WITH ALL THE tasks I needed to complete for this charity night, including finding a date and getting a suit, I never expected my biggest challenge to be figuring out how to tie a dumbass piece of fabric around my neck.

This is the fifth time I've attempted this, and even with two YouTube tutorials, I can't get it down.

With frustrating spilling over, I aggressively tug it loose, throwing it towards the back of my truck. Maybe if my dad took some time away from his precious work to teach me a thing or two about this stuff.

My watch flings off my wrist from the action, due to the broken strap I keep forgetting to fix. I barely wear it anyways—the overpriced thing. It was a gift I received after graduation from my doting father who obviously doesn't know me enough to know I hate watches, but what could I say? Especially when he handed it to me with a smile and pat on the head. I had to take the crumbs I could get.

I pick the watch back up, quickly readjusting the straps to hope it'll stay on better. I'm already running later than the time I set for myself. I shouldn't have practiced so late into the day, I know that now. My hair isn't fully dry and I didn't even get the chance to iron my shirt.

When the truck warms up, I waste no time shifting the gear and rushing out of the parking lot.

I can't wait till this damn night is over.

Summer said she was ready. She even insisted she'd been ready for hours when I called the second time just to make sure. I really hope she's telling the truth or else she's going to have to come out at whatever stage her preparation is at.

She looked less than enthusiastic about tonight, so I wouldn't be surprised if minimal effort was put into it.

She can wear whatever makes her comfortable. I already told her the dress code, so as long as it's formal, it should be fine.

I park at a spot outside of her dorm hall, sending her a quick text to announce my arrival. She shoots one back letting me know she's on her way down, so now it's the waiting game.

I take a breath, tapping my fingers against the steering wheel, before realizing I should probably meet her at the door.

My mother's words play back in my head. "I want my son to be a gentlemen. A nice, proper, gentlemen."

I'm no saint, but I try my best. I want to make her proud, even beyond the grave.

I position myself against the wall by the entrance to wait.

The weather is surprisingly warm for a February, with a chilly breeze that hits every once in a while.

And Summer still isn't here yet. She said she was on her way, how long does it take to walk down from her room?

We're gonna be late. I take my phone back out to call her again, when the sound of heels clicking against the pavement gets my attention.

"Please tell me you were not about to blow up my phone again."

My head extents back up and freezes on her. It's a completely involuntary act of my body betraying my brain.

I can't look away no matter how hard I try because she looks good. Damn good.

She's wearing a form fitting floor-length black dress. It has a side slit that shows off her left leg, and plunging neckline that stops right before it can reveal anything. Her hair is straightened and her makeup seems to only accentuate her already attractive features.

"You look. I mean you really—" What is going through my head?

"Oh, this is not prom night." She's nonchalant, waving me off. "No need to fake compliments and all that chit-chat."

She leads the way after I point her towards the direction of my truck, taking the strap of her small sparkly purse off to hold it in her hand instead.

Whatever was about to come out of my mouth was definitely not going to be fake. Thank god she stopped me.

I think it still might've been too much, because she holds an awkward smile with a look of unease. Like she's trying to be polite but is actually dying inside.

So am I, summer. So am I.

"This your car?" She extends her head to examine my silver Ford F-150.

"Yep." I open the passenger door for her, earning a more pleasant smile that actually meets her eyes this time.

"It's nice."

She grunts, extending her leg up before dropping it down. She switches to her other leg and tries again, but is unable to get herself in.

"Do you need some help?" I ask.

"No, I'm good." She places her hands on the seat and tries to hoist herself up. It doesn't work either, and she ends up whining even louder.

"Little princess doesn't want to admit she needs a booster." Before she can protest, I lift her into my arms. A whiff of her perfume hits me, the sweet smell of vanilla and coconut mixing together in an intoxicating combination.

She lets out a squeal, it's high pitched and kind of adorable in an annoying way. Despite her pout, she says nothing as I gently get her into the seat.

"It's the dress and these heels, that's all." She feels the need to explain.

"Sure." I hum, making my way to the drivers side.

The hour long drive stretches even longer than I anticipated. That's what happens when you build a college in middle of nowhere Pennsylvania, you're stuck with miles and miles of country nothingness before you get to the nearest town.

The hip-hop song playing on the radio provides the only sound in what would probably been seen by others as an awkward moment. I don't find anything awkward about this. She doesn't know me and I don't know her, I think it only makes sense that we don't have anything to say.

