Bernensky Pierre

Best Date Ever

“What is the best date that you have ever been on?” It’s funny how she asks this. We were seventeen years old, eight o’clock at night, and we were on the phone, talking about going somewhere, anywhere that night. My mind was full of blanks—indecisive with my words. “I want go eat at Johnny’s, maybe Chili’s. What do you want to do?” She deferred to me, but I wanted her to be happy. I wasn’t the one to coax. I was nervous with this matter of where should we go and if she would be truly happy with the location. This was going to be our first date and I teetered with the thoughts of success and failure. She let out deep sighs that seemed to be frustration on her part. Failure seemed more imminent to me and success seemed to be improbable. I sat up on my bed, while my heart growled every millisecond. A slew of the growls led to heat that compressed my body, I was sweating. I was a mime looking at the mirror on my left, my words wouldn’t come out. “I really like her,” I thought, but that wasn’t enough to remove the thought of failure out of my pessimistic mind. “We can go anywhere Bernensky, anywhere,” she said softly. It was thirty minutes before nine and I broke free from my tenseness. I didn’t want to go far, I just wanted to talk to her face-to-face. I just wanted to see her face because I believed that there was something there that connected between the both of us. She was different, and as I put on my tight, grey jacket, I wished more girls like her existed.