Chapter 33: Dating

[May 2374 AD – POV Timotheus Sinterguth]

After a long discussion with her parents, as Primrose was still a minor at not quite seventeen years old at this time, I had received permission to date her. Her father and mother had been reluctant to grant that, as they would have much preferred a man closer to their daughter's own age for a first boyfriend, but they had come to accept Primrose's feelings for me, and we had agreed to some ground rules. Of course, I also had no intention to rush it and kind of stalk the girl, but I believed that it would be great to meet at least once during the week and maybe also sometimes during the weekend, like after the church service.

I had absolutely no idea about 'normal' ways of dating, about what a girl might expect from me, and what I should or should not do. For a start, though, I had learned – Corinna had been very helpful with details on her older sister's schedule – that Primrose had a long work day on Tuesday on a regular basis, and I intended to make it a habit to pick her up from her workplace on Tuesdays, when she had to work until about 18:15, provided that she liked me to do this, of course. There was no good bus connection at that time, so that she usually walked home, as I had been told, and when she first found me waiting for her just outside of the building, her face lit up like a light bulb, and she shouted:

"Timotheus! Are you waiting for me?"

"Yes, I am, Primrose. Your parents and your youngest sister were kind enough to let me know where you work and when you'd likely get off, and here I am!"

She stepped next to me and hugged me briefly, and I hugged her back. From the corner of my eye I noticed a couple of ladies leaving the same building where Primrose had come out from, and I saw them waving at us. My pretty companion noticed that as well and sighed:

"Oh no, tomorrow everybody will ask me who that good looking man was who hugged me."

"Oh, good looking?"

She blushed a little bit, but then she nodded:

"Yes, very good looking indeed."

"Not many have called me that; you know that I am a nerd with glasses, right?"

"Maybe so, but at least a handsome nerd with glasses. And you even dressed up!"

Indeed, I had decided that jeans and such were not good enough for a first date, and I wore a short sleeved shirt, a light sports coat and recently ironed slacks, whereas she was clothed in her usual work day attire, as far as I knew, which was old jeans and a sweat shirt, which had also seen better days. She looked at me again and said:

"When I look at you, I feel shabby in my work clothes."

"But you could not have known that I was going to pick you up, and I assume that you wear a lab coat or so at work, too?"

"Yes, I do, and what I wear is just something comfy. Now, what are you going to do with me?"

"May I assume that you have some appetite, and if so, may I invite you to dinner?"

"Dressed like I am?"

"Of course; let's find a simple place. As matter of fact, I prefer the simpler restaurants anyway over the more fancy ones. What are you up to? Do you have any specific food preferences? Anything you might be allergic to?"

I had asked her parents if if was okay if I treated her to dinner on those days, and as they were concerned about the cost – as I was not supposed to invite her to my place, we were going to eat out – I had to assure them that my parents were rich and I had quite a lot of money, which was a huge understatement, of course. But anyway, I had been given permission for my plans, but I did not know anything about what she liked to eat. She replied:

"I am rarely getting a chance to eat in a restaurant, so I don't really know, and I am not aware of any allergy I might have."

"Okay, so what about Italian?"

"All right, why not?"

There was a nice pizzeria close to her way home, and I had been there once or twice before. Italian food had penetrated many areas of Germany since the mid 20th century, and even after the Great War, Italian food, like pasta and pizza, stayed popular, and there were Italian restaurants and 'pizzerias' in many Central European cities, even though Italy as a country was much smaller and less significant compared to what it had been earlier. We entered the place, where I had been once or twice before, and got a table for two. When we had the menu in our hands, I needed to talk to her:

"Primrose, when you are with me, please do not be concerned about money. I told your parents already that my family has a lot of it, and spending a little bit of that to feed a pretty girl is a privilege. Does that work for you?"

She looked at herself and at her clothes, and I assumed that she had serious doubts about the adjective I had just used:

"Come on, 'pretty', really?

"I told you before that I consider you pretty, yes, I am serious. Your two sisters are already quite pretty at their age, if you allow me to say so, and you are actually more than pretty; you are gorgeous!"

Now I got her blushing again, and maybe I had overdone it; I had just spoken my opinion, though. I slowly added:

"Okay, enough about that topic for now; let's look at food options. What would you like to get?"

"I do not know most of what's on the menu anyway. We have spaghetti at home sometimes or pizza, but I do not know what like calamari is."

"Oh, you mentioned one of my favorites. What about that – why don't you take something you know and I get the calamari, and we can swap later if you want."

That worked for her, and she ordered a simple pizza and a glass of apple juice. When I also asked for juice, actually 'Johannisbeerschorle' (red currant juice mixed with sparkling water), she asked curiously:

"Why don't you order wine or beer?"

"I don't because I don't like it. I dislike alcoholic drinks in general, and I much prefer juice and milk."

Primrose seemed to like that preference of mine, and when I asked why, she explained:

"A few times in the last couple of years, even when I was with my parents, I have been exposed to stupid comments from drunk men, like asking for a kiss or worse, and it was quite disgusting just hearing those comments. Also, drunk people smell real bad. Just smelling alcohol triggers bad memories in my head, and I am always very glad when nobody in my vicinity drinks wine or beer or such."

