"Is he cute?" Leslie pressed me when I Skyped her later that night. "Please tell me that you didn't say yes to someone who wasn't cute."

"Yes," I giggled. "He's cute."

My friend grinned back at me. "A cute foreigner named Gregor. I thought you weren't looking for romance, Miss Sam."

"I wasn't! Sometimes good things just happen!"

"Good things will happen if he has a big –"

"Stop!" I shrieked, holding out my hand. "I told you that I'm not going there. No sex for me."

Leslie flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"You've already told me you aren't a virgin. I don't think it would be so bad to do it again."

I frowned at her. "Excuse me, Miss Teen Mom, but shouldn't you be preaching abstinence?"

Leslie shrugged, glancing to the left toward where Gavin – her one month old baby – was presumably sleeping.

"It wasn't sex that got me into trouble," she sighed. "It was doing it without a condom that got me in trouble. So, I'm not preaching anything but safe sex. Which, you know, you should have with Gregor-the-cutie if you so decide that he is worthy of you."

I couldn't help but smile at her. Up until a few months ago, if someone had asked me if I would ever be friends with Leslie, I would have replied with a strong 'never'. She had been one of my biggest bullies when I had lived in New Orleans. When I had returned, we'd encountered one another by chance. I thought that meeting would be the end of it but, no. In some strange twist of fate, Leslie and I had become friends. She wasn't the girl from my horrific memories of my childhood; becoming pregnant at such a young age had changed Leslie for the better and now, I couldn't imagine my life without her.

"Well, we'll have to wait and see if he is worthy," I replied.

"Good things come to those who wait," Leslie quipped. "Is he picking you up soon?"

"Like, in an hour," I answered, checking my clock.

"What are you wearing?"

"Clothes, likely."

"Sam, honey, now is not the time for your sass," Leslie instructed. "We're going to pick out a cute first date outfit for you."

"Leslie, I don't think it's –"

"You had better not end that sentence with 'necessary'. Of course it's necessary! It's a first date. You want to make a good first impression."

"Our 'first impression', was him walking into the bathroom after I was done in there. I don't think I'm going to do much worse."

"Did you shit?" Leslie whispered.

"What!?"

"Like, when you were in the bathroom," Leslie clarified, blue eyes wide. "Did you shit?"

"No!"

"Then no harm, no foul. He doesn't know what you were doing in the bathroom, it didn't smell and he obviously still wants to go out with you because he hasn't texted you yet with some lame excuse to not see you. So, no harm, no foul. Now, pick me up and carry me into your closet so we can find you something cute to wear."

I sighed and did as she asked. Sometimes Leslie could get a little (extremely) bossy but I didn't mind it. Being bossy was a part of her nature and, besides, I could stand up to myself when she crossed the line into a dictatorship. Tara was the same way – a force of nature.

I entered my closet and placed my laptop on one of the little tables that I had set up.

"Hmm," Leslie murmured. "You don't have much of a selection."

"I didn't see the point in dragging my entire wardrobe from New Orleans to here, especially since I'm only going to be here a month."

Leslie rolled her eyes again. A major part of Leslie's life was clothing and fashion; as a fashion protégée, I was a disappointment to her but I wasn't crying over it. I didn't dress like a hobo, generally, and I liked what I wore; I always felt like it fit my personality.

"What's that black thing there?" Leslie demanded, pointing.

"What black thing? Ninety-eight percent of my wardrobe is made up of 'black things'."

"Luckily, we're working on the colour thing," Leslie giggled. "But no, to the left … You're other left, honey. Now, up one … Okay and left one more time … Wait! No, sorry it was right that time. Oops. Yes! Right there. What's that?"

"It's a skirt," I answered, picking the hanger up off the pole and presenting it to her.

"Ooh!" Leslie gushed. "That's really cute and it'll make you look like a badass. I vote for that skirt."

"Are you sure?" I questioned.

It wasn't that I didn't like the skirt, because I did. It was made of black faux leather with a lace cut out on the left side at the very bottom. It was short; it only came to about mid-thigh. The length wasn't really my problem with the skirt – it was usually the length that I wore them – but it was tight. The leather-esque material would cling to my legs and make awkward squeaking sounds if I were sweating in it. Not that I was planning on getting sweaty but, you know, summer nights aren't known for being cold.

"Yes. Trust me, okay?" Leslie shot me a smile. "Now, let's talk shirts. We can't have you wandering around half-naked, though I'm sure Gregor would just eat you up!"

"Shirts," I sighed, getting Leslie back on track.

"Right. Go for something long but breathable. That way you'll look cute and you won't freeze your tits off if it's not sweltering tonight."

"Have I ever told you I love how eloquent you are?"

"Have I ever told you I have no idea what eloquent means?"

I turned my back on her and began to flip through the assortment of shirts that I had in Amity Park. I reached for one, but it elicited a sharp screech from Leslie.

"Stay away from the peasant top, Manson. Just don't. Not with that skirt."

