The Last Amazons

By Dixxy

Chapter Eight: The First Date, Part Two

(Sage)

While Sam's dressing-up had taken me surprise, it was kind of. . . nice. She ended up being really pretty. Every time I got a surprise like that, I wasn't sure what to say. What it because of some sort of an attraction? No. It was more that I saw so many new sides to her that you don't normally see. Sensitive, timid sides that you don't see but you know have to be there. Sam is usually so. . . tom-boyish, I guess.

We left the apartment building and walked to the ever-so-conveniently close multiplex and bought our tickets. Well, I bought the tickets. Not a dime was going to come out of her purse that night. I was going to make sure of that. I wanted that night to be perfect for her- it was her first date and one of her first experiences at being alone with a boy on somewhat romantic terms. I didn't want to screw that up.

The next step was refreshments. The lobby was pretty deserted for a Friday night, so it wasn't too long before we had our large tubs of popcorn, soda, and candy bar a piece. Then, hand in hand, we skipped- I kid you not, we SKIPPED- down to the theatre and chose a good set of seats in the middle. The back was typically reserved for people making out, and while Keisha and Kento might've been at that point in their relationship, we certainly weren't.

For the next two hours or so, we sat through the previews, movie, and advertisements. We laughed, we cried, we screamed in terror, and that was just the trailers. The movie it self was good. We enjoyed it. It was fun.

After the movie, we went to dinner at- of course- an Italian restaurant. No matter what, Italian restaurants are always one of the most romantic places to go on a date. Unless it's a pizza place with lots of screaming little kids. I'm referring to places like the one that Lady and the Tramp went to in the movie of the same name (I love Disney movies- I've seen just about every Disney movie made).

The restaurant we went to was somewhere in the happy middle. It wasn't big and fancy, but it was smoking free (a plus) and was just a nice casual environment. The walls were painted with murals that depicted scenes from all over Italy in several different time periods. We were seated by a lovely picture of a couple in a gondola in Venice.

"This is really nice," said Sam, looking around. Golden blonde hair glimmered in the dim lit restaurant, giving her a very pretty air about her. "I just want to thank you for everything tonight."

"Not a problem," I said, picking up the menu. "Do you want an appetizer or a salad or something?"

"Sure," said Sam. "Um, which one?"

"The Caesar looks good," I said. "I'll get that."

"I think I'll just do a house," said Sam. "Drinks?"

"Let's be evil and look at the smoothies," I said. "Milkshakes, malts, frappes. . . yes, junk food heaven!"

Sam laughed. "Strawberry milkshake. . . chocolate malt. . . root beer float. . . oh, I want everything!"

"Then go ahead and try a little of each," I said. "I can afford it."

"Are you sure?" said Sam, looking a little. . . I dunno, nervous, I guess. "Wouldn't that be a LOT of money? You bought for the movie and the food there, too."

I shrugged. "I got it. Kento and I re-painted Mike's shed and his fence- we got paid good money for that," I said. "Kento let me keep all the money- I just have to do all of his chores for the next week. He said I'd need the extra money if I was doing dinner AND a movie. Either way, I got twice as much money as I was supposed to get."

"Small price to pay for that much money," said Sam. "I think I'll go for the chocolate shake first."

"I want a raspberry smoothie," I said. It was about that time that our waiter- a kind of pudgy Italian guy- took our orders for the drinks and salad. That left us some time to figure out what we wanted for our main meal.

Ultimately, we both ordered spaghetti and meatballs. So while we worked on our salads, we started to make some small talk. That felt odd, considering we'd known each other for a while at that point. I mean, c'mon, we'd been through a lot (well, sort of) together. Trulpa going after the Jewel of Death, helping me heal Cara, and that one kiss at the pier. . . man, we were closer than I thought.

"How's football practice going?" asked Sam.

I grinned. "It's going good. Kento's got a pretty good idea on how to play the game now, and the team's looking pretty good." I picked up a crouton and popped it in my mouth. "I'm looking forward to playing. The pads are kind of cool, but the name is just. . ."

"Yeah, the Badgers isn't even a regional name," said Sam. "The 'Boston High Badgers' does sound stupid, but hey, I didn't name the team."

I snorted. "Yes, we can 'badger' the opponent!" I said.

"That joke is WAAAAYYYYY over-used," said Sam. A couple a few tables down from us agreed with Sam. Must've been teachers or alumni.

Speaking of Boston High staff, I noticed Mr. Wimbly and this really big woman walk into the restaurant. I snickered, instantly thinking of the "hen picking wife" gag used in many cartoons. Sam gave me a strange look in response. "Guess who just got here?" I said.

Sam turned around, spotted our principal, and turned back to me. "This could be interesting. Observing a high school principal when he's off duty," she said. We watched carefully as they were seated at one corner of the restaurant just barely in our view. Well, Sam had a better view than I did from her seat, so I had to use the metal of the napkin dispenser to get a view.

"And our second form of evening entertainment arrives," I said. "Let's watch."

While we really couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, the woman (presumably Mrs. Wimbly) giggled often and made gestures with her napkin indicating that they were flirting.

"Ew, school official foreplay," said Sam. I had to bury my head in my arms to keep from laughing out loud. Yes, it was a very DISTURBING thought, but it was funny, none the less.

Our meals came around that instant and our waiter shower immediate interest. "Are you all right, young man?" he said.

