Page 51 of Perfect Date
Suddenly, the air seems to thicken around us, he shifts and part of his body presses into mine. His eyes stare into my own, and I feel like he’s silently seeking permission.
I do nothing but stare into his eyes, and while I watch, his lips descend on mine.
My eyes close. His lips are soft at first, then firm. He angles his head to the side, and my lips part which he takes as invitation. His tongue softly glides against my own, and he kisses me wonderfully, perfectly, and I feel like I’m dreaming.
My arms wrap around his body, and I pull him closer to me. His hands clutch my face, and the kiss suddenly becomes more urgent before it suddenly ends.
I make a noise in protest when he pulls away, and he smirks.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since the first time I saw you.”
“You don’t have to say that,” I tell him suddenly remembering the truth. This isn’t even really real “I didn’t forget that we’re just fake dating, right?” I tell him with a roll of my eyes, I don’t really mean. I’m just trying to feign a nonchalance I don’t feel.
“I did forget and there was nothing about that kiss that was fake,” he tells me firmly, and I’m stunned speechless.
Not knowing what to say, I blurt the first thing that comes to mind, “I need to go pee.”
He laughs. Hard. “Okay, the bathrooms are right up there,” he points at a brick building.
“Okay, I’ll be back.”
“I’ll be here,” he smiles and I instantly feel heat rush over my body. How does he keep doing that to me? The man has skills.
Walking up the slight hill, I see some kids speeding around on a quad, a family trying to fly a kite in the wind, and a few girls sunbathing in their swimsuits. It seems that many people have come out to enjoy the weather today.
When I reach the building, I see that the entrance is taped off with caution tape prohibiting entrance inside stating it’s under construction.
Looking around, it’s then I see the port-a-potties in a row for people to use.
I shudder.
I hate those things.
They smell, they’re gross, they’re not very sanitary.
Forging ahead, just wanting to get it over with, I pick the one on the end and lock myself inside.
The disgusting smell assaults me as soon as I step inside. I’m grateful to see they have toilet seat covers and I grab one and place it on the seat carefully, quickly doing my business trying to hold my breath the whole time.
Once I’m done, I’m fastening my shorts and then using the hand sanitizer I’m so thankful is inside, when I hear a loud noise.
I’ve barely had time to think much of it, when suddenly, there’s an explosion.
I’m tossed to the side of the potty, so hard, I bounce before settling against the hard plastic.
Fluid saturates me from head to toe, and I realize that I’m actually lying on the ground, because the port-a-potty is sideways.
I’m lying in complete filth. In waste. Sewage. In the dark with only a slice of light coming in above my head.
“Oh my god!” I yell. “Help!” I yell again, confusion, increasingly bad odor, and complete disgust causing hysteria to bubble up inside of me. “HELP!”
Somehow, I manage to realize that when this stupid thing toppled over, it rolled in a way that the door is facing the bottom, so there’s no way for me to push it open and climb out. I place my arms above my head to see if the vents would pop out and create a space for me to escape, but to no avail.
I’m stuck inside.
“HELP!” I yell again louder as panic begins to overtake me. Any bit of calm or reason has now evaporated.
“Charlie?” I hear Justin yell my name and I’m not going to lie; I want to die. I know I’m virtually fine, just knocked around a bit, but this has to be the single most embarrassing and disgusting thing that has ever happened in my life.