When we inch close to our destination, she finally turns to me. "You're not wearing a tie? I thought we were suppose to pull out all the stops to be as fancy as possible."

I swerve into the crowded driveway, cursing myself at the confirmation of our lateness. "I couldn't figure out how to tie it. It's somewhere in the back. No big deal."

She undo's her seatbelt and dives to the backseat. After some shuffling, she comes back up with my tie in her hand, while I park in the only spot I can find towards the back of the building.

"Black, just like your entire suit. You're really going for the whole dark and mysterious thing, huh?" She says.

"I'm not going for anything expect fulfilling the obligation I made to coach Taylor."

The sun is beginning to set as we hop out.

"Ya, ya." She circles around to the drivers side and stops right before her body can touch mine.

Her soft hands wrap around my jaw, pulling my face down to meet her eye level.

Did I just suck in a breath, or did she?

She doesn't look bothered. Her expression is stoic and bored, just as it has been since she walked out of her dorm.

I need to get myself together. I just had too much caffeine today, that's why my heart is beating and senses are tickling right now.

She wraps the tie around my neck. Her attention is laser focused while she pulls it under and over and does whatever magic trick is required to get that damned thing looking straight.

My watch falls off my wrist again, hitting the ground with a loud plop. Summer stops tying, reaching down to scoop it up before I can. "Nice," She says, surveying it.

"It keeps falling off. I need to get it fixed before I end up losing it." The thought of actually losing it doesn't sadden me.

"Do you want me to hold it for you. I promise, I'll keep it safe in my purse." She offers in such a tone that I have no choice but to agree.

When I oblige, her hands fall back on my tie, pulling it up to tighten. "There," she says, patting my chest. "Now we're up to code."

She looks up and her eyes hold on mine. Her hand is still patting me, almost robotically. It's like she's stuck in a trance and that same trance has taken a hold of me as well.

"Carter, bro." My head snaps to the side, instantly recognizing Darren's voice. He holds his phone up, like he's snapping a photo.

A girl who I assume is his date stands besides him. She's impressively almost as tall as him, and holds a tight grip on his other hand. She wears a white poofy dress, it almost... is that a wedding dress?

As they get closer, I realize he is snapping photos of me—of us. Summer clears her throat and takes a few steps back.

"Too late," Darren says, "already got all the juicy moments." He turns his photo and slides through the photos he secretly took of Summer tying my tie and us staring at each other like weirdos.

I roll my eyes. I want to make sure they all know I don't care, that it's nothing, but my face still managers to heat up. 

"You must be Summer, Carter has told me a lot about you." Darren is putting on his award winning performance, all wrapped together with a devious smile. He extends his hand, pulling hers up to his mouth to give it a quick peck. "I must say, you're even more beautiful than he described."

If we weren't all dressed up, and I didn't lie about Summer being my legit date, I would kick his ass right now.

I don't bother looking to catch her reaction, even though I can sense her staring back at me.

"Thanks." her voice comes out nervous. "I didn't think he would bother talking about someone as unimportant as me."

Darren twists his face.

"I'm Paige, by the way. Not that anyone asked." Darren's date speaks up in the squeakiest voice I've ever heard in my life. Even my three-year-old sister has more bass than that.

"Oh, this is Paige. I met her at that stress relief seminar the counselors held last week," Darren says.

"I think we've established my name already. God Darren, you are such a Gemini." Her grip on him is not only strong, but almost alarming. I can see her nails claw into the skin of his wrist. He doesn't seem to react though.

"It's nice meeting you, Paige," Summer says.

Paige's mouth twists into a smile that doesn't match the weird look she holds. "You as well. Now that we've all greeted each other and established how beautiful Summer is, I think we should head in. Right honey?" She turns to Darren.

Honey? They're already at the stage after a week?

She releases her hand from Darren's and begins walking in on her own.

"You guys look great together, even though both of your faces look constipated right now," Darren says.

"Darren!"

We turn in shock at the aggressive voice screaming his name and even more shock fills me when I see its Paige. "I said let's go in already." She continues, her anger causing her to abandon the sweet little voice she put on moments before.

"I better get to the lady." He sounds unsure of himself as he rushes to her.

"What was her problem?" Summer asks.

"I don't have the energy to care." Is the only response I can muster.

***

The banquet hall of the Sampson Square country club is bigger than I thought. The buffed wooden floor is polished enough to see your own reflection. Rounded tables form in a organized cluster throughout the space, each topped with a white cloth, plates, silverware, glasses, and origami shaped napkins. Each table is numbered and has four to five seats, with most already occupied.

