I fixed the collar of my blouse feeling more than a little nervous. When I was in a state like this I often fidgeted a lot and today was no exception as I stood before my full length mirror, attempting in vain to straighten out the creases in my clothing.

I knew it was ludicrous; to be so conscious of my outfit even though I wasn't interested in the boy I was seeing tonight. However, this was my first date. Whether I was interested in Beckett or not, I felt it necessary to look my best. After all, the chances of ever having another date with anybody were slim to none.

Letting out a shaky breath, I stared at my reflection. I'd chosen to wear a loose fitting, sheer white blouse which was tucked into my high waisted denim shorts. My tights had seen better days what with the ladder that ran down the entire length of my right leg and I couldn't say my feet were an improvement, clad in a pair of grubby, mud stained sneakers.

So it wasn't a great look but considering my usual attire was a tattered sweater and my comfortable skinny jeans then I reckoned it was a pretty good attempt. Not to mention my normally straight hair framed my face in ringlets. Beckett should consider himself lucky seeing as I was wasting the precious hours I would have otherwise devoted to Teen Wolf to fancying myself up for him instead.

Deciding that scrutinising myself in the mirror wasn't helping (only increasing my nerves for what the night might entail and regret for getting myself wound up in this situation in the first place), I made my way to the living room and plopped myself down next to my mum on the couch. She was flicking through the channels on our television, settling for a wildlife documentary.

"So who's the boy?" She said after a few painfully awkward minutes of watching animals mate. I'd never understood why people did that; filmed animals doing the deed with one another. There wasn't documentaries about humans doing it with a monotonous commentator explaining the ins and outs (pardon the pun), so why was it acceptable for our furry friends not to have any privacy in the bedroom department?

"What?"

"I haven't seen you out of your jeans for an eternity, sweetheart," She said with a soft smile but I couldn't focus on our conversation or her positivity over the situation. Not with the distracting sound of monkeys making babies filling the room. "You're continuously glancing at the clock and your legs are as jumpy as a puppet on a string. Who's the boy?"

"Maybe it's because we're watching this. Mum can you just change the channel already, I'd rather eat my own liver than watch anymore." I groaned, gesturing toward the television. It was nature, I got it, but watching it with your mum was something entirely different.

"As long as this young man isn't anything like Preston and Aaron-"

"Parker and Axel." I corrected.

"-then I'll have no problem with him," She continued as if I hadn't interrupted. "The last thing I want is for you to be hanging out with delinquents and for them to tarnish your-"

The shrill ring of the doorbell thankfully cut her tangent short and I snatched my phone from the table before rushing to greet Beckett. I was overcome with a peculiar mix of dread and excitement as my eyes skimmed over his profile. He was wearing his usual outfit consisting of a red plaid shirt and what Parker liked to call his "stupid khaki pants". His hair had more product on it than usual and the profound smell of his cologne almost made me choke - he surely had enough on for two people.

"You're looking rather stunning tonight," Beckett drawled as charming as ever. I bit back the snarky reply I wanted to throw his way. I'd told myself earlier that seeing as I'd gotten myself into this mess and there was no escaping it, I'd just try to ignore Beckett's irritating ways and attempt to enjoy my night (and take slight joy in the knowledge that I'd be irritating Parker in the process). "As per usual of course."

"Thanks I guess?"

"I booked us a booth at Vincent's," He shrugged as if it was no big deal that we were eating at the most expensive restaurant in town that was down by the beach. My mouth involuntarily gaped at him before I quickly regained my composure. "I hope that's okay. Dinner is on me."

I would have protested but no doubt our meal would cost a fortune. A fortune I couldn't afford. I bit back a sigh.

I felt a presence looming behind me and to my utmost horror, my Mum's voice said, "I think you've got a winner here, sweetheart! Far better than that other boy you associated yourself with-"

"Mum." I said tersely, smiling at her through gritted teeth. "We need to go and you're holding us up."

