Please let it be a date.

His comment about not expecting to find a friend echoes in my head. I can’t glam up too much or it’ll look like I’m trying too hard. Plus, I’ll probably burn my hair off if I try to use my aunt’s flat iron without supervision. In the end, I settle for jeans, a lacy sweater, and a T-shirt with sparkles on it, then it’s time to decide what to do with my hair. The usual ponytail doesn’t seem like a solution, so I brush it out and then aim the blow dryer at it for a few seconds. It’s a little fluffy but not too big. I tame it with a squirt of product from Aunt Gabby’s stash. She won’t mind if I borrow some earrings to go with my silver key necklace, so I dig into her jewelry box and find some hoops.

That leaves makeup. I don’t do foundation because to cover my freckles, I have to use too much and it looks caked on. Which leaves me with eyes and lips; I’m pretty good at those, though I don’t bother for every day. Five minutes later, there’s a knock. I scrub sweaty palms against my thighs as I move to answer, swinging the door wide to find Shane waiting. He looks as nervous as I feel; that makes things easier.

“Wow. You look beautiful. Not that you don’t always.” He’s about to stammer something else, and I feel like kissing him.

I don’t, obviously. That would take way more swagger than I possess.

He’s wearing the usual boots and jeans, but he traded his T-shirt for a blue button up and he has on a black jacket instead of the army one. It’s big on him, which makes me think it might be his dad’s. But he made the effort, and I can’t help thinking this means tonight counts as a date.

“Thanks. Ready to go?” I ask.

“Yeah. I hope you don’t mind walking. My limo’s in the shop.”

I smile at that. “I wouldn’t get in it, even if it was out front.”

Shane tilts his head, looking surprised. “Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you in a vehicle of any kind.”

Glad of this conversational opener, I explain my stance on the decadence of private cars burning fossil fuels. Cars also have pretty awful associations for me; my dad died in one. They took me away in one to foster care. When I was with my mom, I never rode in one, but afterward … well. That kind of stuff is too dark for a first date. Fortunately, Shane seems interested in the constructive reasons behind my boycott. This discussion carries us halfway downtown, mostly because he asks smart questions about how I cope in a small town with limited options for public transportation.

“It’s not easy,” I admit. “But I can ride my bike most places, and if I can’t, then I just don’t go. My aunt and I have taken the train to the city a few times, though.” I add the last part so he doesn’t think I advocate traveling by wagon.

“I admire your dedication,” Shane says, smiling.

My weirdness probably also takes the pressure off him to have a car. Since he knows I don’t want any part of that, he can’t imagine the date would go better if he had a sweet ride. A few minutes later, he takes my hand in a casual gesture. Did he think about it at all or reach for me instinctively?

At night, the Capitol looks cool with the white bulbs surrounding the marquee. Darkness softens the dilapidated lines, lending the old building a certain grace. Ryan and I came here occasionally when there was a show we wanted to see, so I’m used to half the town turning out to buy tickets. Tonight, according to the misspelled title on the sign, there’s a horror movie playing. I have no desire to see it, but I do want to sit in the dark with Shane. Somewhere in front, Ryan’s laugh rings out. I stretch up on my tiptoes and spy Gwen, Kenny, and Tara, along with my former best friend; I can’t tell if they’re on a double date, but I smother a laugh. At least it’s legal for Ryan to date Gwen. Given Tara’s general indifference to Kenny’s interest, I figure they’re just all hanging out. Shane’s brows draw together, probably wondering why I’m laughing, then he spots the group ahead of us.

“They’re funny for some reason?” he asks.

“It’s just ironic to see Ryan here when I’m trying to avoid him. But it’s a small town.” I shrug, wishing I could explain fully.

Shane nods, like this makes perfect sense. But if he can accept my other off-kilter ideas and my refusal to ride in a car, he likely thinks this is just a postscript to strangeness. We move up as the cashier processes others ahead, then it’s our turn at the window.

“Two, please.” He speaks for both of us before I can even touch my wallet.

“Eight dollars.”

Shane passes the girl a crumpled bill and she gives him back some change. So I murmur my thanks as we pass through the gilded doors into the faded luxury of the lobby. I nearly bump into Gwen, who doesn’t register anything odd about the fact that she’s with Ryan and I’m not.

She beams a Colgate smile. “I didn’t know you guys were coming. You want to find some seats while we get the junk food? We can settle up inside.”

Ha, this could be awkward. I’m not having my first date with Shane while Ryan looks on from three seats over.

“Thanks for the offer,” Shane says, surprising me, “but we’re fine.”

Since Gwen tends to boss people around, she likely gets that response a lot, so she just smiles and waves. Ryan watches us walk away, and I’d be lying if I said I’m not happy that Shane’s still holding my hand. The theater is already half full as we step into the aisle. He glances up and down before leading me to the left side of the theater. These rows are short—only four seats—compared to the ones in the center and we sit in the middle two seats, which should make it awkward for anyone to join us.

“Do you want popcorn or anything?” Shane asks, as we sit down.

I shake my head. “We can have a snack at my house after the movie.”

There’s no way my aunt will be home before eleven, and it’ll be more like ten for us, even with the walk. That gives us some time alone, which makes me nervous and excited at the same time. With some guys, I’d worry about the message I’m sending, inviting him back to my house with nobody else around, but Shane won’t pounce on me like a leopard. I’ve already been alone with him at his place, and he only touched me when I hugged him.

“Is that the plan?”

“If you want,” I add, hoping I haven’t assumed too much.

“Sounds good.”

He’s still holding my hand, and I’m aware of how much longer his fingers are than mine, slender and graceful; he has a musician’s hands, with calluses that aren’t just from playing guitar. He has those, too, but his palms are hard as well. I feel like fidgeting in my seat, but since he’s calm, I pretend I am, too. I wonder if he has any idea how new all of this is to me. His comment about needing a friend echoes in my head. Still, a guy doesn’t act like this with a girl unless he’s dating her. Right? I study him out of the corner of my eye, trying to decide.

The previews start before I get too nervous, giving us something to look at besides each other. There’s the usual product placement and trailers for flicks not yet released. Eventually the scary stuff starts, and I remember why I hate this kind of movie. I’m really susceptible, so I’m always the first one to jump or scream, but it’s not all bad because halfway through the movie, Shane puts his arm around me and his thigh bumps against mine. My heart’s not racing from the creepy noises anymore.

Forty-five minutes later, it turns out the nerdy guy was the killer, which surprises no one, but I have the shivers as we file out with the rest of the audience. I can stand monster movies better because they aren’t real, but you never know when an actual psycho could be lurking in the bushes.

“What did you think?” Shane asks. “Worth the price of admission?”

“I was confused as to who was doing it until I realized that Reggie knew too much about the crime scenes. Overall it wasn’t bad.”