Just Friends by Roxanne Riley
Chapter Five
Lizzy
“I have no idea where he’s taking me, but-ow!” I hiss and shake the fingertips I’d just gotten a little too close to the flat-iron I’m running through my hair.
“I keep telling you, you should get one of the brush ones,” River tells me, referring to her new go-to hair gadget for the millionth time, “It’s faster, it’s easier, and you won’t burn yourself as often.”
Her voice is tinny and metallic through the speakerphone, but I’ve been on the phone with her telling her about my date with Trent, catching up with her while I get myself ready. I’d caved and gone digging for my makeup, and fortunately it had been in one of the top boxes, so it hadn’t taken much work to find.
He’d told me the date was casual, which made picking an outfit easier, but I worried that maybe jeans were too casual a choice. Would this blouse look better with a skirt? But then what if I was overdressed? I kept trying to remind myself that this was Trent, who knew me and wasn’t going to be surprised by anything he saw, but that almost made it worse.
It wasn’t like a normal date, where you can kind of clean yourself up and make that dazzling first impression. He’s seen me dressed up before. But unlike a normal first date, he’s also seen me at my low points, too.
“Well, you’ll be back on Saturday, right?” I ask her, “Why don’t you bring it with you when you come over to help me unpack and I can try yours out, finally decide for myself.”
“I can do that,” she says, “But we’re not spending all night unpacking, I’m taking you out on the town.”
“Your first night back?”
“No time like the present,” River replies, “You’ve got forever to unpack boxes, but there are only so many Saturday nights while you’re young and hot.”
I laugh. “We’ll see,” I tell her, “Either way, I can’t wait to see you. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I miss you, too, Lizzy,” she says, the teasing tone ebbing out of her voice, “I’m so happy you decided to come back home. And you and I both know that Danny was never good enough for you.”
I smile. “Oh, yeah? And what about Trent? You think he might be?”
She pauses, mulling over the question. “Potentially. We’ll see how he does.”
River likes Mason and Trent well enough, although she’s never been close with them like I am. But she’d known about my torrid crushes on both of them all through college. I imagine she’s relieved she won’t have to hear me start up with the pining again.
Although the thought makes me wonder again if Mason knows about Trent and I going on a date. I imagine he probably does, but I don’t know that for sure.
“Well, I’d better let you go, you said he was picking you up at six, right?” River asks.
I glance at the time on the screen and see that it’s twenty minutes to six. “Yeah, he’ll be here in twenty. Is it stupid that I’m nervous? I mean, I know Trent, like, as well as I know you, there’s no reason I should be worried about this.”
“It’s not stupid, it makes sense,” River says, “There’s more on the line than your standard first date because if it’s a flop, that doesn’t just affect the romantic relationship, it impacts the friendship. And because you guys already know each other, it’s not like a standard first date because you’re not trying to learn every little thing about each other.”
I gnaw my lower lip. “You don’t think this is going to be a flop, do you?” I ask her nervously.
“No, if I thought this was going to be a flop, I’d be trying to talk you out of it,” River reminds me patiently and reassuringly.
“Ok,” I let out the breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding, “Thanks.”
“Anytime. You know I’ve always got your back. But I think you’re gonna have a great time tonight, and you just need to relax. He’s known you as long as I have, Liz, he’s seen the ups and downs, and he still wants to go out with you. Remember that.”
“True, but five years is a long time to forget someone’s annoying habits,” I counter, “Maybe he’s forgotten that there’s a reason I was in the friend zone or something.”
“Oh, shut up,” I can practically hear her rolling her eyes, “Stop thinking worst-case scenario, and assume the best.”
I laugh. “Ok, ok, sorry, you’re right.”
“Damn right, I’m right,” she says firmly, “Now go finish getting ready.”
“You got it, boss,” I bid her goodbye and hung up the phone.
I carefully ran a brush through my hair, checking for spots I might have missed with the flat-iron. But it looks good, and my makeup is still intact. I straighten my blouse and smooth a wrinkle from the thigh of my jeans.
Overall, not too bad. I’d kept a light hand with the makeup knowing that the light I was using in the hotel bathroom might not be the best for the task, but that was probably for the better anyway. If I’d gone too crazy with it, it would have felt like I was trying too hard.
