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"Get out. Just leave, okay? I want you to go."
"Okay, okay," he said, putting his hands up. "I'll go."
"Thank you," I said, relieved.
"Have fun on your date. Call me afterward," he said. I said I would so I could hurry him out the door. I took the empty Tupperware to the sink and threw out the banana peel. What a hound. His place was messy, but it wasn't a sty. He had to have a maid service or something keeping it together for him.
He still hadn't made up for the day at the coffee shop that he had stood me up. I had gone to his place during the week, but he had just given me a bullshit throwaway excuse when I had called him on it. He had said all this stuff about how I was being too intense and needed to dial it back, and then we had had sex and just hadn't brought it up again.
It was so dumb that I was feeling like this when he was so unbo
thered. It was getting harder and harder to see those redeeming qualities that I spent so much time trying to show Tiffany that he had. He had encouraged me to go out with another guy – he didn't give a fuck.
I went to my room to grab my phone. I'd take his advice and go out with another guy since dating me was too much of a responsibility for him. If nothing else, I'd get a good night out with decent company and a meal. What did I have to lose? I held the phone to my ear waiting for Tiffany to pick up. I knew she would already be at work, but I wasn't going to take long.
"Hello?"
"Tiff?"
"Hey, what's up? I can't really talk right now, could you text me?" she asked.
"I'll be quick. I wanted to talk to you about that date," I said.
"Yeah?" she said expectantly.
"Tell your mystery man I'll be there."
Chapter Nine
Roman
"Don't wear that."
"What's wrong with it?"
"A polo is too casual. It's a sit-down dinner date, you can't show up to a restaurant at night in one of those," Tiffany said. I hung the shirt back up in the closet.
"Better?" I asked, holding up a button down white shirt.
"Not white. Something colored." I rolled my eyes, putting the shirt back up with the rest and pulling out a light blue one.
"Should I wear a tie, too?" I asked sarcastically.
"It's a date, not a job interview," she snapped from my bed.
"I'm a big boy, Tiffany. I'm pretty sure I know how to get dressed myself."
"First impressions are everything, Roman. She might forgive your shitty personality if you look good," she said. I put the shirt on, buttoned it up. She had chosen the tan slacks I was wearing, too.
"I already don't like her. She sounds shallow."
"I'm trying to help you, Roman."
"Then tell me what I'm walking into tonight. If I'm spending money on this girl, I at least want to know who she is."
"She's cute... Blonde hair, same age as you, average height..."
"That doesn't really narrow down the pool, Tiff. That's about a good forty percent of my graduating class."
