Secondhand Purses Read Free Page B

was a little worried he expected me to pay. The way he’d been managing the date so far, I really figured he wanted me to pay for myself. He asked if I knew what I wanted.
    “Matt, I’m good, I didn’t bring any money.” He had the decency to give me a shocked look.
    “Vicki, of course I’m going to pay for you. I invited you, didn’t I?”
    “Um, yeah.”
    “God, what would your dad think if I made you pay? Oh my God, he would talk about it on the air all week. I’d never get another date with any chick ever again.”
    At this point it was all I could do to control my anger. Really? He was worried about what my dad thought?
    “So, what would you like?”
    “Uh, I’ll just have the first combo with a diet soda.” It was the smallest combo they had. Tiny burger, small fries. That way it would take me no time at all to finish eating and I could get out of that miserable experience.
    He winked at me as he placed the order and handed over the cash. Seriously, you’d have thought he took me to a five star restaurant and ordered me the filet mignon, or lobster, or both.
    When he brought the plastic tray with our dinners to a table near the window, I decided that I had to make the best of this date, because I only got one first date ever. I didn’t want it to be a horrible memory. I also didn’t want to go to jail.
    He tried to talk about my dad, but I kept trying to steer him away from that topic of conversation. Finally, I’d about had it. I excused myself to use the ladies room. While in hiding, I picked up my cell and asked my dad to come get me. I slunk back to the booth and waited. Matt didn’t even notice that I’d mentally checked out of the conversation. He kept jabbering on about this bit my dad did, this funny phone call he made, some interview he’d done.
    I saw my dad’s car pull in the parking lot and felt a huge sense of relief. Then anger. A lot of serious level anger. I started to slide out of the booth. This finally caught his attention.
    “Wait, where are you going?”
    I slowly turned at him, the fierce expression on my face made him recoil a bit.
    “Where am I going? Seriously?”
    He tipped his head, a look of total confusion on his face.
    “Oh. My. God. You have no idea, do you? This was my first date. Ever. The first time I left the house with a boy, waved to my parents, got into a boy’s car, went to a restaurant with him and sat at a table and ate. I will never get my first date back. I will have more first dates with other guys. But I will never have another first first date. You stole that from me. I can’t believe I let you steal that from me. For the past hour, since we left my house, you have been talking about my freaking dad . If you were that in love with him, you should have asked HIM out on a date.”
    With that, I turned on my heel and stormed out. The absolute silence in that fast food joint did not escape me, but I was too pissed off to even think about being embarrassed that I’d chewed him out publically. I reached my dad’s car and slipped inside, slamming the door possibly a little too hard. Dad just looked at me quizzically.
    “Just drive, Dad.”
    I was too wrapped up in the demise of my girlish dreams of a perfect first date to think about the consequences of what I’d done.
    “Do you want to talk about it?”
    “Not really.”
    “You know I’m here for you, no matter what, right?”
    “Yeah, Dad, I know.”
    “Love you, Vic.”
    “Love you, too.”
    I kept quiet the rest of the car ride home. When we walked through the front door, mom pulled me into a tight hug. She must have squeezed a little too tight, because I felt tears starting to pool in my eyes and slip down to my cheeks. I wiped at the offending tears with frustration, pulled away from my mom’s arms and ran up to my room. Only once I got to my room did I let them fall freely. I peeled off the perfect first date outfit and hung it back up in my closet. I started to walk away but then