I shut the light off and then retrieve my shoes from the side of the bed. I wonder if I should go wait outside so Trent doesn’t have to wander the hotel looking for my room. I don’t even remember if I gave him my room number when I told him where I was staying.
I glance down at my phone, but he hasn’t texted me. I sigh, pacing back and forth a little to try and relieve some of the nervous energy. In spite of River’s vote of confidence, I’m still not quite convinced that I’m making the right decision, going on this date.
I came back here to Lacqua Bend because it feels like home, but I have to wonder if another messy breakup would impact that. I’ve already signed a 6-month lease on my apartment, so no matter what happens, I’m here for a little while, at least.
And that’s not even factoring in the possibility of this affecting our friendship with Mason. I haven’t forgotten about what he’d confessed back in junior year, about his feelings for Trent. But that was six years ago, right? The two of them have been living together since, surely that would be excruciating if he still had those unrequited feelings. And we’re all adults now, not horny college kids still coming out of the confusion and hormone surges of puberty.
And if Mason was really bothered by it, I feel like Trent wouldn’t actually go through with it. They fight sometimes, like any other normal guys would, but they don’t go out of their ways to do shit to hurt each other.
If you were really that worried about him, you would have given him some thought before you said yes to this, something in the back of my brain tells me nastily.
I feel a stab of guilt, but I remind myself again that we’re all adults, and it’s too late to turn back now. Especially when I hear someone rapping on my hotel door.
I snatch my purse off the table and head to the door, swinging it open hurriedly, realizing too late how crazy I probably look. “Hey.”
Trent stands in the hallway before me, looking devastatingly handsome in a royal blue button-down and a pair of black jeans. His dark hair looks like he’s gotten it cut since I last saw him, and his beard’s been closely and carefully trimmed. He looks me up and down, taking in the full sight of me, and grins. “Hey.”
That grin is enough to make my heart do cartwheels in my chest. “So, where to?” I ask, trying to sound casual and unaffected.
“My car,” he replies matter-of-factly as I step out of the hotel room and close the door behind me.
“No shit, Sherlock,” I laugh and roll my eyes, and the two of us start walking down the hall, “And then where is the car going?”
“That part’s a surprise,” he replies.
I look at him, and while he’s maintaining a straight face, I can tell it’s a struggle. I poke him in the side and he yelps in surprise, but it’s enough to break him, and he laughs.
“You’re really not gonna tell me?” I ask, widening my eyes into a puppy-dog stare and fluttering my eyelashes at him, “Pretty please?”
“Not a chance, no matter how lovely the please is,” he replies with a smirk.
My cheeks flame. “That was smooth,” I laugh.
“Did you expect any less?”
“I mean, kind of, I’ve seen you walk into a sliding glass door.”
He grimaces. “Ok, point taken.”
We make it outside and he leads me to his car, opening the passenger door for me. I find myself kind of wishing I’d gone with a skirt or something to make the moment a little more special.
But I slide in, jeans and all, and he closes the door carefully behind me before moving around to his side of the car and getting into his own seat. I can’t resist the urge to look around a little, wondering if I might be able to pick up any hints and figure out where he’s taking me, but there’s nothing.
I do see a cooler in the backseat. Could he be taking me on some kind of picnic or something? Or maybe he just keeps it in the car for transporting frozen groceries and I’m jumping to conclusions.
“You ready?” he asks me.
I glance at him and see a knowing smirk plastered on his face. He’s enjoying my confusion. I pull the seat belt over my chest and fasten it. “Am now,” I reply, shooting him a playful glare.
He snaps his own seat belt into place and hands me his phone, open to Spotify. “Here, you’re in charge of music on the way there.”
He takes off driving while I scroll through his playlists and favorite artists. Many of them are ones I recognize, as one of the things he and I have always shared is a pretty similar taste in music.
So it’s not hard to pick something we’ll both enjoy, and when he recognizes the track I’ve chosen, a smile spreads over his face. “What, did you expect my tastes to have changed or something?” I ask him.
“Hey, who knows? Maybe five years of being a Montana cowgirl got you all into country music or something.”
I shudder at the thought. Country music has always been one of my least favorite genres. “I don’t think it’s possible to change that much,” I tell him, shaking my head, “And I was never a ‘cowgirl’ anywhere.”
