Marked

Chapter Twenty-Three

I took a long sip of my coffee the next morning, finishing it. Chase was absentmindedly flipping through the TV channels. He turned off the TV and looked up at me. "Why did you call Dallas last night?"

I tried to give Chase a dumb look. "What are you talking about?"

"You called Dallas really late last night and you were yelling at him about something. I just want to know what you were yelling at him about and why you had to call him then and not in the morning."

"Oh... That..." I took a deep breath and told him what happened last night. Keeping out the part about why I was awake in the middle of the night.

"Scar you better be telling me the truth," Chase blue eyes burned on my soul.

"I swear. The truth."

Chase nodded, almost believing. "So, I was looking at the calendar, and I realized... last night was our two month-aversery. Then I realized, we did nothing to celebrate..."

"So what, you want to celebrate tonight?"

Chase nodded. "More or less," A smile inched across his face.

"So... more of what we did Wednesday night...?" I smiled.

"It's likely..." He kissed me and I felt my heart leap. "But, before that, I'm taking you on a date."

I smiled. "A date? That's risky. With all the places my mom has made me terrified of... Prisons... theme parks... hospitals... my own home..."

"Is a record shop out of limits?"

"Hmm," I "thought" for a second, already knowing a record shop would be fine. "I think a record shop is okay. I'm willing to take that risk though. Question, what would we do with records? You don't have a record player... do you?"

He smiled, almost sheepish. "I guess I don't. They'll have a player there—at the shop, I mean. We can listen to records there."

The record shop smelled old and musty. It reminded me of a book store, only with music. I walked through the wide isles looking for my genre of music: Alternative and Punk. I came up to some modern Punk bands—who I hate. I'm stuck in the past when it comes to punk music. I really like bands like Blink-182 or Green Day. I picked up an American Idiot album. "Hey Chase,"

"Yeah?"

"Tell the record guy to play..." I looked over the songs on the album. "'Are We the Waiting'." I handed the record to Chase. Chase went up to one of the employees and handed the album to him. The employee went to the back and within seconds the steady beginning of 'Are We the Waiting' rang out. I smiled, bobbing my head to the music.

"Green Day, huh?"

I nodded. "I love them."

"What do you think of Billie Joel Armstrong? He cute?"

I rolled my eyes. "He's like, forty."

"Starry nights, city lights, coming down over me," I sang along with the record as I kept flipping through records.

"And screaming!" Chase chimed in.

"Are we, we are! Are we, we are the waiting!" I held up my phone, using it as a "lighter."

Chase kissed me. "Let's get out of here." I smiled and kissed him again.

"Phase two," Chase said, stepping out of his car. "Dinner."

I looked up at the neon light sign. "A pub? Is that really... what's the word I'm trying to say... appropriate? I mean, this is a date, not a night out with the guys."