Five knocks to the rhythm of "Shave and a Haircut" announced Max's arrival.

"Just a second!" I yelled. I was at the mirror, checking over my appearance. I hadn't dressed up. I didn't really have anything dressy, and we were only going to the movies . . . as friends. I had worn mascara though, as well as perfume and strawberry-flavored tinted lip gloss I had bought that day. Oh, Jeez. He would see right through me and notice how much work I had put into getting ready. I tugged at both sides of my hair, wondering what to do with it. Finally I gave up and decided to just wear it down.

Max knocked again. "I'm coming, I'm coming! Don't get your panties in a bunch!" I groaned inwardly. Force of habit, that little saying. It was an inside joke between me and some of my old friends. I opened the door.

"Actually, they're boxers, but - whoa." He caught himself, then grinned. "You look great."

I just knew he would notice the extra effort I had put into my appearance and tease me about it. "Oh, shut up." I said with a scowl, annoyed. Then I realized he actually meant it. Lucky for me, he seemed to think I was flirting. "You look . . . nice." I said, then blushed, not sure if I truly meant it. He was wearing his usual dark clothing, a leather jacket under his arm. He had on more eye makeup than I did, and his hair was spiked straight up rather then all over. All rings and studs were accounted for.

"Thanks. So you wanna head out?"

"Sure." I said. I grabbed my coat and went out into the hall, closing the door behind me. Suddenly I noticed the large bandage on his elbow. I pointed at it. "What happened?" I vaguely wondered if it had something to do with an intravenous drug, then scolded myself for even thinking it.

"Oh, this? I donated blood today. See?" He proudly turned around to show me the "Be nice to me, I gave blood today" sticker stamped on the back pocket of his tight jeans.

"Ouch." I said, again scolding myself, both for thinking something so mean about him when he had in reality performed such a charitable act, and also for checking out his ass. Yet again.

"It really doesn't hurt that much." he said, turning back around. "Have you ever donated before?"

"No, never." I said, shaking my head fearfully. "I hate needles."

"You really should. It's a good thing to do." he paused. "The blood drive's going on until Sunday down at Braddock Hall. Maybe you can go down tomorrow."

"I don't know . . . " It sounded really scary to me.

"C'mon . . . I'll go with you to keep you company. It won't hurt a bit, I promise."

"Well . . ." His grey eyes were as big, round, and sad as a puppy dog's. "I suppose." I relented. He beamed.

"That's great. I'll swing by around twelve. I'm guessing you sleep in as late as I do on the weekends?" he asked as he shrugged on his jacket, which was covered in metal spikes.

I laughed. "Well, not that late." I said, slipping mine on as well.

"C'mon, let's go, don't wanna miss the movie." To my surprise, he took my hand in his.

"Hey, wait a minute. We don't even know what we're seeing. And why are you holding my hand? I thought we were going just as friends?" I said.

"Friends can hold hands. I hold Tora's hand all the time." he said with a surprisingly shy smile.

"Well, all right. Let's go." We headed downstairs hand in hand. When we got outside, Max led me to his car, a beat-up old junkbox the color of rust. "We're going in that?" I asked incredulously.

"Yep. That's my baby. Right up there with Tora and Lucky." he said. He went over to the passenger side.

"What are you doing? You expect me to drive that thing?"

He laughed. "No. I'm getting the door for you."

"Uh, thanks." I said as I got in. He closed the door for me as I adjusted my seat belt. He got in the driver's side and started up the car.

"Off we go." he said. I didn't know what to think. No matter what he said, he obviously thought of this as a date.

I was on a date with Max Berenger.