Chapter 6 (Yvette)

The girls get ready for their first proper date, where Yvette finally gets a chance to open up about herself.

It took everything within me to suppress my squeals after Justine left. I waited just a bit before hurrying up to the guest room I'd been staying in, taking a moment to release my pent-up screams into my pillow and then lay back, catching my breath as an uncontrollable look of euphoria scrawled itself on my face. For me, this moment was everything. I was about to go out on my first proper date, and with someone who tickled my fancy no less! Sure, it didn't mark much progress in my personal journey, given it was Justine who came up with the idea and not me, but as far as I was concerned, there would always be next time.

After recomposing myself, I rummaged through the complimentary walk-in closet and picked out the most formal outfit I owned: a giraffe-print pantsuit over a rosewood-colored popcorn shirt that exposed my navel, finished off with some loafers that matched the latter. You're probably thinking such an outfit wouldn't suit me, and… you're right. But I'm sure we all can relate to buying something on a whim and either rarely or never using it. Setting my clothes down on the bed, I got a hot shower going in order to freshen up after my workout, washing and combing through every strand of hair with Old Spice Wolfthorn and being just as thorough with the hairdryer. I splashed on a sporty cologne, gave my glasses a good shine (being careful not to accidentally break them with my strength), and got dressed, deciding to play it simple and wear my hair down. It still felt a little damp in places, but as a result, it gave off a glossy sheen that I was sure would drive Justine wild.

---

Speaking of whom, I met her down in the foyer with minutes to spare before our scheduled departure time. She too looked to have taken some time to get ready, but while she didn't stink, I couldn't detect any perfume on her. Maybe it was intentional, her letting her pheromones waft over to me completely unmasked. Given the way she'd been flirting with me the whole time I'd been living with her, it wouldn't surprise me. But what did surprise me was what she had on. Her great legs were covered in white skinny jeans that I could tell weren't opaque even from halfway up the staircase, some standard black flats without socks covering her dainty feet, and nothing but a thin tangerine-colored polo sweater covering most of her upper body. The sweater with no bra look? I mean don't get me wrong, it was a nice view, but how was I supposed to focus on the date itself while my dining companion was going Rachel style?

"Wow, you look stunning." Justine nodded with a grin, those lively green eyes scanning my body. "I'll bet you turned a lot of heads back in Malibu."

"Heh, I wish." I rubbed the back of my head. "But uh, where exactly are we headed?"

"Oh, you'll see!"

---

The last thing I saw was another flirtatious wink before she slipped a blindfold (or more accurately a headband) onto me. I would've complained about it potentially smearing my glasses, but that would've spoiled the mood. I felt Justine guiding me to her car out front, or one of them at least, considering her ride had been trashed even more than mine during that fateful incident. I managed to buckle in on my own, and we took off, chatting a bit during the ten minute drive into town until I felt us pulling to a stop.

"Alright, you can uncover your eyes now," Justine cooed.

I did as I was told, immediately spotting a classy sign that read 'El Carnaval de Carne'. I could see a decently-sized line in front of the glass front doors, the stone exterior decorated with a mural of one of those Brazilian Carnaval parades. Despite being outside, I could faintly hear some instrumentals that sounded like a hodgepodge of samba and dubstep, the music growing a bit louder each time someone was let in. I was half speechless, half terrified as Justine dragged me past the line, her reservation allowing us to go straight to our table. The fun, vibrant patterns were present along the lower half of each wall, some of those large feathers stuck to the white upper halves in varied formations. Much to my relief, the music wasn't as loud as I'd feared, having enough of a presence to not be ignored, but quiet enough to where I could hear myself talk and think. And as soon as I snagged the scent of charred, juicy cuts of meat, it only served to calm my nerves even more.

"So? Whaddaya think?" Justine asked.

"I can't believe it…" I managed to say. "You took me to a Brazilian steakhouse?"

"Yep. Figured you'd want something to put a little more meat on your bones."

"B-But I… I-I've been dying to try a place like this for so many years! How'd you know?!"

"I didn't. I just assumed… and it was the only restaurant near my house that I hadn't tried yet."

"Huh… well thanks, Justine. It… it really means a lot."

After we shared a brief smile, I took the next minute or so to examine the place some more. The formally-dressed waiters briskly walked from table to table, offering cuts of meat served upright on these miniature spits; if a customer said yes, then they'd either just slide off a piece, or if it wasn't in chunks, then some would have to be slivered off. The cuts ranged from standard ones, like flank steak, bacon-wrapped sirloin, and herbed, stuffed morsels of chicken or pork, but some of them were more unusual, like chorizo links and even chicken hearts. Each table had a coaster-looking thing for each seat; from what I could gather, the green side would have to be up in order for the waiters to stop by, while the red side drove them away in case the customer wanted to take a break. That aside, there was also a massive glass chamber built into one of the walls, containing racks of bottled wine too high for anyone not named Stilt Man to reach, but thankfully, there was a woman in a silk harness who was flipping around, gracefully and effortlessly nabbing bottles for any party that asked for one.

I turned back to my date just in time for us to order our drinks. Justine was gracious enough to stick with water, urging me to order whatever I felt like. So I asked our server what red wines he recommended.

"Funny, you never struck me as much of a drinker," Justine laughed a bit, looking laid back and cheerful as always.

"I'm really not… but sometimes I can't help but indulge. Plus, red wine is actually healthy in small quantities." Damn it Yvette, quit showing off!

"Wow, I actually never knew that. Heh, sure wish school would squeeze more fun facts into their curriculum."

"Don't I know."

