«As you probably figured out, I’m not the kind of person who likes being in soone’s debt, so tomorrow afternoon I’ll make up for the drink you offered last week.»
That’s what Kimberly told yesterday, after school. And as if that weren’t enough...
«...since I haven’t decided where to go yet, I’ll give you my number so we can sort things out later for tomorrow.»
Getting a girl’s phone number isn’t exactly a big deal, but when it cos to soone like Kimberly it can be considered a real victory — a small yet aningful step toward the goal.
At this point, I just hope all this waiting and effort will be worth it. Sure, she’s undoubtedly the most beautiful girl in the school, but I’m convinced she’s still a virgin, so the first ti will probably be a disaster — even if she gives the impression of being a quick learner.
But one thing is certain: she’s not the type for a one-night stand followed by "friends like before". She’s clearly one of those who expect a serious relationship, dates, family dinners — basically the whole "happy couple" package... and honestly, introducing her to Veronica would be the stupidest thing I could ever do in my life.
And yet, if I sohow managed to keep this potential relationship hidden from Veronica and all my flings hidden from Kimberly... yeah, it might actually be doable.
But let’s leave it at that — there’s no point in worrying about it now.
In the end, Kimberly chooses Gantry Plaza State Park in Long Island City, just a few steps from the Church of the God of Light where Naomi and I followed her a few weeks ago.
A place that calling a bar would be far too generous — it’s a real dive, but in the end what matters is the company, right? And right now I couldn’t ask for better company — even if we’ve never even held hands.
Absurd. I could call dozens of won to spend a quiet afternoon having sex, and yet it doesn’t even cross my mind. Maybe it’s the thrill of the challenge.
Anyway, here we are, sitting at the outdoor tables of this shithole... uh, I an, of this bar, surrounded by shady-looking individuals.
After years spent roaming the worst neighborhoods of New York in search of blood, it takes just a glance to spot scum — and this place is full of it. We’re literally surrounded by a pack of unemployed thugs who spend their days drinking and making noise. What kind of place did she bring to?!
«Did you see that piece of ass over there? Wanna bet I’ll make her suck off right here, in front of everyone?»
«What do you think you’re gonna do with that rat face? You’d scare her off just by looking at her. Leave it to — it’s better.»
That’s the tone of the comnts, spoken without the slightest discretion, coming from the tables around us. And through all this she doesn’t show the faintest sign of discomfort or embarrassnt. Sure, probably because she doesn’t even hear them — but with my sharpened vampire hearing I catch every single word, and God, they’re really pissing off. I’d kill them one by one on the spot, but I guess this isn’t the right mont.
«So, Kimberly, are you excited? Only two days left until the fashion show,» I ask casually, taking a sip of beer — basically colored dirty water that looks like piss.
It was supposed to be a simple, innocent question to break the ice... but I never would’ve imagined it would trigger panic.
Kimberly imdiately starts to fidget, nervously tapping her foot on the ground and letting out a few frustrated groans.
«Y-Yes, I’m excited... very excited... too excited! Damn it, I’m literally dying of fear!» Kimberly replies, her teeth chattering. She’s so embarrassed that the blush is clearly visible despite her naturally tanned skin. «T-There will be journalists, photographers, special guests, professional models — even so national broadcasters — and so many spectators! If I ssed sothing up, if I tripped, or if I made a fool of myself... the whole world would know! It would be so embarrassing...»
I can’t really bla her. Kimberly isn’t used to the spotlight, and on top of that she doesn’t seem to have any predisposition for large audiences. She gets uncomfortable and starts stamring from embarrassnt even in class when she’s called up to the blackboard, let alone walking a runway at a national event where she’ll be the star of the evening. Honestly, I wouldn’t want to trade places with her.
«But wait, didn’t you say they’re preparing you ticulously for the event? So what do you have to worry about?» I ask, puzzled, munching on so chips so stale they feel like chewing gum.
«Yes, in theory... but during practice it’s just and Elenoire. The problem isn’t the steps on the runway during the show, or the posture — that part is easy. The problem is the nasty tricks my nerves might play on . I think it’s obvious to you too that I’m not exactly soone who enjoys being the center of attention...» Kimberly murmurs, clearly panicking.
«Well, if it helps, I could co watch the fashion show too — just give a bit of notice and I’ll organize it. Maybe seeing a familiar face in the audience could calm you down a little...»
It’s not like I really care about attending a fashion show, but the idea of seeing Kimberly again wearing that incredible deep-blue, diamond-studded dress with the plunging neckline and the dizzying slit that leaves her entire thigh exposed is definitely tempting.
She, however, looks at with a surprised — almost irritated — expression, raising an eyebrow.
«What do you an by "just give you notice"? I took it for granted that you’d co even without asking!» Kimberly snaps, turning even redder. «Of course you have to be there too, and you’d better know there’ll be hell to pay if I don’t see you in the front row! With all the money you have, it shouldn’t be a problem to get a seat under the runway — I hope for your sake there are still so left!»
It wasn’t obvious at all, but it’s good to know. Apparently, for so reason, she feels so comfortable and safe with that she needs to know I’ll be there with her to face that fashion show, and that’s a crucial milestone when you’re trying to win over a particularly reserved girl.
«Don’t worry, I’ll be in the front row cheering for you,» I reply with a dazzling smile, giving her a thumbs-up.
She returns the smile — that sa sweet, shy smile capable of lting even the coldest hearts. A smile so innocent it takes my breath away for a mont and fills with guilt at the sa ti.
It’s clear that she likes , but if she knew all of this started because of a stupid bet that then turned into a personal challenge — sleeping with the most beautiful yet also most prudish girl I’ve ever t — I doubt she’d be very happy.
But is that really the only reason for all these dates with her? Honestly, I don’t even know myself.
One thing is certain, though: we’ve spent three outings out of three talking nonstop for hours about anything and everything, and yet I’m not bored at all. On the contrary, I’m genuinely surprised by how quickly ti passes when I’m with her.
But unfortunately for us, it looks like the calm of this quiet afternoon is about to co to an end.
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