Chapter 5: A First Date and a Post-Date Examination

Climbing into the car after finally escaping the crazy scene where my girls confronted Kitty in my living room, I realized I'd hardly said a dozen words the entire time. It had just been a dizzying rush, but I figured it wasn't much of a date if we never even got a chance to talk.

"In case I forgot to mention it in that little menagerie, you're absolutely beautiful tonight," I whispered as I turned to glance at her. And she was, too. She was wearing a dark blue silk dress, which somehow matched the corsage I'd given her. I guess they'd compared notes beforehand. The material of her dress made her smaller breasts stand out so they looked larger than I'd seen at school. She had a combination of blue/green eye shadow to match her green eyes and her blue ensemble, and her makeup simply made her even more adorable. Her lips were a deep red that made me want to kiss her then and there. Instead, I simply squeezed her hand and then fastened my seat belt.

"We'd better go, our reservation awaits."

"So, Alex," she inquired as we got under way, quickly digging into the heart of the matter before we'd even gotten past the traditional idle chit-chat, "what did you do that everyone is so thankful to you for? Shani said you changed their lives, that you ensured that everything in their lives is different and they see their lives completely differently. It doesn't sound like the kind of thing a kid does during spring break. I'd have expected you to maybe sneak a couple of beers and possibly peek at a bared breast in New Orleans; not change people's lives so much they quit their jobs and leave their families."

"Uh," I mumbled, trying to stall for time. "I just gave them a fresh perspective. A simplified view from a teenager's point of view that allowed them to see their worlds differently than they'd seen it previously," I ad-libbed like mad.

"Yeah, that's your story?" she asked, clearly not believing what I'd just told her. "And they are crazy about you as well. It sounds like those three on the phone are all older. Didn't you meet anyone your own age?"

"Uh, not really, I just reacted to whoever approached me," I said.

"They approached you?" she asked, blinking in surprise. "What, they took one look at you and figured you had the potential to change their lives?"

I knew I had to watch how I answered. There were just too many potential landmines here. "No, we ran across a lot of different people and conversations just developed. It didn't take long before they'd say something that I'd respond to, and as you undoubtedly already know, I tend to approach life a little differently than your typical teenager."

"You've got that right," she snickered. "So is that all of your women, or do you have any others I haven't met yet?"

"Uh... ," I hesitated. "Actually there are a few more, but I never did anything with them. There were a few that are like Natalie and Rebecca in that I didn't change their lives or anything. However, both Natalie and Rebecca were so thankful to be included in the group they acted like the rest."

"So you've got six women who feel they owe you their lives, you've got two who will do anything for you just for including them, plus an untold number who'd love to join the group, but you haven't allowed them to yet? Do I have that about right?" she asked with a smile.

"Well, I like to think it's a bit more nuanced than that," I tried to argue. "Besides, the other group also includes a couple of men."

"Uh huh, and did any of the men offer to do anything for you?"

I wasn't expecting that question and it put me in an even worse position than I was already in. I could feel my face heating up as a blush enveloped it.

"Uh, yeah, but I told him I wasn't into guy-guy stuff. Luckily neither was he."

"Wait a minute, a guy who you met from out of the blue, who felt no obligations to you beforehand, offered to sleep with you, even though he's not gay?"

I rolled my eyes, knowing there was no way I was getting out of this easily. We'd reached the restaurant and I parked the car, but I simply turned off the engine so we could talk this out.

"Look, it's not as odd as it sounds," I briefly tried to convince her.

"Considering all the other strange things you've done this last week, somehow I don't believe that," she replied, still smiling as she said it. She leaned over and gave me a brief kiss. "Don't worry, though, I'm glad you didn't take him up on it. Now at least I know I only have half the population to worry about."

I smiled at her reply and, as we started to get out of the car I quietly responded to myself, "Not quite 50%, more like five percent, tops." Apparently she heard me because she turned to consider me.

"Are you serious?" she asked, facing me down with her hands on her hips. "I can expect five percent of the population to react this way whenever you meet them? That's ... what? Hundreds of millions of people?"

"I don't think it's even that high. There are certainly more than 100 kids in school, and there's only one who—"

"You've already got another one at school?" she asked, clearly shocked.

"No, no," I hurriedly tried to correct her. "I'm not involved with her or anything. I was just saying that, out of the entire school, there's only one girl who's like Natalie."

"Like Natalie?" she said, considering it briefly. "You said that Natalie was simply thankful to be included. Have you included her in any fun?"

"No, absolutely not!" I insisted. "She's like the others in New Orleans. They're fascinated by me but I haven't done anything besides talk to them. Her name is Betty Taylor, if that helps. I had lunch with her on Tuesday and Wednesday."

