I had finally risen from my sleep at around one in the afternoon, and immediately realized that it was Saturday.

I panicked instantaneously and started fretting over the possibility that Aiden could have called while I was asleep, and he could have taken my unanswering as a message to tell him that I didn't want to speak to him. But when I grabbed my phone to check, thank goodness he didn't.

But I was still worried over one thing; he didn't exactly say what time was our date, and I didn't even know what we were going to do.

I tried to be cool about it and calmly got up from bed and made my way to the bathroom. As I lathered my hair with fruit-scented shampoo, I hummed to myself as a way of calming the jumble of nerves in me.

But the jumble of nerves worked up again when I had finished my shower and dashed to my room. The first thing I did was check my phone.

Still no call from him.

Sighing, I proceeded to dress up in just a T-shirt and denim shorts before I headed downstairs to have breakfast... or lunch… or brunch. But to be safe, I brought my phone with me, keeping it in the pocket of my shorts.

My mother was watching television in the living room and I called out, "Good afternoon, Mom."

"Good afternoon, Spring. Finally you woke up. Aren't you supposed to be going out with a friend today?"

I was already in the kitchen, unwrapping a granola bar when I heard her say that, and it made me think of my phone in my pocket which was being quiet and still, not even once ringing for a call or beeping and vibrating for a text.

I sighed in disappointment and munched on my granola bar all disheartened before I chased it down with some milk. I didn't feel like joining my mother in the living room, so I returned to my room.

I lied down on my bed, reading one of my novels. I flipped to the next page periodically, my eyes scanning over the words. But then, I didn't absorb any of it in, and I had to keep on re-reading back to the last sentence. And while I did so, my eyes couldn't help but give quick glances to my phone, which was lying on my night drawer, still so motionless and silent.

Very soon, seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours.

Still no call. Not even a single text.

I had been lying on my bed the whole time, glancing between the book in my hands, the clock on my wall and the phone on my night drawer. Finally, just fifteen minutes after five, I decided to give up.

Aiden was never going to call.

He probably found something more interesting to do.

Or worse; someone more interesting.

I clench fistfuls of my comforter as I tried to vent out my anger and frustration. How naïve could I get? I can't believe I actually thought he might be interested in me! As if!

But just then, as I was about to shout, I heard a chiming sounding from my phone, indicating a text message.

I ceased my plan to shout and immediately grabbed the phone off the night drawer top. I looked at the screen to see who it was from.

I let out a hushed squeal of joy when I saw it was Aiden.

And then, I halted my excitement. I took in deep breaths and looked at his name on my screen, trying to figure out whether the message would be something good or something bad.

When I felt alright, I nodded to myself and quickly opened the message. I scanned through the words.

Meet me at the flower shop at 7pm sharp. I hope to see you there :)

Once I have finally torn my eyes away from the smiley face, I jumped out of bed and dashed straight towards my wardrobe, my heart beating furiously and my eyes wide with excitement and panic.

What to wear? What to wear? What to wear?

I was desperately rummaging through my wardrobe, searching for the most perfect and suitable outfit for the now-true date. I thumbed through the clothes that were on cloth hangers, eyeing each of them closely. I would keep on taking off an article of clothing from its hanger and place in front of my body to see if it was suitable. Those that I didn't agree on would be tossed onto the bed.

Finally, I pulled out an outfit that seemed perfect. It was a wrap-around dress with sleeves that reached my elbows, a sash to tie at the side of my waist and the hem reached half-way down my knees. It was in the most exquisite shade of teal. I don't remember where I had gotten this dress, but it didn't matter. It was just beautiful and decent; perfect for any date.

I rummaged through my wardrobe again in search of the perfect shoes to go with it. And luckily, I found a pair of white wedges with straps. It has clearly never been used before and I tried it on for the first time, hoping that it would still fit. Thank heavens it did. I felt like Cinderella after having recovered her lost glass slipper, only I had no prince.

Putting aside all the rejected clothes onto the armchair next to my bed, I laid out the dress and placed the shoes at the foot of the bed. Clearly satisfied with my choice, I looked at the clock.

It was fifteen minutes to six.

Panicking once again, I quickly dashed out of my room to the bathroom, going to take a quick shower. I peeled off my clothes and threw them into the laundry basket before I stepped into the shower. The water was scalding hot at first, and I shrieked. But quickly, it cooled down, and I proceeded to wash myself thoroughly but quickly. After some minutes, I finally emerged from the shower, dried myself up immediately before dashing back to my room.

I dried my russet tresses thoroughly before moving on to putting on my dress. As I looked into my full-length mirror, I began to notice how well the dress fitted me, showing my curves. I had to admit, I was good-looking.

I then walked over to my dressing table and sat in front of it. I opened up the rosewood jewellery box that's been a present from my mother and looked through the finery. I wanted something that would make me look 'decent yet suave', not 'obviously trying too hard'.

After looking through I finally decided to just settle on a pair of silver teardrop earrings. I decided for no necklace, and bracelets were a complete kill for my look.

