Chapter 9 First Date

My Sunday is practically spent at home. I call my mom, talk to my dad and my brother. My mom says business is going well and that this summer they will finally be able to change cars. My family is not wealthy, but we live comfortably enough.

I've never been able to overdo any excessive shopping sprees at the mall, but I could always have what I needed.

I go to update my social networks. Now that I'm online, I'll use it to distract myself from thinking about Hunter, hoping to get him off my mind.

I first check my Facebook account. Everything ok, photos and comments, excellent. I use my cellphone to open up my Instagram. Same as usual, the usual people. Wow, some people are really living it up with their fancy vacations. One of my friends even got engaged, wow! I decide to close the digital box because it's now getting depressing.

With not much else to do, I head to the park. It is a super-hot day, and I don't want to be holed up in an apartment, especially since I'm in Barcelona. I spread a towel under a tree and lay down. And just then, my cellphone rings. I don't recognize the number but I see it's a local call. I answer in Spanish.

"Hi, it's me, how are you?"

Oh, that familiar voice. My heart almost jumps into my mouth. How does he have my number? Oh sure, my "girlfriends".

I gather all the confidence I have and reply casually. "Oh, hi Hunter, it's you. I'm great, and you?"

"All right. What are you doing?" he asks in sort of a demanding tone.

"I'm in the park, relaxing a little and refreshing myself. What about you and your girlfriend?" I feel that I needed to ask that question.

"You know I don't have a girlfriend. Well, not yet."

I am taken aback a bit as I didn't expect this answer. He then pauses before continuing, "Would you like to have dinner with me today?" He sounds nervous.

Wow, he is actually asking me out on a date.

A DATE!

With Hunter!

I couldn't process the idea.

"Okay, but what about the redhead? What does she think about it?" Great question, Selena, I think, mentally patting myself on my back. I pretty much am acting like a jealous girlfriend already but my mouth seemed to have a mind of its own.

"She's not my girlfriend, and if it's because you read something on the internet, you shouldn't trust them. So, if you want to like to go ahead and dine with me, you should know the truth," he replies very cockishly. Good answer, Mr. Smarty-pants. But I actually like what he said, how he cleared the air!

"Okay, let's have dinner together in that case," I reply, being equally cockish. Two can play this game for now. I think it would be nice and I do need some answers.

"Pick you up at your house at twenty o'clock sharp," he says Looks like he is one of those punctual types who do not like to be waited upon.

"Do I need to wear something social?" I ask nervously.

"No, it will be just the two of us," he explains.

With him talking like that in that deep baritone, I almost have a heart attack. Hmm dinner... alone. Even so, I don't feel confident. I get up and go quickly to the apartment to start my beauty routine.

I take my shower, trying to shake off my nerves. I don't understand why he affects me so much. As I choose my clothes, I realize I don't have many choices to choose from. That's because it never crossed my mind that I might go out with a famous handsome player.

I opt for a basic black dress. It is fairly modest and has a frilly trim. I pair it with high heels. It is almost time for the appointment, or rather a date, and I am ready, looking forward to his arrival.

It is precisely 8 p.m. when the doorbell rings. I leave the bedroom in a hurry to answer the door, but of course, my 'helpful' friends are already there waiting for me.

"Have a great night, Selena," Katrina says, enjoying the anxiety on my face for the first time.

"Thank you– Ha!" I brush it off by smiling back haughtily. Who laughs last laughs best.

As I open the door. There he stands in front of me. I notice his mouth is slightly open as he gasps and says, "Wow, you look absolutely beautiful." This time his voice is soft and his eyes are roving all over me as though he is trying to analyse something.

"You're not looking too bad either, Mister," I tell him, laughing. Of course, he isn't all dressed up. I had always seen him in a tux at well-known, red-carpet events where he is always accompanied by a new stunning model wrapped around his arm.

I analyse him myself, thinking, don't discriminate against a nice shirt. He has not dressed for gossip magazines and blogs today. He is dressed in a white linen dress shirt and formal jeans. Gorgeous to die for.

We walk to the elevator in silence.

"Where are we going?" I ask him. I am inquisitive to see what he has planned for the day!

He turns around and replies, "You need to be patient now, Doll."

He opens the door for me like a thorough gentleman. I get in and he enters from the other door. As he drives the powerful engine, I expect us to arrive at a restaurant, as he had mentioned dinner somewhere in his attempt when asking me out earlier today. On our way, he asks me about my parents, my age, where I live, and what I want to do after college. But I'm not left talking all about myself as he discusses his life without any prompt from my end.

He tells me he almost screwed himself in high school because of his career. He talks with such passion about football I also realize how important it is in his life. It looks like he fought a lot for it. It got me thinking. First impressions might not be the final impressions. The media seemed to blow character traits of people out of the water. He was confident yes, but not overtly arrogant, at least when it came to football.