It was a little awkward walking downstairs in Gigi’s boots. Despite her assurances, I started to suspect the heels might be taller than one inch. It was too te to do anything about that, though. Tony was outside, and I didn’t want to keep him waiting.

  I hugged the strap of my tote bag and tried to stay calm, but my mind was buzzing with worries. Did my makeup look okay? Would Tony like my outfit? Was it a bad sign that I was worrying about my makeup and outfit before a completely ptonic date? I didn’t want Tony to get the wrong idea and think that I was actually into him. Not that I was worried he would make a move, I knew he wasn’t really interested in me either. But god, it would be so embarrassing if he thought I had a crush on him or something.

  Tony was waiting by his car, idly pying with his phone. I swore quietly. He was wearing the exact same clothes he had worn to work. The only thing he had done was switch his uniform shirt for a t-shirt and a light jacket.

  He still looked great, obviously. He always did. While I still felt a little uncomfortable in my borrowed outfit, his clothes fit him perfectly, showing off his tall, powerful figure. His hair, which had been perfectly combed at work, was a little messy, spiking up just enough to make him look rexed and a little cheeky. He scratched his tummy absent-mindedly, and his shirt rose up a little, showing off his taut body underneath.

  God, why did he have to be so hot? Bad enough that the only time I had ever been asked out on a date it was by a man, but did it have to be a man who was so much more attractive than me?

  My boots clicked on the pavement as I approached, and I nervously called out, “Hi.”

  Tony looked up with a smile, and then his face dropped. Fuck! I knew I looked stupid.

  “Holy shit, Emmett,” he said, and slowly that smile came back, “You look great. Wow. “

  “Oh!” I blushed. For some reason that made my stomach feel a little fluttery. I wasn't used to getting compliments on my appearance, except from Gigi, who had to be nice to me because I paid half the rent. “Um. Thank you. You look nice too.”

  “I feel under-dressed,” Tony ughed. He tilted his head, “Are you wearing make-up?”

  “Noooo!” I groaned and covered my face, “She said it wouldn't be noticeable!”

  “Who said what?” said Tony.

  “My stupid roommate,” I whined, “She helped me get ready, and she said you wouldn't be able to tell, it was just supposed to zhuzh me up, and I didn't have any nice clothes and I didn't want to look stupid because I know you usually date way hotter people–”

  “Whoa, whoa,” I felt Tony’s hands grab me gently by the biceps, and I stopped talking and looked up at him meekly. He gave me a gentle squeeze, “Emmett, you never look stupid, okay? I was serious about what I said today. You're a cool guy, and I'm excited to spend time with you outside of work. No matter what you're wearing. Although, I gotta admit, I wouldn't mind if you dressed like this more often.”

  I blushed deep red, and for some stupid reason admitted, “My roommate let me borrow her clothes.”

  Tony raised his eyebrows, but instead of making fun of me, he just said, “She’s got good taste. In clothing and in roommates.”

  Somehow I blushed even more. I tried to say something back, but I just ended up stumbling over my words, until Tony couldn't help but ugh.

  “Emmett, dude, are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked, “I feel like it's stressing you out.”

  “I do!” I insisted, “But I've never been on a date before, I don't know what you expect me to–”

  “Hey,” Tony cut me off, his voice firm but soothing, “Don't you worry about a thing, okay? I'm the one who asked you out, so I’m gonna handle everything. You just sit back, look pretty, and let me take care of you.”

  Okay, now this surely had to be the most it was possible to blush.

  “R-really?” I said.

  “Totally,” Tony smirked, “I’m gonna give you the full date experience. May I?”

  He held out his arm, bent at a strange angle. After a moment I realized what he was suggesting, and timidly reached out and looped my hand over his forearm.

  “Perfect,” he grinned, “This way, gorgeous.”

  He led me around the car and I tried desperately not to trip over my own feet, or throw up, or scream. Gorgeous?!

  “Here we are,” said Tony, when we reached the passenger door. He opened it for me and helped me inside. I felt a strange sense of loss as I let go of his arm. He was so strong… I could feel his muscles even through the jacket, so different to my soft, skinny little arms…

  “One more thing,” Tony said, and then he leaned in towards me. My heart raced. Was he going to kiss me? Surely not! But he got closer and closer, and before I could help myself my lips parted slightly, just to tell him not to…

  “There we go,” said Tony, and I heard a click as he buckled in my seatbelt. Obviously! Obviously that's what he was doing! I knew that!