“Anything’s possible,” he shrugs, “I mean, you said yes to this.”
My face flames and I glance at him. “What, you thought that was impossible?”
“Kind of,” he admits.
I wonder what he means by that, so I ask him to elaborate.
“I don’t know, it always just seemed like a bad idea, like I’d screw up my friendship with you,” he says.
He glances out the window as he speaks, and while I don’t think he’s lying, I can tell there’s other reasons he’s not sharing with me.
So I decide to go ahead and drop it for now. Instead, I glance around, trying to see if I recognize the area. It’s a little strange, the juxtaposition of everything familiar interspersed with random new buildings I don’t remember from when I lived here.
I do know where we are, and we’re in an area where not much is changed. There’s a new chain coffee shop here, a new pharmacy there, but it’s otherwise the same as before. But it doesn’t give me any hints as to where Trent might be taking me.
His surprise is successful all the way up until the moment when we’re turning into the parking lot. “A drive-in?”
He nods. “Just opened up last year. They play all kinds of stuff, classics, Disney movies…”
“And which are we here for?”
“I think you’ll consider it a classic,” he says with a chuckle.
He pulls up to the ticket seller and requests a ticket to one of my all-time favorite movies: The Princess Bride.
And he’s absolutely right, I don’t care what anyone says, this movie is definitely a classic.
“I’ve always wanted to go to one of these,” I admit, looking around, “So we just tune the radio to the right station to get the sound?”
He nods. “Yep, there’s instructions on the ticket,” he remarks as he pulls into our designated spot.
The view is perfect, with the screen close enough to fill most of the windshield, and even though I’ve seen this movie a million times, my heart races with excitement.
He changes the stereo over from the Bluetooth on his phone to the radio, then adjusts the station until it’s right. There’s just some music playing, maybe a step above what you’d call “elevator music.”
Trent turns in his seat and lifts the lid off of the cooler. He reaches in and turns back with a bottle of strawberry soda in one hand and a root beer in the other. “Thirsty?”
I grin and take it from him. “I see you came prepared.”
“Can’t have a movie without snacks,” he says solemnly, “Do you want any popcorn? That’s the one thing you can’t really pack yourself, it’s not the same unless you’ve got the fresh stuff.”
I shake my head. “You don’t need to get anything else on my account,” I assure him, “Whatever you brought is perfect.”
He unhooks a bottle opener from his keychain and opens both my bottle and his own. “Well, then,” he remarks, holding out his root beer, “Cheers.”
I clink my soda against his. “Cheers,” I answer, then take a swig.
He takes a drink of his own, then flashes me an apologetic look. “I would have brought some wine or something, but they don’t allow alcohol, and I figured getting kicked out of the drive-in would be a pretty lousy date.”
“Yeah, it would,” I laugh, “Soda is fine, promise.”
But it makes me realize: he’s trying to impress me. And I can’t help it, I burst into laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Trent asks me incredulously as I crack up.
I shake my head, struggling to catch my breath. “Nothing, nothing, just something silly,” I tell him.
There’s something comforting in knowing that he’s nervous, too, and from that moment on, I feel some of the tension between us ebb away. The movie starts, and we settle in to watch, sprinkling in our own commentary.
By the first kiss scene between Buttercup and Westley, Trent’s hand is in mine.
And by the final one, we’re not watching the movie anymore, we’ve been making out for the last five minutes.
I’ve never had a first kiss like this, lighting me up from the inside out. I’d expected awkwardness, but there isn’t a moment of it, just pure heat.
We finally pull apart when the credits start rolling and the sound is replaced by the waiting music once more. Both of us are out of breath and Trent’s eyes are gleaming. A quick peek south reveals that I’m not the only one feeling a little worked up, either.
But before I can get carried away, he lets out a slow breath and turns the car on. “We should get out of here, or they’re going to kick us out after all.”
I let out a slightly shaky laugh. “Yeah.”
He pulls out of the parking lot, his expression still a little bit dazed. We’re both silent as he starts heading back in the direction of my hotel, and for the first time all night, I actually do feel a tiny moment of awkwardness, not sure what I should say.
What comes out of my mouth isn’t what either one of us expects. “What do you think? Was that a date worth waiting for?”
He glances at me, and that slow grin spreads across his face, melting through me like warm honey. “Absolutely. Worth every minute.”