"Calm down, I was just coming to make sure that this lovely young gentleman knew of your situation," She put heavy emphasis on the word situation, making us all well aware of what she was talking about and forcing my level of awkwardness to skyrocket from the solid 6 out of 10 it was sitting at to a rough 11. "You just call me if anything happens, alright? He seems very polite so I'm sure there's nothing to worry about but it's better to be safe than sorry," She turned to Beckett. "You know your boundaries don't you? Oh how rude of me, I didn't even catch your nam-"

"Come on Beckett, we need to go. Food to eat and cutlery to- uh, utilise." I stated with haste before stalking out of the doorway, not once looking back to check whether Beckett was stuck with my Mum or following my lead. Thankfully I could hear his footsteps behind me.

He chuckled as he caught up with my fast paced strides. "She's just concerned about you. She seems like a lovely woman, stop being so embarrassed."

"Easier said than done." I knew my face was the colour of beetroot but there was nothing that I could do about it. It blushed on its own accord and I'd just have to let it pass, knowing from experience that if I tried to focus on calming it down it would only burn brighter.

The walk to Vincent's felt like a long one though it may have been because whenever Beckett tried to make conversation my replies were stiff and awkward. This led to long stretches of silence and multiple occasions where Beckett bragged about some lake house his parents owned to which I mumbled half-hearted comments in response to appear interested.

When we had finally reached Vincent's at the far end of the promenade, my spirits perked up slightly. As someone who found it extremely difficult to save up money and quite honestly, didn't have particularly much to save in the first place, eating at Vincent's was never an option. Skylar would be besides herself once I told her about this.

"After you." Beckett smiled, opening the door for me to step inside. A blast of warmth hit me from above, quickly reducing the chills from the exposed skin of my arms and thinly covered legs. The bell jingled as Beckett closed it behind him.

The restaurant was dimly lit, candles sitting on tabletops and quiet chatter filling the air. Overall, the place had a warm, relaxed atmosphere with its beige walls and parchment-coloured tables and booths. It was perfect. However, from the looks of the other customers it was very much a couples place to eat at for a cosy night out.

Beckett gave a nod to one of the waiters as he passed. He then led us to the booth farthest to the back. As we walked past couples with tinkling laughter escaping their lips, clinking their glasses of champagne together, any slight excitement I had in mind for a first real date fizzled out. It was a blatant reminder that I was just going along with this because I wouldn't get the chance again. I wasn't Skylar, I wouldn't be able to fake it the entire night. I was Flora who had a severe case of verbal diarrheah. Was winding Parker up even worth this much effort? Was the food?

My stomach growled loudly as if to say yes but luckily Beckett didn't seem to notice as he sat down. I sat opposite him, surprised to see food already on the table and a bottle of wine sitting next to the candle between us. It all seemed rather sophisticated and... intimate.

My confusion must have been clear as Beckett cleared his troat before explaining, "My father is good friends with the boss here. I arranged for him to make us their best and for it to be ready upon our arrival."

My thoughts travelled to Parker and his own date proposal. If I had agreed we would have no doubt gone to a place very much the opposite of this. It would have most likely been filled with trouble at every turning and the night would have disaster strike it multiple times. I'd probably complain about how unprepared he was and what a mess he had made of the night. Knowing him, he'd reply with some witty innuendo and I'd end up punching the boy in the face again and-

And I was comparing the two and needed to stop.

"Oh," I paused, staring down dejectedly at the measly amount on my plate. It sure looked fancy, but whether it would satisfy my hunger was another story. I picked up my fork, rolling one of the three brown dumplings about my plate that sat upon a smudge of red sauce. "So what is it?"

He peered over to look at my plate. "Looks like roasted fennel and pine nut polpette to me," He paused as he looked at my completely bemused face, "If you don't like it feel free to try my own dish."

"Which is?" I had my fingers crossed underneath the table for fries and a milkshake. Instead, I warily looked at his plate and realised that I'd had the better end of the stick with my own meal.

"Salt and pepper squid."

"Think I'll pass." I mumbled, taking a tentative bite of my food.

"Wine?" Beckett offered, opening the bottle with a pop and pouring himself a glass.

