Gwynn opened his eyes. The cold, damp sheets clung to his skin. He lay in bed trying to calm his ragged breathing, his eyes unfocused on the dark surrounding him. His heart drummed a ferocious staccato against his rib cage.
He woke this way almost every night since regaining consciousness in the hospital nearly ten years ago. The nightmare became so familiar, nights without seemed odd and uncomfortable. Gwynn viewed the dream as evidence he still loved and grieved for his parents. He worried that when the dreams ended for good, it would be the night he no longer cared.
Unknown minutes passed. When the dreams first woke Gwynn, he would stare at the clock, counting the minutes until his breathing normalized— it became a game to see how many times his heart pounded a minute. Almost a decade later, he didn't care about those things. The dream became a part of him. It couldn't hurt him— just be a reminder of the fracture staggering amounts of therapy hadn't fixed.
Nervous energy and jumpy legs convinced him sleep wouldn't come again. Gwynn turned over to see the harsh red digits of his clock. It read four thirty in the morning, Saturday, October 31. Halloween. Most importantly, the day of his first date with Sophia Murray.
He stared at the clock, willing it to move faster. Gwynn had little desire to get out of bed, but lying doing nothing seemed even worse.
He avoided telling Jaimie about the incident in Mr. Baker's class. He didn't want to worry her when he had no idea what was happening. The memory of the girl, her laugh, somewhat familiar, still hovered over him. Was he losing it? Had Sophia's first move snapped his tenuous hold on reality?
"I never thought being a Shakespeare nerd would land you a girl." Jaimie had difficulty containing herself when he told her.
"I think it's more than that." He said the words, but his churning stomach served reminder he doubted it.
"Wow, this may come as a shock, but I was seventeen once. I can almost guarantee you no girl asks a guy out because he's a Shakespeare nerd."
Gwynn started to grumble. But Jaimie's smile and the joy in her eyes stopped him. Jaimie was twenty–four when she took him in. Pressed to describe their relationship, Gwynn would say they were friends more than anything. Without knowing it, Jaimie gave him what he needed. She never tried to replace his mother, but she did keep him in line. She gave Gwynn space, respect, and in turn, he attempted to make her proud.
"So what are the big plans for the night?"
"I, um, don't know. We're meeting at the 7/11 on Williams and then going from there. She said we would be with some of her friends."
Jaimie's eyebrow arched. "Ah, a trial date."
"A what?"
She laughed. "A trial date. You know, when a girl thinks she likes a guy, she invites him to hang out with her and her friends. Because it's not just the two of them, it isn't the same pressure as a formal date, and she can see if the guy fits in with her friends."
"Oh."
"Come on, don't get like that. After all, with that, ah, wit and charm of yours, I'm sure you'll pass the audition successfully."
"Now you're making fun of me."
"No, no. Just remembering what it was like to be a younger girl crushing on a guy. I used to do it all the time. Hell, even if I thought I was in love, I did the trial date. Half the time I did it so my friends would keep me from making a total ass of myself. Anyway, I hope this girl is as special as you think. Cause if she hurts you, she'll have to answer to me."
There were a million things to say, but he kept it to a simple "Thanks."
Now the day had arrived, and his stomach twisted in an increasing tangle of knots. Agonizing hours passed. How many times could he wash or change clothes in a single day? No matter how many showers he took, no matter how many outfits he tried, nothing ever seemed right. Even his skin conspired to be awkward and uncomfortable. He would catch Jaimie out of the corner of his eye watching. Much to his surprise, she said nothing, but he saw the odd devious smile.
It seemed several days had passed when six thirty in the evening arrived. Gwynn dressed in black jeans and a gray sweater.
He checked the brown mess he called hair. Despite his best attempts, it remained defiantly unkempt.
"On your way?" Jaimie came down the hall.
"I think so. No jokes, how do I look?"
"Very handsome. If I was fifteen years younger, and we weren't related, I'd date you."
"Kinda creepy." He smiled. "But, thanks."
"Go on, Romeo. Don't keep the girl waiting. If you're late, that'll be a strike against you right from the start."
"Okay. See you later."
"Sure. Be safe and have fun."
Gwynn bounced out the door. His heart raced, and his stomach lurched back and forth. He gave a giddy laugh. Lord, he needed to get this out of his system before meeting Sophia. Scared, excited, his body couldn't seem to decide.
The 7/11 was around the corner. Before entering the store, Gwynn gave himself a final check— didn't want any zippers to be left down. In doing this, he realized he was missing his cell phone. Jaimie got it for him two years ago. He carried it out of habit. He shrugged. No loss. The only person who ever called him was Jaimie, and he hoped she would have the good sense not to call him tonight, of all nights.
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