It was the first time we had been together outside of the crummy old classroom where he would kick my chair for 45 minutes and then I wouldn't see him for the rest of the day. We had spent long hours talking via the computer, but technology only takes you so far. So I asked him out. Although he has his own excuse for why this happened.
Anyway, I chose Chinese, we dined, and our fortune cookies had one number that matched: 13. I definitely did not know what to make of that. He asked me what I wanted to do next, yet literally the only thing I could think of at that moment was Ikea. Not a park, not dessert, not a movie. He obviously frazzled me a lot because no one in their right mind chooses Ikea.
It was probably the best place I could have picked. We tested out couches, flopped on beds, threw stuffed animals at each other's faces. We left moments before they closed the store, but I would have loved to be locked in there for the night.
I played all my favorite songs for him on my ipod as he drove back to my house. I was hoping that merely listening to them would give him some insight to my thoughts, maybe even make him telepathic somehow. That's too dreamy an idea, I know.
We reached my house and he put the car in park. You always remember the click of the gear shift. It's the signal sound. We chatted for a while, somehow coming upon the topic of zombie movies. He said there was one movie cliche he's always wanted to try. I asked what it was, and he moved a piece of hair from in front of my face behind my ear. To keep me from hiding. But it caught me off-guard, and he read my puzzled look well. "You know, that cliche were the guy puts the girls hair behind her ear and then kisses her? they do it in zombie movies all the time."
I told him we better finish the cliche. And we did.
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