"We're sixteen. I thought you had to be nineteen to drink wine in Illinois?" Apparently my answer wasn't needed as he began pouring me a glass anyway. "I'd rather not..."

He cocked one of his eyebrows up in the air, stopping mid-pour. "Like I said, my father is friends with the manager. Why aren't you drinking? Where's the rebellious Flora that got in trouble with the police? Who skipped school for days afterward? I thought I was going to have to tame you with your rule breaking, not encourage you."

I thought back to Skylar and what she had said one morning.

"All of the guys think you're this secret badass now that you hang out with Parker and they love it. Exciting stuff, huh? You can shoot down every single one of them."

I clenched my teeth together in frustration. This entire thing was such a waste of my time.

"That wasn't even my fault!" I was well aware I was attracting attention from a few tables over but I couldn't bring myself to care. Nor did I care about one of the brown dumplings that rolled from my plate and bounced across the tiled flooring as I waved my arms up in the air to express myself. "It was the old woman's fault for ringing them when she didn't understand the situation and Parker's for trying to beat one of the police men up and Axel's for driving when intoxicated! When will people understand that I'm innocent in all of this!?"

"Can you please lower your voice, you're embarrassing me." He hissed under his breath. I knew what he was thinking. Two words.

Drama queen.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to the restroom." I snapped, stalking to the ladies toilets.

I hunched over the sink once I got inside and took deep breaths to calm myself down as I gripped onto its cool edges. Not only was I mad at myself for showing up in the first place, but for actually believing that it could have possibly been an enjoyable evening even with not so enjoyable company.

When I finally felt I had regained my composure however many minutes later, I almost jumped out of my skin when I looked up. There, reflected in the small mirror above the sink, was no one other than Parker Heywood standing behind me.

I spun around, gaping at him like a fish out of water. "What- you- why are you here?"

"I can't believe you dressed up for him." His eyes were slits as they ran me up and down. He took a step forward and I took one back, bumping into the sink behind me.

"Hardly," I snorted, even though this was indeed my way of dressing up. I stared down at my dirty feet and ripped tights. "It looks like I've walked through sewage in my sneakers and my tights have a ladder in them."

"A stairway to heaven more like," He said, staring at my legs. "He's a fucking douche bag. Why did you make yourself look nice for a douche bag? What's so good about him? His flashy cars?"

Ever since the forced kiss in his truck things had been a little off between the pair of us. My awkwardness and wary nature around him were to blame. Since then, I hadn't been very good at forming coherent sentences when speaking to Parker which amused him to no end. During the many days leading up to my date he'd done everything within his power to convince me not to go and had insisted on going on a date with him instead. From my current predicament, the answer as to what I chose to do was obvious.

"Maybe I like douche bags." It came out sounding more like a question.

"Sure you do," He replied sarcastically. His hair that was usually styled to swoop up at the front was hanging limp today, strands falling to his forehead like delicate blades of chocolate grass. "Just as much as you like the shitty food that you accidentally threw all over the floor."

I grimaced. "You saw that?"

"It was hard to miss."

"How did you even know I was here?" I asked, double checking there wasn't any other people in here with us. "And why are you in the girls' bathroom?"

"Because you are," He stated it in a matter-of-fact tone as though it wasn't completely out of the ordinary to follow someone you wanted to talk to into the toilet of the opposite sex. "And I knew you were here because this place is for couples with a shit tonne of money and Beckett is a predictable, stuck up little-"

"Enough already." I groaned, massaging my temples with my fingers whilst trying to come up with a solution to this mess. The only one I could think of was crawling out of the small window in the bathroom to escape. Alas, the window practically touched the ceiling and I was extremely vertically challenged.

"Starting to wish you'd gone on a date with me instead now, aren't you? The offer is still on the table, you know. Free for the taking." He had an impish grin on his face now as he took another step toward me.

"And why would I want to do that?" With virtually no more space to back away from Parker, I was forced to sit half in the sink, my shorts sticking to the damp sink bowl. I looked to the quickly diminishing gap between us with panic seizing my gut.