I nodded and found myself in full agreement, and soon our food was served. Primrose liked her pizza, and I indulged in my calamari with fries and green salad. She asked for a bite and I gave her one, and she also liked it, and it did not take long for us to finish. When we had eaten, I told my pretty companion:

"Do you know that this is kind of my first real date ever?"

"What do you mean? You certainly went out with girls before, right?"

"Well, not to a restaurant. I once had a girlfriend, but only for a short period of time, and we mostly met for studying and … other things. She was not into going out together, and our separation was not really pleasant. A few other girls I talked to told me clearly that they did not want to be seen with a nerd like me."

"What, really?"

I nodded, and Primrose touched one of my hands with hers and said:

"At least you are a handsome nerd, and I sure don't mind to be seen with you at all!"

We did not linger much longer, as I had promised her parents to have her home before 21:00. When I had paid the bill and we left the pizzeria, there was still daylight outside as we were in early May. The temperature was still comfortable, and when I walked her home, Primrose tentatively grabbed my hand, and I pressed hers back to confirm that this was all right. I told her that I might treat her to dinner on a more or less regular basis on Tuesdays, and when I delivered her home to her parents, she blew a kiss on my cheek; I could see that I had made her day.

Sleep did not come easy to me on this evening. I found myself thinking about Primrose more and more, in a good way, and I felt quite happy about that. I was not entirely sure about my feelings yet, but there was a girl, still a minor, but at least almost seventeen, who actually liked me, and I managed to talk to her in a normal way; this was new for me. I wondered what the catch might be? Was that really happening, or was I maybe dreaming?

When I picked up Primrose again one week later, I asked if she'd prefer to go to another place to eat this time, but I got this reply:

"The menu in the pizzeria had so many interesting names, and if they all taste as good as what I had last week, I am kind of looking forward to getting more of that Italian food. So, if it's all right with you, can we go there again and the next few times, please?"

"Sure, no problem with that at all; next to some traditional German dishes, Italian food is my favorite anyway."

My date – I loved to think about her as my date – ordered tortellini this time, while I asked for lasagne. While we waited for our meal to be served, I asked her:

"Primrose, do you know if your name has any relation to the girl with the same name who was reaped for Panem՚s 74th Hunger Games?"

She nodded and explained:

"At the time when I was born my parents lived in Panem. They do believe that the Everdeen family is in the line of our ancestors, although the details of our relationship got lost over time. Do you recall how Prim was supposed to look like?"

"Yes, I do! Mostly like you, with blond hair, and her eyes I think were also supposed to be between blue and green, turquoise like."

"Exactly! But how do you know about that?"

"Well, our family also claims that the Everdeens and the Mellarks are in the line of our ancestors. We have a few diaries from that time, and while some historical documents claim that Primrose Everdeen died during the rebellion while trying to help children and young adults with her healing abilities, the diaries claim that she survived, married the baker's oldest son, Rye, and that she managed to actually become a medical doctor in District Twelve later on. Above and beyond that, I even have a cousin over in District Twelve in Panem who is also named Primrose; she is about your age, actually."

Primrose's eyes were now very big, and her mouth was partially open:

"You have diaries from that time? This is so fascinating!"

"But let's get back to you for a moment. How did your parents get to pick that name?"

"Well, when I was born, my eyes were already that color, I was told, and my blond hair was showing, so that naming me 'Primrose' seemed to be a spontaneous decision. Later on my family moved to Erlangen, and my parents picked German names for my two younger sisters."

"So you were actually born in Panem?"

"Yes, indeed, at that time my parents lived there, and we moved to this area when I was still a toddler, as I was told."

"I like your name a lot, but I can imagine that kids might have made fun of it at school."

She blushed again a little, for the first time this evening, and nodded:

"Of course they did – I was called 'Primelchen' a lot, specifically in younger years, when I had not been that tall yet."

I had to be careful not to giggle, but my face must have betrayed me, and Primrose noticed that. She pouted for a moment, and I took her hand in mine and hastened to explain:

"Primrose, believe me, while I was making fun of that for a few seconds, I think that I like it. You see, I like flowers, and primrose flowers have been one of my favorites for a long time. I consider your name more like a compliment. Primrose flowers have so many different and vibrant colors, and they are quite beautiful – as are you."

Now she clearly blushed again, and in my eyes that made her even more beautiful. I had to admit to myself that I was quite surprised about my own words. Normally I was not able to come up with compliments like that at all, but Primrose somehow made it possible. This girl had quite an effect on me, and time spent with her was time spent well. Was it possible that I was already falling for her?

When we had eaten, we left the pizzeria and I walked Primrose home. Her parents greeted me and told me that I was invited to lunch with them after church on next Sunday, if that worked for me. I gladly accepted and took my leave.

On Sunday morning I did not see the Seeberger family at church right away, but I was sitting close to the front and thus could not easily see what happened behind me. During the service I felt a little bit uneasy; I was not so great in social conversations, and what would we talk about when I visited the Seeberger family? On the other hand, I had had spent some time with another family, the Madisons, a couple of years earlier, and that had worked quite well.

