"I'm 18," I replied to the waiter.
"Oh, congratulations! No longer a minor, huh? Well, have fun today."
"I will." I smiled one of the snottiest smiles I could manage. It worked. The waiter went straight to my parents' orders.
One of the problems I always had with empathy was when I knew someone had the hots for me and I didn't return the feeling. I developed the snobby persona to weed out most of them. I was born attractive enough that this was a problem. I supposed if I were ugly, I'd complain about attractive women who hated being attractive. For me, though, it was always just that I could tell when men I didn't like were attracted to me. I certainly didn't begrudge men being attracted to me, if I liked them, in return.
My parents took me out to dinner and bought me a cake. I'd had a separate celebration with friends earlier.
Mom and Dad weren't rich by any means, but they went out of their way for my eighteenth birthday. They even managed to save enough money to buy me a used Toyota. It was a newish model with power everything. I was in love with my car more than I was any men I knew. I intended to keep it that way, but fate is sometimes funny about things like that. There certainly was one man I was completely obsessed with, but I never expected him to even notice me, so I thought I had chosen someone very safe to lust after. It was after dinner ended and we were home that I got the phone call that would change my mind.
"Hello," I answered.
I heard the voice of my obsession on the other end. My pussy was wet in an instant. He said, "Happy birthday, little girl."
"Thanks. So, uh, you want to talk to my dad?" I immediately felt like a fool. I could hear how foolish I was in my voice. This man, named Martin, worked with my father for just over ten years. I thought about how I'd developed my first crush on him when I was eight years old. He was tall, dark, and handsome at 29, and remained perfect to my eye, in the following ten years.
"No, actually, I wanted to talk to you. I thought I'd see if you wanted to go down to The Buzz with me."
I was stunned. This was the first hint he ever made that he was the slightest bit interested in me. I thought about making up an excuse to stay home. I didn't feel confident with myself at all. In one instant, all my hopes and dreams were being answered, and here, I was trying to run away. I stopped myself from backing out of it. It was just a coffeehouse. If things got too sticky, I could leave. I had my own car, and I was free to do as I chose, now.
"Yes, I'll meet you down there. Say in an hour?"
"Uh, well, an hour? Okay, I can do that. See you at ten, then."
"See you at ten."
Mom and Dad didn't hear the conversation. I wondered if I should lie. I thought about how things would be if my father thought of me on a date with his coworker. Albeit, Martin was younger than my father, but still older than me, and he was my father's coworker. I decided against telling my parents I was going to meet him. I left it at "friends" and didn't specify which ones. They were lenient with me in my late teens. I had never been a problem child. Sure, I had my moments, but I'd proven myself trustworthy, so far. Now I was eighteen and I'd never let them down.
I drove down to the college campus area. The coffeehouse was just across from the dorms. It was close enough to the street with the tattoo parlors and the independent record stores, and yet right across from campus. They had a healthy taste of both the underground crowd and college dwellers. I had been there with friends many, many times. They sold records and CD's upstairs, and coffee and light menu items downstairs. I dressed appropriately in black, baggy clothes. I primped my dyed-black curls, and applied a little vanity make-up. As far as I was concerned, I looked damned good. I'd never be a super model, but I'd found men didn't need supermodels. They needed people like me. This discovery had come after a long fight with myself over whether I was attractive or not. High school had been cruel, but since graduation I'd had the attention of more men than I ever thought possible. I never lacked for a date in the last two months, and I never worried about what I was going to do on any given night. I was starting to enjoy the attention that surrounded me.
I found a spot in the parking lot near a gas station. I walked briskly to the coffee/record shop, along Jefferson, under the bright lights. I was bursting with both joy and nervous anticipation. I still had a trembling fear that Martin wouldn't show up. I repeated to myself, "Oh, god, if Martin doesn't show up, I hope there's someone there that I know, instead." There was a likely chance that someone would be there. I still longed to see those almond eyes peer at me, instead of being stood up.
I was greeted by my friend, Kelly, almost as soon as I walked in the door.
She squealed, "Ara!" She then ran at me full speed ahead. She spun me around in a hug. She asked, "What are you doing here? I thought after your parents' dinner you were going to stay in tonight."
"I'm meeting someone here."
"Oh, I seeeeeeee. Who?"
I looked around. It would do no good to say his name. I made a gamble that he was there already and waiting for me to notice him. Sure enough, in a seat by the window, he was sitting by himself. I pointed for Kelly's benefit.
"Oh, my. Okay. Well, have fun." Kelly strolled off to the table with her two friends.
I sat across from Martin. I smiled and tried to infuse a sparkle in my eye that he might notice. He looked at me, and gave me a soft smile. Immediately, I started to feel his attraction to me. It was a nice reassurance. I put my hands together, and looked at him to wait to see if he wanted to start the conversation. One of the servers interrupted us, though. I ordered a cappucino and the apathetic-eyed server left us.
"Did you already order?" I asked.
"Yes, I did. I wasn't quite sure you were going to show up."
"Funny, I was thinking the same thing. I didn't even know you knew I existed."
"Good act, wasn't it? If you didn't notice, then I know no one else noticed."
