“Yup,” I say, nodding. “I’m a twenty-year-old virgin about to go on my first date. And she’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. And I’m kinda losing my shit. Like, I have no idea what I’m doing, and I’ve got ten minutes to figure it out. Any suggestions?”
“Hell yeah,” says Ollie. “I’ve got a suggestion: shots.”
“Jesus,” mutters Santos.
“I probably shouldn't,” I tell them. “I’ve gotta drive.”
“Nah,” Van tells me. “I’ll take you. I’m only hydrating tonight. And downtown parking is a bitch on Friday nights.”
“You sure you don’t mind?” I say, taking the shot glass and lemon Ollie offers.
“Nope, I’ve got nothing else going on. But you might wanna take it easy. Ollie’s got a lead hand and tequila will fuck your shit right up.”
“I’m good,” I tell him, though good is probably a stretch. But I’ll be better after I take a shot. I need a little something to take the edge off, and then I’ll be golden.
Ollie preps his shot, and I do the same. “Bottoms up,” he says, tipping the drink into his mouth. I follow, and the tequila burns as it goes down. But it’s just the shot of liquid courage I need. Because I may be new at this, but I want my first date to be fucking awesome—and not because it’s mine, but because it’s with Mel. Granted, we’ve only texted a few times this week, but she’s cool. And she didn’t freak out or back out, even though Ollie set us up. And that’s pretty awesome, so I figure I owe her the best date she’s ever had.
I was nervous a couple minutes ago, but the tequila is doing its thing and mellowing me out. I have no doubt Mel and I are going to have the best time tonight.
13
Will
This date is not going well. I’m a total newb, and even I know that.
It started off strong. I decided to walk and burn off some nervous energy, and I saw Mel as I approached the restaurant. We did the awkward should-I-shake-or-should-I hug thing and settled somewhere in the middle. We stepped inside, the hostess seated us, and we ordered drinks.
And that’s where it all started to go downhill.
Because yeah, Van insisted I only do one shot to calm my nerves. But then the guys went back to their video game, and I reasoned that if one worked, two would be better. And three would be best. And after that, I had another. And then another other. Or another other? I dunno. I’m kinda wasted.
Now, I’m 6’4” and 225 lbs. I’m no lightweight. But I’ve never been a huge drinker.And five shots of straight tequila on an empty stomach was probably a bad idea. And it took a minute for all the alcohol to hit me. I was fine, and then it all kinda slammed into me at once.I’m trying my damnedest to be normal and make sure Mel has a good time, but I’m pretty sure I’m fucking this up. But I’m not totally sure. Maybe I should ask her.
I stand up from my seat and walk to the other side of the table, pulling out the chair next to Mel and sitting down. That’s better. It’s too loud in here. “I have a question,” I say.
“Does it necessitate you invading my bubble of personal space?” she asks.
I lean in close so I don’t have to shout. “Yessss,” I say, certain I’m slurring my words, but unsure how to stop it.
Mel rears back a bit. “Oh my god, are you drunk?”
“Nope,” I assure her. “Maybe?” I amend. “I did shots at the house cause I’m nervous. But only a couple,” I say holding up my hand.
“A couple? Or five?”
“Yeah,” I nod. “A couple or five.”
“Jesus,” she mutters, taking the little bread basket from our server as he attempts to set it down. He pours Mel the wine she ordered and passes a soda over to me before he starts rattling off specials. But I’m not paying any attention because bread. Mel put the little basket next to me, andoh my fucking god, this bread is good. Like, so good. Like really good. Someone else likes the bread too because they’re moaning. At our table. Oh wait, that’s just me.
The server leaves, and Mel turns to me.
“You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”
“Uh-uh,” I answer, shaking my head.
“Good, because I ordered you pasta bolognese. It’ll soak up some of that alcohol. What did you drink, anyway?”
“Tequila,” I answer, taking a sip of her wine. Yeah, that probably would have been a way better choice. I should have just had a glass of wine. But wine’s not really a staple at the hockey house.
