Felix's pov
Why has no one ever considered establishing a school to teach kids basic manners only?
It's important. People normally guess that they are supposed to learn these from family. But what if the kids are orphans and they grow up in a really shitty environment where basic needs like food and clothes are hard to get? How would they get to learn basic manners then when their basic necessities are in threat?
Well, I think the question has its answer. When basic necessities are under threat, they find no need to go to school to learn manners. But then again if it becomes normal like going to school then they won't skip it. Or maybe the school can just teach us these, maybe teach a whole new subject called "Basic Manners for kids" or something like that.
But no, they won't do it. And then we expect them to have manners. Yeah, really, how is that gonna work?
Like I'm expecting manners from this girl in front of me right now. With whom I somehow ended up on a date.
She is not really an orphan as far as I know. She has a family where she grew up, a pretty decent family if I remember correctly. And still, she's lacking some really basic manners, not even the manners you need to follow on a date.
Like the basic manner where you don't gossip with strangers about your best friend's cheating ex-boyfriend.
".....then Sara walked on them, both naked and fucking like animals."
I choke on the soda I am drinking and stare at her in disbelief. She leans forward excitedly, misunderstanding my disgusted shock to interest in her story. That results in exposing her breasts more than they already were. I cough again.
Another lack of manners: Wear a little more decent clothes on a blind date. You don't know how the other person is.
Maybe it doesn’t count as a manner exactly but it's surely making me uncomfortable.
Also, these are manners of a date and it would be highly inappropriate for me to expect this from her when she doesn’t have the basic ones.
"Hey, you alright?" Her hand slides softly on my thigh under the table and starts squeezing. I resist the urge to cough again.
"Yeah.... No, actually, I need to use the washroom. Be right back." I almost jump away from her and start heading towards the washroom.
It's Friday night. The restaurant is packed. The music that is playing is already louder than normal, to give people in one booth privacy from the other. Yet you can hear noises over the music, people talking loudly and plates and spoons clattering. It's pretty chaotic.
Surprisingly, the washroom is not as packed as the restaurant. It's technically empty when I get in here.
I walk to the sink and stand in front of it. There is a big mirror behind the sink. A man in his late-twenties in a blue button-up shirt and black pants is staring back at me through the mirror. His highlighted golden-brown hair is brushed back neatly. The light shade of his pupils is appearing darker under the dim lights of the washroom. But that doesn't hide the uneasiness in him. Even in this soft light, it's pretty clear how awkward he is tonight.
I sigh, running a hand over my face. Is my awkwardness really that much visible? Or does it only seem visible to me because I'm feeling it?
I open the wrist button of the sleeves and start folding them. When they reach beneath my elbow, I stop. Then I look back at the mirror.
Does it change my look somehow? I think I'm looking less stressed now.
Placing my hands on the counter, I lean forward, keeping my eyes on the mirror. Do I look intimidating?
Eh, my hair is not going with the look. Should I mess them up?
I think for a second before giving in to my intrusive thoughts. Running both hands through those brushed strands, I ruffle them a few times. When they are fully messed up, I stop.
Again, I lean against the counter. How about now?
I'm looking better, for sure. Hotter, in fact. But still, something seems missing.
I look down at my chest. Maybe if I open one upper button or two-
The door of the washroom swings open and an elderly man walks in. He pauses when he sees me over the counter, one hand on the countertop and another on my shirt buttons. He studies me for one good minute and then looks away sighing. He mutters something inaudible under his breath, which sounds like "this generation" before walking into one of the stalls and shutting the door.
After he shuts the door, I finally let myself cringe. I cringe so hard. What the fuck was I doing, man? Seducing myself? And then I got caught by a stranger seducing myself?
Well, I know I wasn't seducing myself. I just wanted to look better. But he surely thought I was doing that. I run a hand over my face. Gosh, that's so embarrassing.
I probably will have drowned in my own embarrassment if not my phone starts ringing at the right time. I pull the phone out of my pocket to check who is my savior.
Ryker. My best friend and younger brother.
I slide to the green side of the bar and bring the phone to my ear.
"Yo, whassup? How's the date going? How is she? Are you enjoying it? Are you gonna ba-"
His voice gets cut off as my ears suddenly start ringing. Oh, fuck! I forgot I was on a date!
"Yeah, well, it's going good. Will call you later."
I cut the call off and shove the phone back into my pocket. Gosh, how did I forget I was on a date?
I was the one seconds ago complaining about my date's manners and here I'm in the washroom, seducing myself, completely forgetting about the date. Now, where are my manners?
I sigh again. I need to get back. The thought of going back to that shitty date makes me want to stay here for the rest of my life. But of course, I can't do that. My eyes go back to my phone. Should I just call back Ryker and tell him that the date is going horribly wrong and ask him to pick me up?
No, I can't definitely do that either. I can already see his reaction and hear what he is gonna say. He is gonna humiliate me for the rest of my life for this.
I have to figure a way out of this date myself.
My eyes go back to the mirror again. I'm definitely looking better than before. Heck, I'm actually looking how I wanted to look. Mature and intimidating. Cool and calm.
But if I go back to her looking like this, we'll probably end up in bed tonight. And that's the last thing I want.
She's not really my type but I'm too polite to tell that to her face. There is a backdoor of the restaurant which can lead me out of here without having to go back to her but that would be a highly mannerless and rude behavior. My mom taught me better than this.
I sigh again. How to get out of here without being rude or make myself an idiot?
