, please!
“Yeah. I’d like…” She shrugged and he could have sworn he saw her cheeks turn pink but he couldn’t really tell in the moonlight. “I’d like to get to know you, William. I know I’m probably not like the girls you’ve dated before but—”
He laughed loud, then cleared his throat and smiled. “No, you aren’t like the girls I’ve dated before.” Because they don’t exist, he added silently. She wanted to be with him. This girl, the most gorgeous woman he’d ever known, wanted to be with him. Didn’t want to leave even after he’d made an idiot of himself at dinner. She thought he was the one who didn’t want to be there! How the hell had that worked out?
“You’re exceptional,” he said, smiling coyly before he looked at the ground. He felt her hand come around his arm again and he dared a glance, seeing her shining eyes as she smiled up at him.
“So where are you taking me, William?”
They started walking. “I thought maybe you’d like to see a movie.”
Her nose scrunched up and she shook her head. “I’m not really in the mood for that. I just got you talking, you know.” She nudged him playfully and he laughed.
But he really didn’t know what else they could do. And how could he practice his hand holding, five-minute-wait knee-grab suaveness if they weren’t in the environment he’d associated with the move? There was only one thing he could think of. She’d either laugh or laugh really loud, but he’d drawn a blank and he had to say something. He, Wesley and Andrew always had fun when they went together. But the three of them were world class idiots, so it was probably an awful idea.
“Do you like miniature golf?”
Buffy stopped, looked up at him with wide eyes and a tiny smile. “I love miniature golf.”
* * *
As soon as he’d suggested it, he realized a problem. He didn’t have a car and the golf course was a good three miles away. Wesley had always driven them.
“So, where’s your car?” she asked, since they’d been walking aimlessly for a while.
“I uh…I sort of don’t have one.”
She chewed on her lip and looked behind her, then back at him, crestfallen. “Well…I don’t either. That sucks. I love that place.”
William was not going to blow this. He was not. He would call a fucking cab if he had to, just to get her smiling again. “We could take a cab,” he suggested with a tiny shrug. “All I have is my bike.”
“I have a bike! Oh my God, let’s go ride our bikes to the golf course!” She was bouncing and beaming up at him. “Come on! Please, please, please?”
“Really?”
She was grabbing his hands and walking backwards, smiling brightly. “Yes! Come on, it’ll be fun.”
He might giggle if she kept making his dreams come true. “All right, Buffy.”
“Race you!” And then she was running towards the bike racks in the parking lot and he was helpless to do anything but follow.