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CRAIG: What was her costume?
Fuck. Why did I say that? It's the only true statement this entire conversation, and it's about to bite me in the ass.
ME: She was one of the Playboy Bunnies.
CRAIG: So she's a Zeta.
Is that why there were so many girls in those costumes?
I should start digging my own grave right now.
ME: Yes, and that's all you're getting out of me.
CRAIG: Fine, you can have the room, but I want to meet her first. I want to make sure she is who you say she is because my gut says that you're lying to me and playing with fire. You were obsessed with Evie. That doesn't just go away.
ME: I AM obsessed with Evie. It hasn't gone away. I'm also too pretty to die this young. And Max is scary as fuck when it comes to her. I wouldn't put it past him to dig me a grave in the cornfield.
There. Maybe that will suffice. Everything I said was true. My obsession with Evie is real. With the feel of her skin. The taste of her lips. The way her body fits perfectly against mine, like we're two pieces of a puzzle.
The real scandal here isn't the fact we've been seeing each other secretly. It's the fact she's stolen my heart, and I almost confessed that to her the other day.
The L word was on the tip of my tongue, and it almost slipped. I've never said that to a girl before, not even my high school girlfriend, Tandy. I thought I might have loved her, but I wasn't sure.
Now I know I didn't. The way I felt about her was nothing in comparison to how I feel about Evie.
CRAIG: Maybe I should show Max this thread. He'd love to see how scared you are of him. It would be a nice ego boost.
ME: Go ahead. I have no reason to be scared of Max since I'm NOT doing anything wrong.
He doesn't reply. I stare at my phone for twenty minutes waiting for him to say something, but it seems he's found something better to do with his time than annoy the shit out of me.
That doesn't mean he won't randomly show up here on Saturday night. To meet my mystery girl. The one I claimed isn't Evie. Which means I should probably find us somewhere else to go.
A quick search on my phone and two hundred bucks later, I've booked us a romantic room downtown and made dinner reservations at a nice restaurant. It'll be our first real date, and I plan to make it one she won't forget.
Not just because it'll be our first time together.
Evie deserves the best night of her life. And it's going to start when I pick her up.
ME: Six o'clock on Saturday. Wear a dress.
ANGEL: Easy access {laughing emoji}
ME: I like the thought of that, but I have bigger plans for you before I take that dress off with my teeth.
ANGEL: Naughty.
ME: Where do you want me to pick you up? Is it safe to come to your dorm? Will Sierra be suspicious?
ANGEL: Probably. Your car is a little loud. Why don't I meet you somewhere? I can tell her I'm going home for the night, and I can pick you up.
My car is more than a little loud. It's an obnoxious piece of shit. Not the worst in the parking lot, but still it stands out. Which is why I only drive when walking is out of the question.
ME: A guy picks a girl up for a date. Not the other way around. Plus, your bright red little sports car will stand out just as much.
ANGEL: True. Meet me at Brady's? I'll confirm with him.
I don't like it, but it's better than the alternatives. She gets back to me an hour later with Brady's address just as Craig walks in the door.
