Cassie runs out and hops in your truck before you even turn off the engine.
"Go! Go!" she urges. "The fumes have turned my parents into crazed zombie parents thinking menial labor creates family bonds. I'm trying to fight the effects of the brew's scent, but if I don't get away, who knows what I may start thinking or doing. It could be incessant talking or ..."
Before she can finish, you gun the engine and peel out flattening her into her seat as she buckles up, but you let off immediately to wait at the stop sign and not create an accident. You look at each other and laugh.
It's a great afternoon, and you relax putting aside all thoughts of Frank, Joe, Caleb, Chelsea or any of the mask stuff. Cassie is a fantastic girl, so personable and fun, plus she doesn't chatter all the time. Her conversation is intelligent, though often whimsical, and on lots of subjects including gaming which she mentioned last night. She has quite a different perspective that's insightful especially compared to your blast-away approach. The next time you do some online gaming, you'd really like her on your team. You start to imagine what she'd look like dressed out for warfare or what her online persona's form would be.
"Dreaming again about me, Prescott?" she catches you, turning your complexion crimson.
After a simple lunch, you both stare at the mega-screen movie marquee to see what's playing. There's a new action horror movie you'd like to see, but you figure that's too much for a date. There's the chick flick that's been all the talk at school - great by gals, incredibly stupid and boring per guys. Lisa would demand that. Cassie surprises you, though, suggesting "Lord of the Rings" which makes sense and fitting with her creativity and fantasy writing but also has some good action to keep you happy, happy in that it's a long movie to spend in the dark with a willing girl.
That isn't how it works out, though. Maybe you're too shy to try anything or just naturally gentlemanly. Something in the way she acts grabbing your hand and ducking during some scary scenes and elbowing you to concur with the action scenes just seems so right and comfortable. When you do put your arm around her during a love scene, it's to let her know you care, not to grope down for her chest as you've always pictured what guys do when they get the chance, and what you thought you wanted. The only action you do take is to kiss her, once, brief and tenderly, then you both look back to the screen enjoying each other’s company.
* * * *
"That was wonderful, Will, and the lunch and movie were good, too," Cassie coos as you pull out of the parking lot.
"Yeah, of course that could just be the effects the paint toxins that seeped into your brain," you joke to cover a bit of embarrassment from her compliment and flirt.
"Gee, I hope that isn't why I feel like this," she giggles. "I hope the house doesn't still reek of paint. It really does make me nauseous. And I wish they wouldn't give them names especially fruits. You open a can of "summer blueberry," and it accosts your sinuses with its pungent fragrance challenging and changing your perceptions, although there are some that aren't that bad. I wonder if I could start a 'paint perfume' line bottled and named by color, marketing with brilliant colors to entice the ladies promising to make heads float from the aroma," she smirks. "Taking control of the unsuspecting."
You chuckle, too, and consider keeping her along for the evening. If it wasn't for the family dinner time rapidly approaching, you'd drive back along the river or just ask her to join the family. Then again, why not bring her to dinner? The table will seat eight. Of course, that would mean that you couldn't vie for your cousin's attention and that would leave her entirely with Robert. Maybe it's time for you to grow up and quit fantasizing about your cousin, to move on and away from the ruts and misadventures you've fallen into. Hopefully, your parents won't mind Cassie being there, although it's just suppose to be family. But then, your dad has been so agreeable so far.
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