I immediately backed off and picked up another one. "Okay, does this work?"

Leslie didn't comment for a moment. "I like it. It's cute, it's you and it's got some colour. Nice choice, Manson."

"Thank you," I said, grinning.

I put the top with the skirt. I didn't think I'd ever worn the top before – it was one of Mother's picks – but looking at it now, I couldn't see why I had avoided it. It was a nice shade of blue, like the sky in the middle of summer. It was long sleeved … sort of. The sleeves went from my wrists to just under my bicep and then revealed my shoulders. There was a thick strap that came over my collarbone on each side, similarly to where the straps would be if it was just a tank top. These straps had a cute little silver buckle on them, giving the shirt a hint of decoration.

"Now, find some cute jewellery, a pair of shit-kicker boots and we'll have a total winner."

(-.-)

Gregor was supposed to pick me up in fifteen minutes and I was nervous.

To put my life in perspective, I had never been on a real date before. Obviously I had Phantom – who was everything from my first kiss to my first sexual partner – but because he was a well-known, ghostly figure, we had never gone on a real date. The closest we'd ever come was Paullina Sanchez's Halloween party and he'd barely been there for that. Long story short, I didn't know how I was supposed to act.

(Okay, yes, I'd decided that I was going to pretend to be confident, but 'fake it 'til you make it' seems good in theory. When you try to put it into practice, well, things are a little different.)

I nearly jumped out of my skin when my cell phone vibrated in my hand.

Gregor: I'm here. Should I come in?

Me: Nah, I'm the only one home. I'll come out and meet you.

Gregor: Hurry! I'm anxious to see you

Either this was going to be a fantastic night or I was going to end up dead in a ditch. As I headed outside to my driveway, my last thought before getting in the car was: well, at least I'll make a fabulous corpse.

"You look fantastic," Gregor told me.

I blushed and busied myself with putting on my seatbelt.

"T-thanks," I stuttered. "You look nice too."

And he did. He was wearing casual beige shorts with a nice white button-up with short sleeves. He was making me feel slightly over dressed though, and I was beginning to get worried that I wasn't dressed appropriately for what Gregor might have in mind for tonight. Why had I gone with the skirt? I should have gone with jean shorts.

"So, I thought we'd get something to eat first, you know, if you're hungry."

"I could eat," I told him. Then I glanced at the silent radio. "Do you mind if I put something on?"

"No, no, go ahead. My iPod is plugged in, if you want to pick something from that," he offered.

I picked up the iPod and began scrolling as Gregor drove. As I looked through it, I liked what I saw. Not only was there good ol' MCR, but Gregor also listened to Hedley, Breaking Benjamin, Halestorm, Evanescence … Just to name a few of my favourites that I saw in his list of artists. He also had a surprising amount of country music on his iPod.

And country music is exactly what I put on. Somehow, Jason Aldean was perfect for the drive.

"So, this might not be the most typical place for a first date," Gregor began as the car started slowing down, "but in my few months in Amity, I have found that this is one of my favourite places around the town. I wanted to share it with you."

I looked up at the building in front of us. It was a retro diner but it was too big to just be a diner. Through the front windows, I could see an eating area – complete with neon, a jukebox and red vinyl booths – but there was a black doorway that obviously led to the huge back of the building.

"What's at the back of the building?" I finally asked, after we sat in the car for a moment and I stared at the building, trying to figure out just what it was.

"It's a roller skating rink," Gregor explained with a grin.

"Are you serious?" I was so excited about the prospect of the rink that I didn't even consider regretting the skirt. Somehow, I would make it work.

"Yes, completely," Gregor laughed. "Are you ready to eat and roller skate? I promise that this place has some good vegetarian options too – it's not all hamburgers."

"I'm really excited," I admitted, not even slightly ashamed at how much of a child I sounded. "Let's go in!"

Gregor grinned and we both climbed out of the car. I couldn't help but drink in all of the sights of the diner; it truly did live up to the fifties aesthetics that were promoted on the outside. As we stepped inside – Gregor holding the door for me – I was assaulted with the smell of grease and the sound of the jukebox and, underneath of the music, the sound of wheels and laughter.

I was practically lusting after that roller skating rink. I'd never tried it in my life and I'd never really thought about trying it before, but now that the opportunity was presented before me, I couldn't wait to get onto the skates and go for it. I would have insisted that we go roller skating first, if my stomach wasn't growling so ferociously at me.

We slid into a booth. My skirt made an uncomfortable squeaking noise that I didn't even try to explain because what the hell was I going to say? And, you know, I figured he was bright enough to figure it out or tactful enough that he wouldn't mention it even if he thought that I was just gassy.

"The milkshakes here are delicious," Gregor commented as a waitress on roller skates (how freakin' awesome was that?!) brought us our menus. "Especially the chocolate ones."

I peeked at him over the top of my menu. "You are reading my mind."

This date was going to go swimmingly; I could tell.

I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: Forever Sky.

~TLL~