We both knew something was up. After getting him his order, he agreed he'd stay until I went on break so we could figure out what had happened. Time seemed to pass slowly as I took orders and listen to people talk about their lives. I only did these things half heartedly. I was trying to sort out what I saw. It wouldn't have been so bad if Dave hadn't seen the same thing. Two o'clock just couldn't come fast enough, but when it did, I quickly clocked out for my lunch break, and found Dave sitting at the same table he was earlier.
I slid into the booth facing him and put my elbows on the table. I rested my chin in my neatly folded hands before I spoke to him. "So, Mr. Strider, did you come up with any sort of answer about that weird flashback?"
Dave looked up in that same, casual way he had earlier, but only this time, he wasn't smirking. His face betrayed no hint of emotion as I felt our eyes meet through his glasses. I could only wish to be as cool, calm, and collected as he was one day. "No. Nothing is adding up. It's like nothing tried to multiply itself by zero and then this situation was born. By the way, stop calling me Mr. Strider. Call me Dave. You calling me Mr. Strider makes me feel really fucking weird."
With a sigh, I leaned back in the booth, tangling my fingers into my now free hair. "So, Dave, are we just going to pretend none of that ever happened then and go our separate ways?"
"You're only half right." he corrected me. "I would like to pretend nothing like that happened, unless it happens again. But I don't want to leave you. Bro would kick my ass if he found out that I let someone like you go."
I felt myself flush again. "Look, I don't know who bro is, but if you're trying to get me to go on a date or something, a more direct approach would work."
"Fine. I'll pick you up at 8." he said grinning from behind his mysterious black sunglasses.
"But my shift ends at 9! And who said I was going to accept?" I protested, trying to cover up the fact that I was blushing.
"I'll be here at 8. Tell your "boss" that you have to leave early. Make something up and then go home to change. You can't be seen in public in that get up." Dave replied as he stood up slowly. "Don't keep me waiting." he winked and then he left.
It wasn't hard to convince my boss to let me off early. I had worked overtime a few weeks ago during the lunch rush, and he was happy to comply to let me off early. As I clocked out, I took note that I had an hour and a half to run home, shower, change, and get back. Luckily I wasn't one to waste time. It only took ten minutes to get to my small, run down, studio apartment. I quickly ran up the stairs and unlocked the door.
After a quick, warm shower, I realized my lack of date night clothes in my closet. The closest thing I owned was the outfit I wore to my interview three years ago. While my waist hadn't changed, my height surely had. The tight, black skirt used to reach past my knees, leaving some to the imagination. After growing a bit more and a few washes, the skirt was still just as tight, but about half as long. It would have to suffice.
I didn't have many nice shirts to pick from that weren't work shirts and Dave made it clear not to wear anything from work. So after a couple seconds of searching, I found and old shirt that I had bought a while ago, a few sizes too big. Now the shirt fit well, maybe even a bit too well since it cradled and pushed up my chest. The shirt was a pinkish red with white polka dots. It was sort of low cut, and it had two buttons to draw attention to my boobs. It accented my tiny waist and worked well with the skirt.
Accessories weren't hard to decide on, either. I ended up with some old black heels and some old jewelry. The worst part about this make shift date outfit was the purse. I only had one, since I usually just carried around a green backpack. It was a small clutch in the shape of a watermelon slice. It was embarrassing, but I didn't have any choice.
Most girls in Texas would spend a lot of time on their hair, trying to get it to be as big as possible, but big hair wasn't my style. I simply put it in a side ponytail with a black butterfly clip with green jewels and I curled my hair slightly. As I put on a few touches of makeup, I glanced at the clock. It was 7:50. If I didn't hurry, I was going to be late!
I grabbed my shoes, shoved on my glasses, and I ran down the two flights of stairs barefoot. Traffic was light, and I was only a couple minutes late. I hoped Dave was also running late.
As luck would have it, Dave was on time, and was leaning against the entrance of the building. He was wearing some black skinny jeans and a red button up shirt, which was covered with a black hoodie with white fur on the inside. I wanted to say something like, "Typical Dave!" but I hadn't known him long enough. But it felt like I had known him before. "I'm sorry I'm late! I lost track of time and-"
"In MY world you're right on time. But YOU wouldn't understand what I mean by that. Not yet anyway..." Dave mumbled to himself.
I tilted her head slightly. "Um... I don't know what you mean by that, but I guess it means you're not mad." I said with a smile.
"Yeah. Guys like me rarely get mad. We just get even. You'll find out what that means later."
"Or you can just tell me now." I offered, but he just chuckled slightly.
"I could do that, or we could go get something to eat. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."
"Are we going to eat here?"
"Are you shitting me? What kind of Southern gentleman would I be if I brought a lady to eat at her place of employment? A pretty shitty one, I'd say. Nah, there's a place down the street I got reservations for. Come on." He took my elbow and led me towards a small, beat up, red car. I had no clue what kind it was, but I'm sure if I asked, Dave would be able to tell me a lot about it. He seemed like one of those guys.
He was even polite enough to open the passenger side door and he closed it after me. As he walked around, I saw him mumbling to himself again, and I might have even caught a glimpse of anxiety on his face, but I would never question him on it. He got in and he drove off without another word.