"Oh, that girl," she answered, letting her breath out. "I was wondering who you were talking to, especially since you looked so upset after sitting at the intellectuals' table." It was clear that Kitty had been watching me before I'd ever approached her, but then Darrell had said as much.

"Yeah, again, I was telling her some things about herself that she hadn't really noticed before. She was appreciative, but not like Shani and the rest."

"You know, you sound more like everyone's father than their boyfriend," she commented, watching my reaction.

"Well, I wouldn't really call any of us boyfriend/girlfriend. It's a bit more complicated than that, but I haven't been able to think of a more descriptive title yet."

"Yes, I'd say it's more complicated," she said, snuggling up against me to shield herself from the chilly wind. "I still can't figure out how all these grown women with jobs and responsibilities get so carried away over a teenage boy that they'd do such wild things?"

"It's a good question, one I've asked myself a number of times," I replied honestly. "My dad seems to think it's my responsibility, but I kind of think it was just unusual circumstances and everyone didn't know how to handle the situation."

"Yeah, it sounds like you believe your father, you keep talking about your 'responsibilities' to them. Normally it's the adults who are responsible, not the teenager. And what exactly made it an 'unusual circumstance'; the fact that adult women were fooling around with a kid?"

"Well, it's a bit involved to get into just yet, but let's just say that everyone wasn't thinking clearly at the time."

"That's just it, you're a real enigma," she sighed, making me wonder just how many of my fellow students would just drop a word like enigma into a sentence. It especially made me wonder about Darrell's interest in her, as I couldn't picture him using such a word either. "You talk up someone who threatens you," she continued, "you act like having women follow you across the country is no big thing. You play down everything that happens to you. Your friends and family imply things I can't figure out. Just what am I supposed to do with you?"

"Well, you could just give me a chance, just like I asked you to do with Darrell. A chance to get to know me regardless of the rumors, the hangers-on, and anything else you don't know about me yet." I looked at her with my most sincere expression while trying to send reassuring emotions at her, hoping what Dad had been saying about me influencing people had some truth to it.

"There's a lot more to you than even the rumors hint at," she told me, hugging my arm. "Sure, I'll give you a chance to start over, but I'm kind of fascinated with the enigma I have right here." With that she leaned over and gave me another quick kiss on the cheek. That had to be a good sign, I told myself. Someone who's about to dump you doesn't keep kissing you, do they?

We proceeded to our destination; a little French restaurant my parents said was a nice quiet romantic getaway they'd visit occasionally when they wanted to escape from obnoxious kids, such as yours truly. Kitty seemed to finally recognize the small subtle sign over the door, despite our having been standing in front of it for some time.

"Oooh, 'l'Oignon Pleurer, ' I've always wanted to eat here! I've heard good things about it, mostly from my parents' friends. The kids at school never go here."

"You know, if you're going to give me a fresh start, you'll have to get back into the car. That other guy wasn't much of a gentleman," I suggested. She smiled and climbed back in, watching me as I formally opened her door for her, bowing slightly as I did so.

"You know, that might work better if you didn't have such a crappy car," she laughed. I hooked her arm with mine and escorted her across the parking lot to the restaurant.

"Hey, it's the best my parents and I could scrape together with two older sisters in college, and two more kids preparing to follow," I protested. "Besides, it got us here and that's what counts."

"Says the man with a jacket and tie who pinned me with a corsage for just a 'normal' date."

"Hey, it's a big occasion for me. I don't get out on many dates."

"Yeah, you don't need to," she replied, smiling at me again. "You get all the action you need just from the girls you casually pick up while on vacation."

I stopped dead before the door, taking her hands in mine and looking her in her eyes. "If a little action was all I was interested in, I wouldn't have asked you to accompany me tonight," I stated, kissing her on the cheek before I opened another door for her. As we approached the maitre d', she suddenly reached up and rubbed her thumb along my cheek.

"Lipstick," she mouthed to me.

"Party of two?" he asked.

"We have reservations," I explained, "The Jennings party."

"Ah, yes, if you'll please follow me." Kitty hugged my arm tightly as we walked down a dim, candlelit aisle to a quiet little table near the back.

"Mademoiselle?" he asked, holding her chair for her. She glanced at me and giggled slightly—as if she expected me to be the one holding the chair—then sat, smiling the whole time.

"Gosh, this is nice," she gushed once we were established and we'd ordered a simple iced tea for each of us. I felt it was a sin to be ordering tea in a nice French restaurant on a romantic date; especially since the girls and my parents had been letting me drink a bit of wine with dinner recently, to 'let me get used to drinking, so you don't get into trouble when you do it in public'.

"I'm glad you like it," I enthused, touching her hand, "I aim to please."