I took in a deep breath. "I'll be fine," I said. "She just said something really funny and I couldn't control myself too well."

"Well, keep it down," he said. "Or else the manager will kick you guys out."

"Right, right," said Sam. "Thank you for bringing us our meals." The waiter nodded and walked off to get his next or something along those lines while the two of us forgot about Mr. Wimbly and started to eat.

~

We took our sweet time eating the spaghetti, just talking, laughing, and enjoying ourselves. The food was good and by the time we were done, I was definitely full. Sam probably was, too, but she looked relatively happy.

"I don't think I've eaten this good since my fifteenth birthday," I said, patting my stomach.

"What about your sixteenth birthday?" asked Sam.

I grew quiet. Sixteen hadn't been a good year for me. I'd "celebrated" it with Kento and Cye while Trulpa had us captive in the Dynasty. Kento and Cye had similar celebrations on their respective birthdays, though poor Cye had to deal with the knowledge of his real birth father on his birthday. "My sixteenth birthday was during. . . you know," I said. Sam's eyes widened as she quietly said "oh" and covered her mouth. "It's, it's okay."

"But sixteen is supposed to be so, special."

"I know."

Sam reached over the table and put her hand on my shoulder. I looked up at Sam in surprise. "You lost out on a lot because of her, didn't you?" she said. "She ruined your life. Tried to ruin your life."

"Yeah. I'm never going home again, I'm never going to see my family again. . . it's so hard to think about," I said. I sighed heavily. "You don't know what it's like to know you can't see your parents again because you're supposed to be dead. They both love me. Loved me, at least. It, it kills me to know they're still alive and I can't see them. They might not be my birth parents, and they might've lied to me, but. . . it was for my own good. I was too young to really comprehend being 'found'."

"You'll get home again eventually," said Sam. I looked up at her, not sure what she was getting at. "It's been over a year since you've seen your home. You don't even have any pictures to help remind you of you friends or your family. You miss them so much, but you're too scared to go back yet. But you'll find the strength to go home some day, or at the very least, write a letter saying 'I'm okay, I'm alive'. You have to do at least that sometime."

"But I can't send something like that totally unmarked. It would have US postage stamps on it, and then I'd get tracked down to the US. If the US government got involved, then we'd all have to move to Mexico or Canada or something," I said.

Sam grinned. "Then go to some exotic country and get that country's postage and send it to your friends and family from there," she said. "It'll be an excuse to go to some place cool like Bermuda or Jamaica."

"Ha, ha, very funny, wouldn't work," I said. "There is no way Mike would just let me go fly off to some other country- by my own ways OR by airplane- just to send a letter."

"Then just give it time and get yourself home whenever that time comes," she said. The waiter came back at that time, left us the check, and I paid, up tip and all. "So, where to next?"

"I don't know, when does your aunt want you home?" I asked as we got up and got ready to leave.

"Didn't say. Ten or eleven, probably, and it's not even eight thirty yet," she said. "But what can we do for the next hour and a half or so?"

I shrugged. "You tell me. You've spent more time living in Boston than I have," I said.

Sam bit her lip as we walked out of the restaurant. Then, her eyes lit up. "The Pru!"

"What about it?" I asked.

"Maybe we can go to the top of the Pru and look out at the city! It's got to be GORGEOUS when the lights go on!" said Sam, clasping her hands excitedly.

"Sounds like a plan to me," I said. Sam smiled as we started to walk to the Prudential Building.

~

Considering the Prudential Building had closed for the night, I ended up summoning my wings and flying us straight to the roof. For the next several minutes, we just stared out at the Boston skyline, enjoying the lights and the scenery.

"This is so pretty," said Sam. She turned to me and smiled. "Thanks. I enjoyed myself tonight."

I grinned back at her. "I did, too." I sighed heavily. I looked down at the pavement. "So. . . what are your thoughts on all this?"

"I don't know," said Sam. She sighed heavily. "I have to thank you, Sage. You've really made me see that guys are all right. And I appreciate that. But. . ."

"You don't think I'm boyfriend material," I said.

Sam shook her head. "I don't mean to insult you or anything but-"

"Nah, I was gonna say the same thing," I said. "I think that with the way our personalities work out we'd make better friends. And we agreed that we could deal with just being friends."

My partner in arms nodded. "I agree. Now we've only got one problem."

"What's that?"
"Their names are Kento Rei Fuang and Keisha Narrlobi," said Sam. "You KNOW that they've been trying to hook me and you and Cye and Sara up. We just need to politely explain to them that we're happy as good friends. I wouldn't mind going out with you at another time and if you ever need a date for a prom or a formal dance I'll go with you in a heart beat, but for right now I think we're better off where we are right now."

"Point taken," I said. "C'mon, let's get you home."

~

After I dropped Sam off, I started to walk home, but before I went even a few steps, I suddenly felt a presence behind me. I stopped short and looked around. This wasn't right. My heart began to race out of fear and panic. Somebody was watching me.

I began to look around wildly, but I saw nothing. I was beginning to get nervous. I started to reach for the pocket containing my armor orbe when someone suddenly lunged out at me. Before I could cry out in surprise, the figure threw a cloth over my face. I struggled to get away from it, but my assailant had an iron grip.

"Hey! Let him go!"

Sam! She was my only hope. I looked over to where she was standing, but saw she was staring at us in awed stupor. Her pause was long enough for my kidnapper to throw down a smoke bomb and drag me away into the night.