A Forced First Date Is Not Usually A Good One

"Yeah, but what do you think?" she asked, sitting next to him. "Would you date me? I'm pretty, right? All the other guys seemed to think so."

Max felt his face turn very red, and he tried to hide his face by looking away.

"I-I don't know why my opinion matters..."

"Just tell me," she growled, narrowing her eyes. "If you don't got something nice to say, talk anyway so I know I should punch you."

"Well, I mean, of course I have something nice to say, that's...why..." he mumbled, hiding behind his hair. "I mean, I would...date you, but, Renee..."

"Well, why would you date me? What's my best feature?"

"I don't know, I mean, your...muscles," he offered, unsure of what else to compliment. After all, it was what Max liked best.

She stared at him for a while, trying to gauge whether or not he was joking.

"...Um, thanks? I guess?" she said finally, lowering her fists. "I don't, uh...this I've ever gotten that before."

Max really hoped that signaled the end of this line of questioning.

"Let's...get back to sign language."

"...Sure," she said, still giving him a queer look. "...You said this was 'a', right?" She gestured incorrectly.

"Like this," Max showed her again, feeling much less awkward now.

-x-

Lydia shoved Max into the wall.

"We're studying again today," she said. It was unsurprising; she had been doing this every day for more than a week. "I gotta get better fast if Renee's gonna like me."

"I told you'd, it'll take a long time," Max pleaded. This was getting tiresome. His back hurt from being shoved.

She glared at him.

"What? Are you telling me you honestly need me to sweeten the deal? What part of not getting your face beaten to a pulp don't you like?"

"No!" he pleaded. "I'm just saying, it's not going to be weeks, it'll be months, maybe years!"

"Then we'll do this every day until I get good," she growled.

Max hung his head.

"...okay," he replied, sighing heavily. This was a nightmare.

"You ever ridden a bike before?" She asked, letting go of him.

"Yeah, I bike to school," he replied.

She snorted.

"I ain't ever seen your bike," she said, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him through the halls. "You've only got that shitty bicycle. We're taking my bike today."

"I thought that's what you meant!" Max cried. "What are you talking about?! Lydia, I-I'm fragile!"

"Hold onto my waist like your life depends on it--'cuz it does--and you won't fall off and go splat on the pavement. Easy."

"I don't like this, can't we just meet at my house like normal?!" he insisted, feeling as if he were about to cry.

"No, I got something planned," she insisted, pulling him over to her motorcycle. "You ain't trying to fuck up my plans, are you?! I kill people who fuck over my plans."

She tossed him a helmet. "Put it on if you like your head where it is."

Well, at least he got a helmet. He pulled it on, making sure it was on well.

"D...do we have to change it up?"

She pulled on her helmet and climbed on her bike.

"Can't hear you--hurry and get on, or I'll run you over."