12: FIRST DATE
"In the car, I just can't wait.
To pick you up on our very first date.
Is it cool if I hold your hand?
Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?
Do you like my stupid hair?
Could you guess that I didn't know what to wear?
I'm just scared of what you think.
You make me nervous so I really can't eat…" the speakers spouted Blink 182's latest single. As Elena was preparing for her first date with Damon, Blink 182's "First Date" was conveniently playing on 99.3 the Fox, her favourite radio station. "Hey Bonnie, did you request this song or something?" she demanded.
Bonnie's head emerged from behind the closet door. "Nope, but I think it's a sign." She reentered Elena's walk-in closet and continued the pursuit for the perfect outfit. "God, this is so not a female rock star's closet," Bonnie pondered to herself. She was surrounded by stylishly sophisticated business suits, organized by designer and colour. An hour ago, she had decided that a power suit would be inappropriate for a romantic rendezvous. Now, she was desperate to dress her friend.
Elena muttered, "It took you an hour to realize that all I have is suits in there? Well, you've already looked at my casual stuff. Why can't I just wear what I'm wearing." She pointed to herself and struck a supermodel pose.
"I mean, you certainly have fashionable clothes on. But the outfit's not revealing enough. I mean, you want him to come back for seconds, right? Then, you gotta give him a reason to come back for seconds," Bonnie purred suggestively.
Elena defended her conservativeness. "You know how I am. If he only likes my wardrobe, then he's a waste of time. I wanna be sure that he's attracted to my mind and personality, not my appearance."
"That's certainly an honourable endeavour, but he's still a guy. But anyways, I don't wanna argue," Bonnie conceded, as she flung her arms up in defeat. Elena had already selected an outfit 45 minutes ago, and was simply waiting for her friend's approval. Elena sketchily checked herself in the mirror and then proceeded towards the front door of her penthouse apartment. Bonnie suddenly seized Elena's arm; Elena had not even bothered with makeup! Elena swatted away the cosmetics that Bonnie was brandishing in front of her face.
As Damon deteriorated into the passenger seat of the Camaro, Sage honked the horn and hollered obscenities at the drivers in front of them. Damon was supposed to meet Elena at the downtown Vancouver Milestones, but he was already 15 minutes behind schedule. Who would have predicted that Vancouver, with one-tenth of urban LA's population, could be a target of LA-like traffic turbulence? At last, they arrived at the entrance of the upscale eatery. As Damon impulsively fretted with his hair, Sage wiped away an imaginary tear; Damon was growing up.
Elena had already been accommodated in a private corner of the restaurant. When Damon noticed her, his heart almost pole-vaulted out of his throat. Unlike all of his previous girlfriends, Elena exuded an entrancing naturalness; her face was not suffocating under layers of makeup, and her body was comfortable in its second skin of clothing. He composed himself and greeted her. As he offered an apology, she offered a sympathetic smile.
After some initial awkwardness, the rest of the evening was satiated with conversation and laughter. They learned about each other's interests, discussed the music business and current events…To Elena's amazement, they were enjoying each other's company. She girlishly giggled to herself: Her plate of spaghetti had her wishing to reenact a very famous scene from "Lady and the Tramp." Damon had ordered spaghetti too. Was he thinking the same thing? He was, but with a very different reaction. Since when did Damon Salvatore start to envy fake cartoon dogs in a Disney movie?
Author's Note: Thank you for reading and the feedback, follows, and favourites. Special thanks to YAZMIN V, Ninaandianforever, and VikasAdiwal.