The Blind Date Agreement

Eight (part 2)

I'm too late. At the last second Chad motions me forward, then pushes open the door, and surprise surprise, the sign wasn't lying. The alarm actually goes off, and it's deafeningly loud, screeching and flashing and making sure not a single person isn't looking here. Chad's disappeared outside, and I'm standing beside the door with a guilty expression on my face, and everyone's staring at me like I've done something heinous. Everyone keeps telling me to let loose, but skipping out on a $282.59 bill is not something I'm willing to do.

"Is there a problem here?" Our waitress asks me, flanked by two security guards. Security guards! They know something is up, and their menacing expressions mean business. "Should we call the police?"

I gulp and shake my head slowly, sinking back down. "No, no! No problem!"

"The emergency door is for emergencies only," the guard says, and the alarm finally turns off. My relief is immediate and premature, since I'm still in a lot of trouble here.

"I'm sorry. The guy I was with had an emergency. He...he uh...pooped his pants! Yes. And it was our first date, so I think he got embarrassed and fled. I'm very sorry for the disturbance."

The three of them eye me, then the empty little black bill book sitting blatantly obvious against the stark white table cloth.

"Uh-huh," the waitress says, not convinced. "I'll be right over to collect payment. Cash or card?"

I squeak. Like literally, audibly squeak, which doesn't win me any points with the three of them. "Um, card?"

She nods once and leaves. Security backs away too, but they don't go far.

Shit. Shit shit SHIT. Stupid effing Chad and his stupid effing face and his stupid effing EXISTENCE.

I don't have that kind of money, especially not on me. I didn't bring a credit card, and I only have $120 in cash on me. I never even thought I'd need to spend it all, I had it 'just in case'. Clearly that was not enough 'just in case' money, because now I'm majorly and royally and all other kinds of screwed.

I can call Kalani and ask her to come with her credit card—it is her fault I'm in this position—but she's at a movie and probably won't answer her phone. Emi doesn't have a job and gets money by asking her dad, so I don't even know if she'd have that amount together in the time I need, plus I don't want to put her in that position for me. I'm going to have to call my parents. God, they're going to kill me. For lying to them, for going on a date with a morally questionable drug dealer, and for getting myself into this predicament.

Internally, I'm screaming and punching the table and kicking Chad in the balls. Externally, I'm calmly sitting at the table, looking through my purse as if money will magically appear the longer I'm staring in it.

"Problem?"

Tensing, I look up and meet Jay's dark eyes. Behind him, his friends are standing from their seats and putting on their jackets.

"Nope," I say, but it comes out too high pitched and squeaky.

He's not convinced. "Uh-huh. So, what was that whole thing with your date running out the emergency door? Because from where we were sitting, it sure looked like he ski—"

"He skipped out on the bill!" I erupt, the stress not letting me stick to my 'everything is fine,' ruse, and there's something about Jay that always forces me to tell him the truth, no matter how terrible. "Chad ordered a shit-ton of food and said everything was 'on him', then skipped out on the bill, and now I'm stuck paying two-hundred, eighty-two dollars and fifty-nine cents, plus tip, and I only have a hundred and twenty dollars to my name right now, and I lied to my parents about where I am tonight and I can't call my friends for various reasons and I'm probably going to jail." It all comes out in one breath, and even though I feel better saying it out loud, I'm not any closer to figuring out what to do.