We met in front of the church after the service, and as the Seeberger apartment was not very far, we walked there. Primrose kept some distance to me, and I assumed that she might be a little bit shy when her parents were around. Her shyness was more than compensated by they way her two sisters behaved around me. I was their youth group leader, after all, and specifically Corinna treated me more like a big brother than anything else. She grabbed my hand most of the time and gave all signs of being totally excited and happy about having me with them. In addition to that, she was quite a chatterbox, and her mother actually told her once or twice to slow down, and eventually she, the mother, asked me:

"Mr. Sinterguth, say, with girls of her age talking and moving so much, how can you run the youth group and get anything done at all?"

I almost laughed, and she did have a point. There had been some days when sitting and talking had been challenging, but fortunately the youth group sessions did not have a fixed agenda, not like school. Thus I replied:

"I admit that sometimes this can be difficult. Not all of the girls are as active as your youngest daughter is, but I fully understand that after sitting and mostly being quiet for many hours at school and then also having to do some homework some children need a chance to frolic, to exercise their limbs and also tongues. On some days, I am allowing them to do this, and we frequently play some ball games in the parish hall yard. Playing with them also makes me feel younger, I admit, and I really like it. Usually we do get a chance to talk, too, and we mostly have a free discussion rather than lessons; everybody can provide their opinion at any time, and they are not required to sit quietly either. We have some hopper balls in our large room, and some times two or three of the girls hop around while listening or talking."

"How do you stand that? Isn't this totally irritating?"

"It can be, but I got used to it. Sometimes I wonder if companies shouldn't offer something like in offices, too; it can be quite invigorating, and I am sometimes using one of those balls, too!"

Mrs. Seeberger shook her head, and I could clearly see that she did not agree with me, at least not fully. We now arrived at their residence, and Mrs. Seeberger and Christine went into the kitchen right away to work on lunch preparation. Mr. Seeberger insisted to spend some time just with me, and he asked me about my job and education; as he had been in Panem before, although many years ago, when Primrose has not yet been in school, he was also interested about my twin cousin and the situation in District Twelve.

Finally, the Sunday meal was served, and we all sat around the table. We got roast beef with dumplings and cabbage, and it was nicely done. When I complimented Mrs. Seeberger on the food, she replied:

"Actually, this is addressed to the wrong person. Christine has done most of it, and I have just been assisting her."

Cooking options were, in what I had seen in the small kitchen in the Seeberger apartment, quite limited, with most meals partially or fully prepared by auto-cooks anyway, but apparently the middle sister tried at least. My own kitchen at home was larger and had more options, and sometimes I did prepare a meal fully on my own.

During the afternoon, we played a few old fashioned board games together and had, overall, a nice time, before I finally took my leave and headed home again.

On next Tuesday evening we met again, and following my date's preferences, we headed to the same pizzeria for dinner again. On this day there was some rain, and I had brought a big umbrella with me. Primrose had not planned ahead and had neither raincoat nor umbrella with her, and I could not blame her for that, as the rain had not been mentioned in the forecast for the day. When we met, Primrose was more than happy to see me with the umbrella, and she linked her arm with mine right away.

"You see," I said, "this appears to be one of those days when the weather missed to read the weather forecast."

She chuckled, and when I looked at her, she seemed to be quite happy walking close to me. The Italian owner of the pizzeria greeted us like regular customers now and offered a smiling 'Buona sera!', even with us not really speaking the language. But the meaning was clear, and we got what was by now our usual table. This evening Primrose selected fish from the menu and I followed her example, and I also ordered a mix of appetizers.

While we waited for the food to be served, we talked about our hobbies and such. I admitted that I liked to play computer games occasionally, but that I also had done some kind of bodybuilding during the last few years. I had been annoyed about my own tall and lank body as a teenager, and thus I had started to go to a gym on a regular basis to build my muscles.

Primrose looked at me and said:

"I find it hard to imagine you being lank!"

"Oh, I was. Next time we meet I can show you a few older photos of mine."

"Yes, I would love to see them. I actually had a similar issue. I had been bullied a few times when being much younger, and I had started early on to do some martial arts. I am a brown belt in Judo and Karate now, and those training sessions are actually quite nice. Due to my size, there are a few things I can do which most other girls cannot."

She continued:

"My sister Christine is into track and field sports and goes running a lot. My parents do not like her to go on her own, and when her friends are not available, I sometimes run with her and also do other exercises, like shot put and long jump. I have found that I like to exercise my body."

Well, that explained her lean and athletic body, not that I had seen any details, of course. While a devious part of my mind tried to distract me for a moment by suggesting certain other 'exercises' such an athletic body might be able to do well, with some mental effort I succeeded in putting those thoughts to the side, at least for now, and suggested:

"Maybe at some time, I could join Christine and you for some track and field training?"

"You would, really?"

Yes, I would, and I had an ulterior motive for that which I did not want to mention – I imagined Primrose in short sports clothes and seeing her muscles move while she trained. Not that I was going to admit that motive, of course.

[Author's Notes: The nickname 'Primelchen' is something like 'little Primrose', but used in a derogative way.]