]Memo:So I never thought I would get to a part three. So I guess I will be writing a whole lot more on this.
Clothes exploded out of Bridget's closet. Her date with Andrew was exactly two hours away, and she still needed to shower. Andrew called earlier that day, which surprised her since she was fully expecting a text. However, it was a pleasant surprise. Ever since his call, she had been rummaging through her closet searching for anything that looked decent. She tried on different sorts of dresses, tops, and millions of pants. Her small, narrow mirror showed Bridget everything but what she wanted to see. Frustrated, Bridget plopped down on he lumpy twin bed in her underwear, surrendering to her closet.
Suddenly Bridget remembered something: She had a white top that was hanging in the laundry room that was perfect for the date. Bridget ran to go get it as quickly as she could without her mother seeing her in her skivvies. The top was bleach white with no sleeves and a low scoop for the arms. The neckline was tastefully low, enough allure anyone who cared, or Andrew. It had small braided detailing along the neckline. Bridget paired it with a pair of destroyed jeans, and white flip flops.
After her shower Bridget was dressed, and forcing her stubborn hair to form into waves in the dully lit bathroom. She didn't put as much make-up on as she should since she figured the humidity outside would make it run anyway. Finally it was 7:30 PM, the scheduled time for Andrew to pick her up, and Bridget waited in the kitchen. "You nervous?" Bridget's mother appeared in the kitchen.
Bridget was an only child in a single parent home. Thankfully, her mother was well educated in medical office procedures so Bridget didn't have to experience living in the Mexican ghettos in the city, or off of state charities. Her mother was tanned with dark brown hair, Bridget was a spitting image of her. But Bridget had lighter hair and more freckles that were dark pigmented, and spread out along her body.
"Yeah, I guess so," said Bridget as her stomach flipped over. Then a car pulled into the driveway and Bridget took in a deep breath.
"You'll be fine," her mother smiled as she retreated to her bedroom.
Andrew knocked on the door and Bridget took her time answering. She didn't want to seem like she was overly excited, even though she was. She opened the door to discover him standing there in dark jeans, his work boots, and a blue button up shirt. He held yellow daffodils in his hand, and Bridget's heart melted when he handed them to her without a word. "You look really pretty," mumbled Andrew. He was shy and felt as if he didn't deserve to be standing in front of her.
"Thanks, you look nice too. So... shall we go?"
Andrew opened the car door for her, and she hopped into his old green ford pick up. The truck smelled used, and sort of dusty. However, the truck was the least of Bridget's worries. She clutched onto the daffodils, praying she wouldn't say anything stupid.
They arrived at a local steakhouse, and sat near a window. The restaurant was loud, but the noise made the couple less awkward. Andrew looked at her while she was scanning the menu. He wanted to kiss her, and didn't want to miss a single inch of her body. She looked young, but mature all at the same time. Andrew had to bite the inside of his mouth to prevent himself from throwing himself at her.
Andrew asked her many questions and discovered that she loved chocolate, and despised baseball. He asked her about how she viewed the world and discovered that she was a Christian, but had no problem with abortion or gay rights. She seemed different from the rest, she believed one thing, but it totally contradicted her beliefs by adding her own views. He was completely fascinated by her.
"Well, I'm not a Christian. My parents are actually atheists. So is your life like, different in any way?" Andrew asked.
"Um, God just plays a larger part in my life than it does yours. Like, I believe in abstinence, and you probably don't," she explained. Andrew's stomach dropped to his lower intestine. He had to digest her last statement. She was abstinent, no sex until marriage, never before had a girl ever not wanted sex until marriage. Usually at that age they couldn't contain their hormones. Andrew knew that he usually would be turned off, but Bridget was exactly what he envisioned as a perfect girlfriend. He decided that he gained more respect for her, and didn't want to force her into anything. Now he was the one being unnatural.
"Oh, that's cool. I'll respect that." Andrew smiled, and Bridget was relieved for she was used to boys telling her that her beliefs were wrong.
The noise in the restaurant continued to escalate as they ordered a milk shake for desert. "So, is there anything else I need to know about you?" Bridget inquired.
Andrew leaned back, debating on whether he should expose anything else about himself. He decided that he was comfortable with her, and he didn't think she would judge him. At least he hoped. "I guess you should know that I've been to prison a couple times. Once for possession, and another for drunk driving." Andrew prayed that she wouldn't get up and leave him in the restaurant. He watched her intensely as she set down her milkshake on the wooden table.
"Oh wow. So I take it you don't do that stuff anymore?"
"Nope, I've stopped," answered Andrew.
"Well, we all have skeletons in our closet." Andrew felt relieved that she accepted it without difficulty.
Andrew walked her up to her front door after driving her home from the restaurant. His hands felt sweaty and his legs felt wobbly like a new born calf. It was a strange feeling for him, usually he was extremely confident around women. Except this one was different. "Thanks for everything," said Bridget. She smiled up at him. His blonde curly hair glowed from the porch light, as he created a shadow over her since he was a foot and a half taller. Without thinking Andrew leaned down and pecked her on the lips.
"Goodnight," he said.