I look back in the mirror. I can at least take a picture like this and can post it on insta if it turns out good. It feels like I haven't posted there in ages.
Taking out my phone, I take three or four pictures. Meanwhile, the guy emerges out of the stall and finds me taking pictures. Shaking his head, he walks out of the washroom. I roll my eyes.
Yeah, our generation sucks. You don't need to act like yours were the best.
Within the next few minutes, I try to return to my old self, the one which walked into the washroom before he started to make himself look sexy. I roll down my sleeves and close all the buttons. Then I push back my hair using my hands. It doesn't turn out that neatly in place but it's closer to that one. Well, that's the best I can do without a comb and some gel.
Satisfied (not really), I take a deep breath before leaving the washroom. I haven't yet figured out how to get out of this date but I hope I will soon.
"Sorry, it took me a while," I mutter with a forced smile sliding back into the booth. Leila, my date, keeps her phone down and looks up at me with narrowed eyes.
"You sure did take a while," she says shrugging. She leans towards me, and the smell of her expensive perfume hits my nostrils. Staring at me through her lashes, she whispers, "You could take me there with you if you were taking that long in there."
I resist the urge to sigh. I don't even know what to say to that. I glance around the restaurant once. Not that it will give me a response for Leila's weird flirting but because I don't know why but since I left the washroom, I'm having a weird feeling that someone is looking at me. I've never felt it before. And the feeling is so strong that it's making me quite uneasy.
"Hey, don't ignore me!" I cringe at her whiny voice. God, this woman! How long do I need to endure her? I need to come up with some polite way to get out of here before I end up doing something harsh.
"I'm not ignoring you," I reply, looking back at her. She is closer to me than before. Now that I notice, she has a pair of nice eyes and the makeup on her eyes really suits her.
I sigh. She's not actually looking bad. In fact, she's looking really pretty. If only she had a more decent behavior, the date would have actually worked out really nice.
"Then what were you doing?" she demands, crossing her arms over her chest which causes the dress to ride down and reveal her breasts a little bit more again. My eyes move there down involuntarily, of course.
"I was just thinking." I tear my eyes from her breasts and look around the restaurant again. Am I seriously imagining this? How can someone feel that a person is looking at them?
I am about to look back at Leila when I finally find the person. I guess that's the one whose eyes are disturbing me like this.
A woman that's sitting in a booth a few feet away from ours. She's with a group of people whom I cannot see because........ well, because her presence is so powerful that it technically outshines others. A black silk scarf is wrapped around her head. She's wearing a white oversized shirt and black pants. She's looking modest and kind of intimidating. The group with whom she's sitting is being loud but she's not paying any attention to them. She's just silently sitting there and observing us like a predator.
Who is she? Do I know her?
"You were thinking what?"
"That girl."
"What?"
The snap of Leila's voice pulls my attention back to her. I start understanding what I have said when I see the look on her face. She is frowning at me. "You're on a date with one girl and you're thinking about another girl?"
I shake my head in disappointment. That was really rude of me. I shouldn't ignore my date like this no matter what.
Clearing my throat, I said, "You didn't hear the rest of my words."
Crossing her hands over her chest, she challenges, "And that is?"
I flash a smile and lean forward. Her frown fades a little when she sees the look in my eyes. I drop my voice lower, which I hope is sensational. "I was thinking about that girl who stole my breath away on our very first meeting."
I'm gonna regret it. I'm gonna regret it. I'm so gonna regret it.
I am supposed to get out of this date, not seduce her!
"And?" Her voice turns lower too. She leans towards mine, a little too close, with her breath hitting the side of my face and neck.
Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it.
"And that it was so nice meeting her." I move a little away from her which is not noticeable that much, I believe.
"Aw, so that girl is me, right?" she asks, blinking, her long lashes, which I'm sure are not real, batting with the movement. I try not to cringe.
"Yup, that's you," I confirm, looking away from her, my eyes involuntarily searching for that modest girl. I find her but she's not looking at us this time. Rather she's looking down, talking to someone on her phone.
"Okay, that was so sweet." Before I can process it, I feel a soft sensation on my cheek. I look back at Leila with wide eyes. She grins.
Did she just kiss me on the cheek? Really?
Yes, she did. The smile on her face confirms that. I wince visibly, this time resisting the urge to wipe my cheek. Did she leave a lipstick mark? I wince again.
"Now, you can pay the bill so we can get out of here and go somewhere private," she says, moving away from me a little, her eyes still on me. "Where should we head next? Your place or mine?"
She wiggles her eyebrows. I blink at her twice.
Is she serious right now? We are on our first date only and haven't done anything at all. Not that I'm planning to. Now she's offering to go to one of our houses? And then what? Fuck each other till morning?
Not to mention she practically ordered me to pay the bill. Not that I will mind paying the bill but that's not the point. The point is who does she thinks she is?
I'm brought back to reality when I start feeling her hand on my chest. It starts creeping up toward my neck. Her soft whisper reaches my ear, "Let's go to my place. I'll show you something. Something you have never seen before. Something you'll never forget in your lifetime."
I grab her hand and move it away from my body. Then I move myself a little away from her. Clearing my throat, I said, "Actually I can't."
Rude! Rude! Rude!
She narrows her eyes instantly and opens her mouth to say something. But before the words get out of her mouth, someone else interrupts her, "Hey, Leila."
Both of us turn our heads to look at the person and I almost choke on air. That's the very same woman that was observing us from the other booth. And it's not only just that.
Seeing her up close, now I realize that I actually know her. She's none other than my brother's ex-girlfriend.
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