Apparently with the way this restaurant was set up, only the meaty main courses were actually served to you. Everything else was found on a sprawling buffet in the center of the expansive dining area. The contents ranged from different types of bread, to pasta, to beans, to a salad bar, and even some other entrees, like a stewed fish dish I didn't bother to try. I could never pass up an opportunity to dig into some meaty goodness, but for some reason I couldn't quite place, I had to draw the line at seafood. I figured it would be easier to talk while we were eating, since the food would give me something else to direct my eyes to, but surprisingly, that wasn't necessary. My eye-contact had never been horrendous, but it was only decent at best, and combined with my social awkwardness it made me an oddball back in school.

"So, uh, I've been meaning to ask this for a while, but… why do you do what you do?" Justine broke the silence, swallowing a bite of some cheesy potato dish. "I mean, I already know you used to be fat due to stress eating, and took up working out to get back in shape, but… the introversion? The awkwardness? It doesn't entirely add up."

Hoo boy, I should've seen this coming. Justine had spent the whole night buttering me up, what with putting on an outfit that flaunted her n*****s and taking me to an awesome-sounding restaurant. It could only be a matter of time before she started to pick my brain. But I wasn't going to fight it. Shutting my eyes and taking a deep breath, I ignored everything else going on around me and started to bare it all… metaphorically, of course:

"So as I told you before, when I was little, my pediatrician placed me on the autism spectrum. My mom was already bitter from losing almost everything in the divorce, so she used my bumbling as an excuse to let out her anger. I remember almost every night she'd yell and curse me out, jumping between English and Czech�"oh yeah, I forgot to mention I'm half Bosnian, half Czech�"and sometimes coming close to hitting me, but always catching herself. That alone was enough to make me push myself, getting good grades and getting more exercise. Funny enough, it wasn't my weight, nerdiness, or mental health that got me bullied, but rather my interests," I explained, gathering some steak and pasta onto my fork.

"What kind of interests?"

"Well… early on, I discovered that I was a fan of Bruno Mars, and-"

"Wait, what?! Holy s**t, I thought I was the only one!"

"Heh, same. But after discovering such an awesome talent, I felt the need to let everyone know. And okay, I might have talked about him too much, making myself come off as crazy obsessed-"

"I don't blame you."

"…but even before I took things too far, everyone still made fun of me for it, acting as if liking him was the most bizarre thing in the world. I couldn't so much as walk by without everyone bringing him up or singing his songs, as if he was the only thing I ever thought about, when that couldn't be any further from the truth. Nobody bothered to try and learn anything else about me, as an excuse for their ignorance," I continued venting my thoughts, taking a sip of my wine. "Hell, the only people even resembling close friends I had growing up were from outside of school."

I paused for a moment, wanting to let Justine chime in if she felt the need to, but she seemed too immersed in my backstory to want to do so. She just smiled and made a hand gesture that told me to keep going, her other hand resting on her cheek.

"Eventually, that torture ended once we got out of elementary school. I remember over that summer, I asked my mom how to make friends�"she wasn't abusive anymore, given my overall improvements, but she still seemed a little distant�"and she just said, 'Don't be a b***h'. So I took that to heart once middle school began. Thankfully, I rarely encountered those bullies from last year, and even they seemed to have gotten tired of tormenting me. I decided to start being nice to people, and there were a select few girls I really saw as friend material. But not only did they not seem interested, but my efforts to get on good terms with them were noticed by others and before I knew it, everyone was calling me a dyke and a f****t… granted I did learn I was gay a few years later, but still…"

Justine remained silent, her gentle, endearing smile having been swapped out for a look of empathy.

"I eventually got the idea to up my workout routine, hoping that my muscles would scare the bullies off, but all it did was attract even more scorn… the only reason I didn't try to lose the gains is because I liked the way they looked," I explained. "So at that point, I just gave up. I figured that no one would give me a chance, and I decided I shouldn't give them one either. I decided to just shut up, keep my head down, and focus on my studies. It managed to drive those d*****s away, but it also resulted in the rest of my education blurring together and speeding by. I never went to any parties or played any sports, I did squeeze in some casual dates with a few girls… and guys, but again, they were all outside of school. And all I had under my belt when it all ended was a bachelor's in organic chemistry and no lifelong companions."

After spelling out and practically reliving my whole past again, I had to stop and take another deep breath, capping it off with one last gulp of wine, which emptied the glass. I was slightly startled as Justine reached across the table and stroked my hand with her own.

"Sooo… you mean to tell me you based your entire life around kids being kids? You didn't even bother to see if those brats from your childhood… I dunno, changed with age?" she spoke up at last.

"Well, I mean… n-no, I did not," I rubbed the back of my head, already knowing where she was going with this.

"Don't get me wrong, some people just never change, and it sucks to be them, but… in general, I find it hard to believe that someone who was a jerk as a little kid would not mature at all over the course of ten plus years."

"Well I do recall a few instances in high school where those same kids were a lot nicer to me. They didn't apologize for what they did, but at least we were on somewhat better terms… and I also noticed that everyone was mature enough to where people could be open about their interests and whatnot without being made fun of… not to say that never happened, but nowhere near as frequently."

"Uh-huh. Well I was just thinking back to what you said about those other kids, and how they were making false assumptions based on what little they knew… and given what you said afterwards, I'd say you're guilty of doing the same thing. The reason they didn't apologize was probably because you never gave them a chance. You effectively closed yourself off from everyone who wasn't nice to you, and as a result, you squandered the rest of your youth and even the full college experience."

"Huh… I never thought about it like that before…" I absentmindedly signaled the server to give me a Brazilian seasoned lamb meatball. "Honestly, I never took you to be so insightful… I mean-"

"What, you think I'm stupid?" Justine snarked.

"N-No, no, I didn't mean it like that! I just… I just have a lot to think about now."

"Well you'll have all the time in the world to do that. But for now, why don't we lighten the mood a bit?"

"Yes, let's."