Instead of protesting, I nod. When she sees that she's made her point and has gotten through, she smirks and basks in her victory.
"That's all the info I have on him. We will both have to be surprised and do more digging tonight," she says triumphantly.
"Okay. So a guy named Bear, who doesn't want to be famous, plays music and is just one big ole mystery. Sums it up?" I ask with a sarcastic grin.
"Yeah, that about sums up the information I have on him, I guess." She shrugs and laughs.
"So, did Mav say how Mr. Tiktok feels about going on a blind date?"
She spits, and she laughs so hard at my 'Mr. TikTok' remarks, "Maverick said he hasn't dated in a while, and he's beingalmostjust as stubborn as you are,"
Well, I can't argue there. I sigh and shake my head in defeat. I won't put up the fight that I want to. I'm more at ease now than I was before. At least I won't be the only reluctant one there. Don't get me wrong, I'm still incredibly nervous, and I think this is a horrible idea, but I'm giving it a shot.
Mr. Earl and Dr. Carr had better be proud of me when I tell them I actually went through with this.
I may feel pretty tonight, but I'm still not sure why I let Izzy convince me to do my hair and makeup. Stepping out of the car and into the Louisiana humidity almost completely ruined my hair, and it was nearly perfect before we left the house. Now, the frizz has already taken control.
With this hair, there's no way I was meant to live down here. It was meant for much more fantastic, less humid weather. My dark brown, curly, puffy hair drives me crazy more than it doesn't, but part of me has learned to love it about myself, which is surprising. It's almost like my own little trademark piece.
I do like the outfit that Izzy and I finally agreed on. My hair and makeup may be more than I usually do, but my outfit is somewhat true to myself, which I love. I'm dressed casually. I wear a black long-sleeved crop top that falls below my naval. It's a v-cut neckline and shows a little cleavage. For me, that is the only thing that's a little different. I typically wear loose-fitted band T-shirts that cover me entirely.
I like my clothes to feel like a shield that protects and keeps me hidden. It doesn't feel that way tonight, and I'm not against it, which is truly surprising. Letting my cleavage show is odd, but I feel somewhat confident.
The shirt hugs me tight around my bust line and loosens as it goes down to my waistline. I'm wearing distressed blue jeans that are tight around my hips and butt and loosen as they go down and slightly fray at my ankles, paired with my black low-top Converse.
I almost let Izzy convince me to wear a dress, but she backed down quickly once I started fighting her on it. I think she was treading lightly, which is funny. Izzy does not tread lightly for anyone, especially not at my expense. I can see how badly she wanted me to come along and have a good night, so I'm not trying to be too difficult.
There was once a time when I loved wearing dresses—so much that they were almost a part of my identity. I'd even wear certain ones to sit around my house, and I'd wear them to play outside. They were an extension of me—until the flowy fabric was proven to betray me with its minimal coverage.
I learned quickly that I couldn't hide my body or myself in a dress. It's wild how the things you go through affect everything down to your core being. Trauma is like a tidal wave that crashes in without regard for its surroundings, overspraying and soaking whatever is in its wake, uncaring if it's waterproof or not. Trauma tarnishes even the little things that once seemed minute. It can turn you into a version of yourself you sometimes don't even tend to recognize.
"Earth to Via!" Izzy whispers in my ear as she snaps in front of my face. I love her, but she knows how to get someone's attention when she wants it obnoxiously.
"Yes, ma'am?" I ask her sarcastically as we continue walking through the parking lot toward the restaurant.
She rolls her eyes and nudges me with her shoulder.
"Don't be an asshat, I asked if you're sure you're ready for this?"
"Well, you've picked a hell of a time to ask me that question sincerely. Ready or not…. Here we are!" I sigh, and she ignores me with a smug smirk, and we continue.
I'm glad the restaurant is laid back. Crave's is my favorite restaurant, located in New Orleans. It's an eclectic place filled with bright colors, rock bands, memorabilia, and local artists' most recent works. They also offer amazingly diverse menu options; everything I've ever tried is delicious. My favorite part is the rooftop dining option. I'm a little sad we aren't dining up there tonight. I love taking in the view of the city from up there.
Walking in, we quickly spot Maverick, but he doesn't see us. It's busy and loud here tonight. So loud that I could barely hear my thoughts. I see the back of the head of the guy sitting across from him, which I conclude to be "Bear."
He seems to have longer brown hair on top, although I can't get a good look at it with his baseball cap on. He's wearing a short-sleeve black shirt that is nicely snug around the muscles on his arms. I can see tattoos spread on both his arms, down to his hands.
I haven't seen his face yet, but just from the back of him, he already seems like he'll be attractive.
Tattoos have never been something that excites me in someone's appearance. Some girls go crazy over that shit.
Once you have so many of your own, it's like, "Oh, you have tattoos? Cool!" or "Oh, you don't have any tattoos? Cool!"
I'm indifferent to them either way. What I find most attractive in guys is their body build. That sounds odd. I have nothing against skinny men, but I'm a total sucker for a tall, slightly muscular, stocky, and sturdy type of man. There's justsomething about them that I find incredibly handsome and appealing.
Their muscles don't need to be very defined; they're just a bigger guy, and I'm attracted. I guess I am weird; Most women are attracted to something simple like a man's eyes, and then there's me.
As we get closer, Izzy waves towards Maverick. His eyes dart up, and he flashes a smile as he waves for us to come over and points us out.
