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This is not a Date 01
🕑 Added 2025-09-03 02:52:33 +0000 UTC It was the final month of senior year, and Josh knew if he didn’t confess now, he never would. He’d carried a torch for Chloe since freshman year—the perfect girl, and the most striking mutant he’d ever seen. Her silky hair shimmered with spontaneously shifting colors, always swept into an elegant ponytail with artful highlights. Chloe’s mutations were aesthetically captivating yet unobtrusive, making her the envy of both normies and mutants alike. Josh gathered his courage and took the plunge. He slipped a heartfelt, if slightly clichéd, note into her locker. To his astonishment, she agreed to meet him behind the school at day’s end to give her answer. That afternoon, Josh arrived at the spot, heart hammering. But instead of Chloe, he found Jordan waiting. Jordan was Chloe’s friend—a girl taller than most, athletic, perpetually scowling, and always clad in a leather jacket (even in summer) that concealed her four distinct breasts. Four toned arms, a thick scaly tail that swayed uneasily, and long, furred ears completed her imposing presence. She wasn’t conventionally pretty, but her beauty was fierce—intimidating and powerful. As part of Chloe’s "inner circle," everyone assumed she doubled as a bodyguard. "Where’s Chloe?" Josh asked, bewildered. Jordan crossed her arms and sighed, weary. "She’s not coming. Sent me to say she’s not interested. Appreciates the gesture... but don’t bother her again." Her tone suggested rehearsed lines. Josh froze. Disappointment twisted his mouth; his eyes glistened. Fists clenched, he took a shaky breath. "But she promised to give me an answer here. Why couldn’t she face me?" "Wanted to avoid drama or embarrassing you publicly. That’s all," Jordan replied, faintly condescending. "So I wasn’t even worth a face-to-face?" His voice cracked. Jordan glanced away, discomfort flickering across her face. For a moment, she almost looked sympathetic. "Damn, I’d rather deal with anger than tears. Look—I don’t agree with it either. But that’s Chloe. No scenes. Everything neat, tidy, and drama-free." Defeated, Josh slumped onto the concrete curb. "I had reservations... at Sugar Crumbs. The new dessert place. Thought it’d be a perfect first date. I even made a list of conversation topics so I wouldn’t sit there like an idiot." Jordan hesitated, scratching her neck. "Sugar Crumbs? That overpriced spot with the sculpted waffles?" Josh nodded. "Paid the deposit. Nonrefundable. It was supposed to be perfect..." She studied him. Her stern expression softened slightly. There was something unexpectedly tender about him. "Well... waste not, right?" she finally said. "You could... go with me. Save your money." Josh stared. "Seriously? You’d go?" Jordan shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Nothing better to do. And I like waffles. But this isn’t a date." "Obviously!" Josh said too quickly. "Just... waffles." An hour later, they faced a plate of heart-shaped waffles adorned with strawberries, chocolate, and whipped cream. "This is aggressively cheesy," Jordan muttered, spearing a strawberry. "Mildly embarrassing." "Sorry—I booked the ‘romantic package,’" Josh admitted, flushing. "But it’s delicious!" "Can’t argue that," Jordan conceded, eating a bite. "Just hope there’s no hidden rose petals or violins." "Definitely not!" Josh said, subtly waving off a waitress approaching with a bouquet. He changed the subject. "Does Chloe do this often?" "Often enough. I’m always the cleanup crew." "Her rejection specialist?" Josh asked, staring at his plate. "Yeah. Guess she figures I scare off the volatile ones. Still a shitty job." "Must be common." "Not really. Only the cockiest guys shoot their shot with Chloe—and most are idiots. Won’t lie: I enjoy watching their egos crumble." A sly smile touched her lips. "Guys like you? The... sincere ones? Who actually work up the nerve to approach a ‘goddess’? Rare. Very few." "And do you enjoy rejecting them too?" "...Different. You’re not arrogant—just hopelessly earnest." Jordan paused, savoring the waffle. "I stay neutral. Quicker the bandage rips off, the less it hurts." "You agree with how she handles it?" Jordan inhaled, crossing all four arms as she eyed the ceiling. "Chloe’s beautiful, and not a bad friend. But she knows she’s untouchable. How couldn’t she? Mutations like hers—storybook hair, MLP-worthy tail—are all perks, no drawbacks. Pure admiration. No fear. No disgust. Not like the rest of us." Josh listened quietly. Jordan seemed to need this. "Look," she continued, "you’re not an idiot like the others. But forget her." "I can’t. I’ve waited all of high school." "So did every guy drooling after her," Jordan said firmly. "Take my advice—you seem decent. But you’ll just keep crashing into Chloe’s wall of perfection." "Guess that’s fair," Josh sighed. "You’re like... a warning sign. Intimidating, but full of vital info." Jordan raised an eyebrow, then burst out laughing. "Weirdest compliment ever. But... thanks." When the bill arrived, the waitress asked, "Shall I bring the flowers included with your reservation?" Josh stammered, but Jordan cut in: "Bring them." As the waitress left, Josh cringed. "You think I’m a cheesy idiot." "Acknowledging it is the first step to recovery," Jordan teased. Outside, Jordan admired the bouquet. "You really splurged. Want me to give these to Chloe tomorrow?" "Better not. She’d toss them," Josh said. "Keep them. As thanks for tonight." Jordan blinked. "...Thanks. First time anyone’s given me flowers." "Seriously? Hard to believe." Josh took a breath. "I know it’s dumb, but... I need to try again." "With Chloe? Yeah, that’s dumb. Thought I made that clear over waffles." "I know. But I can’t accept my dream’s dead without another shot." "You’re romantic to a fault," Jordan said, rolling her eyes. "Just promise me one thing." "Yeah?" "Don’t go all-in. If you insist on trying, fine—but brace for rejection." "Don’t worry. Knowing Chloe better now? I’m prepared. I might seem simple, but... I’m stubborn." Josh smiled. Jordan flushed faintly. As they parted, Josh walked home. Jordan lingered, watching him leave, the bouquet held gently in her hands. At least the flowers are beautiful, she thought.
