OUT OF THE RED ↝ dave grohl

fifteen.

SHE ALMOST TURNED around twice. With her fingers coiled around her steering wheel and her foot hovering dubiously over the gas pedal, Reagan questioned if her own stupidity had actually gone and finally turned her brain into mush.

She drove carefully through Olympia's historic district, clicking her tongue anxiously against her teeth and feeling the minutes fly by. She couldn't help but harp on the idea that only a month prior, she would have never believed that she'd be in her current situation.

On a rare day off, Reagan was going to spend it with Dave. The same guy she had promised she would never think of, let alone see, again. Every meticulous promise that she had made to herself while growing up as a young girl had been thrown out the window.

As conflicted as she was, Reagan had determined that it was not necessarily being in Dave's presence that made her nervous. It was more so the fact that she was allowing it to happen. She had never thought this far ahead when it came to intimacy with a guy. Tommy had been the only person she had to be around after having sexual relations, and that had been easy.

Tommy was a goofy guy, the kind of male companion that any girl would have loved to have. Reagan had not felt anything while lying beneath him, his skin on hers in the middle of several different nights. But with Dave, she had. She'd felt unearthly things that she never knew existed outside of fictional worlds.

Maybe you're just an asshole when it comes to men, she thought to herself.

Tommy was a nice guy. To reduce him to the status of a coworker and compare him to Dave felt wrong. But who wouldn't measure up when competing against someone like Dave?

Reagan hissed at herself as she turned a street corner. She had to stop thinking like that — like she already knew Dave and knew the kind of person she was. She had to remind herself that she knew nothing and that he was still just a guy . . . a guy who could physically make her feel amazing.

If her stupidity did not eat her alive, she would keep only that in mind.

Kurt's apartment came into view down Pear Street, a familiar structure to Reagan considering the countless times she had visited. She parked her car down the road, not close to Kurt's front door. She didn't want anyone to be able to look out the window and see her sitting there.

Shutting off the car, Reagan clutched her keys in her lap and looked down. She'd worn blue jeans and in an effort to look decent, one of Kate's lacy lilac tops that apparently 'made her boobs look good.' Reagan winced as she examined the slope of her chest.

She wasn't narcissistic enough to claim that they looked good, but they were surely there to look at.

The sound of a car driving by fixated Reagan's attention back on to why she had ended up on Pear Street in the first place. Dave was inside of Kurt's apartment, waiting to begin the makeshift date that they had both planned.

Reagan huffed through her nostrils. It wasn't a date, as far as she was concerned. A date was what Dave had first suggested. This was just . . . hanging out. Kurt would be there, anyways. It couldn't have really been a date if Kurt was there.

Reagan shrugged into her jacket and got out of her car. She looked both ways down the street before speeding across, concentrating on not slipping on the slick pavement. A morning shower had passed through, making the air simultaneously cold and wet. She pulled her jacket tighter around her.

The steps leading towards Kurt's front door had been a path she'd walked before, but the stroll felt foreign to her now. It was strange to be there not for Kurt, but for someone else whom she did not truly know. As she knocked her knuckles against the door, she stepped back and pulled apart her jacket to take another glance at Kate's shirt.