"Because no matter how much you try to deny it, you liked me kissing you," His gaze flitted between my eyes and lips so I recoiled my head backwards. It whacked against the mirror behind me in the process and I could feel myself developing a double chin with the way I was trying to sink into myself to get away from the threat of another kissing fiasco.

Had I enjoyed it? Honestly, the answer was no. I had been - to put it lightly - terrified. I didn't touch people and people didn't touch me, he knew that. Everyone knew that. What had been alarming however, was that the panic was solely to do with him forcing himself on me.

I'd spent a sleepless night tossing and turning, my thoughts buzzing around in my brain like angry hornets. I'd been scared of the prospect of his touch, scared of my body's reaction. Whenever I made physical contact, my skin felt as though it was burning. The feeling that consumed me felt fundamentally wrong and uncomfortable.

Yet, Parker's lips had met mine and it hadn't felt like that.

I wasn't saying it didn't feel horrible, I was saying that it didn't feel as though my skin had been engulfed in flames. Just like the time where he held my hand and I felt severe discomfort but found it to be tolerable.

There was something about Parker that seemed to make my body subconsciously trust him. I had no idea what it was, but I couldn't deny that it was happening.

"Do you want me to try again?" His breath tickled my ear though I noticed he was purposefully making no contact with my body whatsoever, hands braced on either side of me upon the sink at a safe distance apart.

I suddenly envied the snail. What I wouldn't give for a shell to crawl into and hide from life in.

He drew his head back to show me the cheery grin he wore on his face. I couldn't work out whether it was because he'd rattled me so much or because he knew my date had been a disaster so far. Whatever the reason, it was really frustrating. So much so that I ducked underneath his arm and stormed out of the toilets leaving whatever else Parker was trying to say lost as the door shut behind me.

If I actually had a good time tonight then Parker wouldn't be looking so smug. If swallowing my pride was what it took to accomplish that then I'd do it. Just to prove Parker wrong. I could have fun with Beckett if I tried... like- really hard.

"Look, I'm sorry," I apologised as I sat back down. Beckett looked up, startled. The sound of a door banging shut caused me to discreetly cast a glance over my shoulder. Parker was heading my way. I had all of ten seconds to make everything seem like the perfect date. "I've just been stressed lately and I took it out on you."

Lies, lies, lies, lies.

I hoped that for once it looked believable.

"Your social etiquette could do with some improvement but it's okay, gorgeous, we can fix that." He looked relieved, back in his element as things were returning to his original plans. I highly doubted that he'd ever tried to win a girl over and experienced this much drama. I could quite easily believe all he had to do was buy them something pricey and they'd be forever his.

Unfortunately for him that was never going to happen with me. Not on my watch and certainly not on Parker's. Just as the thought ran through my brain, Parker was at our table. Seeing as I'd expected yelling, shouting, flying fists or at least some snappy comments, the forced smile Parker wore that looked impressively genuine did wonders with unsettling me.

My nerves tripled as he mutely flicked his wrist for me to slide farther along the seat in our booth. Still numb from shock at his odd behaviour, I did as he asked. Smiling at the free space next to me, he sat down.

"Heywood?" Beckett mumbled looking utterly confused as he stared at Parker.

"Gray." He chirped.

"What are you doing here?" Understanding was beginning to dawn on my date's features and his eyebrows furrowed angrily. "If you're here to sabotage our evening together-"

"Flora isn't like other girls," Parker interrupted as he slid lower in his seat. From the look on Beckett's face and by the way he shifted along his own it was because he was using the spot next to Beckett as a foot rest. Five stars for table manners, Parker. "She likes to eat. You won't be able to impress her by giving her food that your stick thin girls have trouble finishing."

I felt my face flush in embarrassment. "Well gee, thanks for pointing that one out."

Neither of them paid me any attention. Parker had dropped his cheery façade and both were now too focused on glaring at one another.

"You know, jealousy isn't an attractive trait. You'd have more chance of winning her over if you actually just admitted defeat."