"Well, you're doing a very good job," she told me, her eyes dancing with mirth. She seemed pleased with the date so far, despite the odd circumstances and the awkward discussion in the car.

"So, Mr. Sophisticate, do you have any recommendations tonight?" she asked, playfully fluttering her eyelashes in a playful fashion as we both looked at our menus. "After all, you can't expect to take a naïve girl to a fancy French restaurant unless you can translate the menu for her."

I smiled. Luckily Dad had prepared me for this, letting me know which dishes were good, so I had a few.

"The French are known for their sauces, they were initially developed to help cover sometimes questionable meats. I like to think my extravagant manners will do that for me, helping cover the obvious gaffes of inexperience and just plain ineptitude." She just beamed at me.

"Your girlfriends didn't warn me what a little charmer you were."

"Let's not go on about others, not here. I'd rather focus my attention on you alone."

"Getting tired of inventing excuses, eh?" she giggled.

"Yeah," I groaned in mock despair.

"So, what's this?" she asked, pointing out a particular entrée. I grinned at her. I didn't know what she took in school, but I suddenly had a strong feeling she studied French and was merely testing me. I may not eat French food often—other than when I was in Orleans—but I had someone who not only knew French, but was a decent cook herself.

"That's Coq au vin with haricot verts and leeks," I said, sounding like I actually knew what I was talking about. "It's rooster cooked in a red wine sauce served with a green bean native to France and, well, leeks," I explained, barely able to contain my laughter.

"Very good. You are a worldly sophisticate. Maybe I'll stick around until the end of the meal," she said, posing coquettishly sticking her finger in the dimple created by her smile. She looked adorable, and she knew it!

The dinner was very nice. We both enjoyed ourselves. The waitress was very friendly, and despite her presenting her ample bosom on frequent occasions. I managed not to stare, at least not too overtly.

We talked of several things, thankfully keeping away from all the obvious ones like girlfriends, innuendo, or other followers, and talked mainly of school and various aspirations, family and friends.

"As you may have noticed from my haircut," she said, indicating her extra short hair, "I've never been one to follow what everyone else does. I learned some time ago that I don't fit in with what most people expect, and I decided to embrace being my own person, actually going out of my way to be different at times. You'll notice that I tend to fashion my own look by picking up interesting items in thrift shops. It's not that I can't buy what everyone else has, but I think it's more fun shopping for my own statement. And if combing through other people's lives gives me a leg up on being my own person, then I certainly can't object that it's cheaper that way," she replied with a smile.

"So the fact that you're ... unconventional, isn't as much of a shock to me as it might be for a lot of people. I'm used to people talking about me, and looking at me askance because I don't fit, so I won't let the rumors of you affect how I react to you. Though," she warned me, "I'm not saying I won't hold your own words and actions against you if you screw up along the way!"

"Hey, that only makes sense, and that's exactly what I was hoping for," I told her honestly. "If we can deal with each other ... honestly," I said, hesitating as the irony that I was purposely hiding a lot of information from her hit me, "then I think we'll do well."

"I hope so," she replied. "I really hope so," she added, smiling sweetly at me.

On the drive back she turned to me and smiled. "So, should you call ahead?" she asked pointedly, making her intentions clear. It was obvious what she was referring to and my girls would be pleased as punch if I did, but I smiled sweetly at her, feeling glad I had made such an impression on her.

"No, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather you didn't think of me as a purely sexual being, hurrying you off to bed the first opportunity I get. You already have a bad enough image of me because of my current living arrangements. Behaving badly won't help that any."

She laughed, hugging my arm. "That's OK, I won't object. I can respect your wishes ... just as long as you don't hold out too long."

I would have liked to simply kiss her at her door, but I had to take her home to get her car. This, of course, entailed coming inside to say hello. When I opened the door suddenly there were girls and women everywhere. I quickly introduced her to my parents before she could be dragged away by the women. The 'rents asked us politely how our night was, to which Kitty hugged my arm and said "Very nice. He's such a gentleman." Then, before a female confab took place, I managed to steer her away with the explanation that she needed to conspire with Chalise before all my women poisoned her mind.

Having achieved a relatively clean getaway, I escorted her out to her car, where I did manage to get my goodbye kiss. It started simple, I again wanted it short and sweet, but she made it a bit more interesting and I couldn't very well deny her, now could I? But, as always, it ended way too soon and she climbed into her car—a little celery colored Volkswagen bug—and drove away, honking her horn as she left. Its beep sounded just as happy and cheerful as its owner.

Reentering the house, I was swarmed with inquiring female minds, all wanting every intimate detail of the date.

I briefly described the better parts of the date to them, and they all ohhed and ahhed at the appropriate parts.