I put the earrings on and then brushed through my brown waves. I watched as my wavy hair bounced back into position after each stroke. I framed it around my face until I was completely satisfied.

Though I felt the need to be really pretty, I didn't wear make-up. It was just out of habit. All I did was powder my face and swab some lip gloss on my lips, and that was it.

I officially looked perfect.

I smiled to my reflection before I went on to stuff my purse and my cell phone – and some emergency lip gloss – into a petite black handbag. I sat on the edge of my bed as I put on my shoes. When the straps were secured, I looked at the clock.

Twenty minutes to seven.

I didn't waste a second longer in my room. I grabbed my handbag and went downstairs, immediately seeing my mother at the dining table eating some mac and cheese.

She looked up and smiled. "Well, you're a pretty little thing, aren't you?" she commented.

I beamed and went to her side to give her a kiss on her cheek. "Bye, Mom. I promise to give you a call when I'm done."

She waved goodbye as I walked out the door, and I made my way to the flower shop while I silently felt relieved that my mother hadn't suspected anything.

With each step I took, my anxiety grew bigger and bigger. I kept on looking at my dress and nervously fluffing my hair. Do I look alright? I do not know.

But my anxiousness kept pushing me to move faster to the flower shop. I was surprised that I was both nervous and excited. Again, a jumble of nerves.

I was too caught up in my own thoughts to realize that I was already approaching the flower shop. And when I did break away from my thoughts, I was looking into his eyes.

He looked, in simpler words, absolutely hot.

He was dressed quite suavely. He donned a black suit jacket, a white button shirt and black denim jeans and black Venetian style shoes. His hair was quite slicked back, and it looked perfect for him as did his usual dishevelled hairstyle.

He looked so regal.

His lips broke into a grin as he watched me approach him, and I felt so shy.

"Hey there. I knew you'd show up," he greeted, taking my hand in his and bringing it to his lips to give it a kiss. I felt my heart race at the feel of his silky lips on my knuckles.

"Hey," I quietly said.

When he finally let go of my hand, he offers me his arm, and I was so surprised by how he was being such a gentleman. Happily, I took it and he led me to our destination.

"Where are we going?"

He smirked. "You're in for a real treat."

I cocked an eyebrow and smiled at the same time. He only chuckled as he continued to lead me to wherever he had in mind.

For some reason, we wound up in centre Main Street. Night was falling upon us and the streetlamps lit the road and the walkways. Lights from shops glowed everywhere and people are looking through their windows.

I looked around my surroundings when Aiden finally said, "We're here."

I turned to see where he was referring to, and my eyes widened.

We were standing in front of the building of the Le Cresta restaurant.

My mouth fell open in pure shock. This was what was going to be my first date? At an exclusive and expensive Italian restaurant?

Pinch me. I must be dreaming.

I looked at Aiden in utter amazement, disbelieving of the fact that he was actually rich enough to afford it. And that made me even more curious about him. Was he rich? Was he famous? Well, he could be if he was able to secure a table at the most high-class restaurant in Heatherton.

He flashed me a grin before he led me up the stairs to the doors. When we walked in, I was suddenly hit in the face with many delicious and mouth-watering aromas of exquisite Italian dishes.

I followed Aiden to a lectern next to the entryway to the actual restaurant. There, a woman who looked to be in her early thirties stood behind it, looking through a big book. She had auburn hair that was pulled up into a neat bun at the back of her head, and her dark brown eyes scanned through the book quickly.

She then noticed the both of us and looked up. When she saw Aiden, she smiled. But she did not acknowledge me.

"Good evening. And how may I help you today?" she cooed in a tone that was too polite. I noticed the way her brown eyes eyed Aiden with keen interest. Feeling a pang of jealously, my hand on Aiden's arm gripped him tighter.

He did not seem to notice it and instead politely said, "I have a reservation for a table for two. Under the name Aiden Cole."

The hostess nodded her head and flipped through the pages in her big book. Her eyes scanned over the words, her index finger following.

"Ah, here it is," she exclaimed. Then, taking two velvet menus from beneath the lectern table top, she gestured for us to follow her. "We have reserved you the best seat, Mr Cole."

He smiled, saying, "Excellent." The hostess flashed him another smile, once again being completely clueless, or ignorant, of the fact that I was there.

We followed the hostess to a table that was right next to a beautiful window, allowing us a view of the big Town Hall. The only decoration on the table was a clear vase holding a red rose.

The hostess gestured for him to take a seat. But instead, he went to pull out a chair and gestured politely for me to sit. "Thank you," I murmured shyly, earning me another of his smiles. I could catch a hint of a sight of the hostess' pursed lips, but I didn't give a heck care.

When he took his seat across me, the hostess handed him his menu with a big smile, but she did not even look at me as she gave me mine. I rolled my eyes in annoyance and simply took it from her.

"Just call me when you need anything, alright?" she said in a sickly sweet tone before, finally, she left us alone.

All alone.