  Tony smiled at me, his face the tiniest distance from my own. I could smell his cologne covering the familiar musky scent he got after a long day at work, and for some reason it was making me light-headed.

  “Gotta keep my date nice and safe,” he said.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. Tony winked and drew back, closing the door behind him. I took a deep breath. This fucking date was gonna kill me.

  Getting buckled in was kind of nice, though…

  Tony was a good driver, which I should've expected, but he kept gncing over at me as he drove. I wished he would stop. Not because I was worried he would crash, but because the way he was looking at me was making feel all hot and squirmy.

  It was too much! Even though I wasn't attracted to him, I could feel his well-practiced seduction techniques in action, wearing away at my defences. It was like he was always on the attack, every little movement somehow perfectly calcuted to demonstrate maximum handsomeness. Was this how I was supposed to treat women if I ever managed to take one out? It seemed exhausting. And I definitely didn't have eyes as intense and piercing as Tony’s.

  “So what do people talk about on dates?” I blurted, “Should I ask you, like, what you do for work?”

  Tony ughed, “You already know what I do for work, dude. The same thing as you..”

  “Oh,” I blushed, “Right. Sorry.”

  “It's cool,” Tony reached across and patted my thigh reassuringly, which almost gave me a heart attack, “We talk about stuff all the time at work. Maybe we should get deeper.”

  “Like…” I searched my mind for a topic, “Like how did you know you were bi?”

  Tony grinned, “You think you might be curious?”

  “No!” I blushed, “I just…”

  “I’m just kidding,” Tony said, “It's a good question. To be honest, I thought I was gay for a while. I kissed a boy in fourth grade and I really liked it. But then I kissed a girl a few months ter and I liked that just as much.”

  I grimaced. Here I was, having still never kissed a girl at twenty years old, and Tony had already had experience with two genders by age ten.

  “So it's all the same to you?” I asked.

  “Not really,” Tony mused, “I think I like different things. I usually like bigger guys. Guys who work out, the type I can get a beer or watch the game with. And, y'know, do other guy stuff,” he smirked to himself, “And then I usually like girls who are small and su–”

  He stopped dead and blushed. My eyes widened. I had never seen Tony blush before.

  “There are exceptions, obviously,” he said quickly, “I don't have anything against femme guys, and obviously it's super hot when a girl can kick your ass. And I dated this one enby, and they were really cool, and, y'know, I shouldn't be talking about this stuff on a first date, anyway.”

  “Right,” I muttered bitterly.

  Well, that was just great. Tony had a type, and once again, I didn't measure up. Not that it mattered, but it would've been nice to at least pretend this wasn't a pity date. I sighed and looked out the window.

  “So, uh, hey,” Tony said awkwardly, “That was a good question. And we can talk about other deep stuff, like, uh. Um.”

  I didn't offer any help.

  “Okay, here's one,” he said, “You don't speak Spanish?”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “You mentioned it a couple times,” he shrugged, “But Oscar keeps forgetting, right?”

  “Yeah,” I sighed, “Everyone always expects me to speak Spanish.”

  “You do live in El Paso,” Tony pointed out, “Your parents never figured you should know the nguage?”

  “I was raised by my grammy,” I said, “Um, my grandmother I mean. On my mom’s side. She's white, and, um, not really into the whole Mexican thing.”

  “That sucks,” Tony frowned, “Like she didn't want to get to know that side of your family at all?”

  I shook my head, “She says she knows enough. She had kind of a vision for what her family was gonna be like, and then that kinda went out the window…”

  I trailed off. Tony showed his mastery of first date etiquette by not asking me what happened to my mom and dad, and then he pulled the car into a parking lot.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “Your favorite,” he grinned, “Bowling!”

  He looked so proud of himself I almost giggled. Bowling? What in the world made him think I liked bowling? Sure, I was a champion bowler in Wii Sports Resort, but…

  My heart dropped as I remembered my first week at the cafe, when I had heard Tony talking about the rec baseball league he was in, and quickly chimed in by bragging about what a great bowler I was. Of course, I didn't want to seem like a dork by admitting it was in a video game, so I had just lied and cimed it was real.

  That wasn't my fault though! I was a guy! Guys were supposed to brag about sports! And that was like a year ago, how was I supposed to know Tony had remembered it all this time?

  “Oh, yay!” I said weakly, “Bowling!”