A giant chandelier dazzles up top, twinkling to create some sort of expensive effect, I'm sure.

"Can I get your name, please?" The attendant at the door asks. She has an earpiece and clipboard in hand, looking fully focused.

"Carter Reyes. And this is my date, Summer."

"Reyes, okay. You're at table two with Pennwood alumni and former NBA star, Marc Jackson. Also seated at the table is superstar sports agent, Kelly Meyers and Harrison Reed, who does campaigns for many athletic wear companies. Mr. Taylor thought it was important I informed you of that."

Of course he did.

We make our way to our table up front, passing multiple people I recognize from my own team, along with players from various other campus sports teams I'm not too familiar with.

Whether I know them or not, they're watching us. Summer is right by my side with her own award winning smile to counter the gawking audience. It doesn't resemble the same one I've seen briefly here and there, she's definitely putting on a show.

Darren is at table five. I wish he was sitting with us so the pressure wouldn't be on me all night. He's the one who knows how to be charming and talkative, that's never been my strong point.

When we get to the table, the three guests pause their conversation, cocked eyebrows and curious eyes meeting ours.

Summer takes a step back, turning to me.

I pull her chair out for her, guessing that's what she's waiting for.

"I'm Summer Sanders and this is Carter Reyes. It's nice to meet all of you." She shakes their hands with full professionalism, while I stand there like an idiot.

Of course, I was suppose to greet them and of course I completely missed the signal.

"Yes, it's nice to meet all of you." I try to recover my mishap naturally, but it still comes out hurried and my handshake is a tad bit too aggressive.

Marc Jackson probably thinks I'm a dumbass. The man was part of the dream team and he thinks I'm a dumbass.

Servers begin to pour out with food, everyone getting the same chicken and vegetable mix.

"So Carter, I've been hearing a lot about you. A very promising young man, indeed. Now you must tell me, what are your plans for the future?" Kelly Meyers probes, The curls of her blonde hair bouncing as she leans forward. 

"Um, finish school, I guess. Definitely make it to the NBA, that's my ultimate goal. And the rest, I'm not really sure. I like to take things a day at a time."

They listen intently and nod but I can tell Kelly especially looks disappointed in my answer. Like I'm supposed to have this amazing life full of success and wins planned to the T. I like to be realistic with my goals, tackle one hurdle before I go to the next. Right now, my focus is school and the team I'm currently on. I'll worry about the rest when it's time for me to join the drafts.

"That's us zoomers. We don't really know what we're doing in this world yet," Summer says to quick laughter among the middle-aged group. "But I think that's also a good thing. Leaving some open-endedness means there's room for mentorship, and growth, and pushing limits in any facet of life."

Okay, she's good.

And I can tell they think the same with the way their disappointment turns into smiles.

"That's very true. I'm always looking to mentor up and coming talent. The way you play out there, it's not just good—it's exciting. I think you have real potential and I'm definitely interested in lending my expertise, if you'd be up for it," Marc says.

I bring the glass of water to my mouth, almost choking on it. "For sure. I'd absolutely be up for it."

Coach steps on stage with a microphone in hand. He taps it a few times, getting the rooms attention, then begins to speak. "I want to thank everyone for coming out tonight."

He begins his speech that goes on way longer than it should. Coach loves a story almost as much as he loves the sound of his own voice.

First he brings up the importance of giving back to the community and how he wants to break the fundraising record tonight. Then he switches to the team, slyly bringing up our stadium size and wins, which circles back to his plans as our coach, and then leeway's to the entire autobiography of Jaime Taylor, from conception to now.

I take another gulp of water, my throat feeling dry just from listening to him.

Unlike everyone else at the table, I haven't actually picked up a utensil to try the food. It doesn't look seasoned or very appetizing in general.

Summer plays with her plate, spending more time poking it with a fork than actually eating anything. When she finally brings a bite to her mouth, her face twists in a way that nearly causes me to burst out laughing.

"So Carter, like Marc was saying, you do have a lot of potential. You have the Nike look and attitude down, but there's just one problem, your social media presence," Harrison says, "it doesn't exist. We can't tangibly gouge your support or your demand. In terms of marketing purposes, it makes things a little complicated in this digital age."

"I can work on joining social media, if it will help things. I just never had time to figure it out before." I really hope coach is proud of me because if this isn't putting myself out there then I don't know what is.

The hell do I look like tweeting?

They continue to ask questions that I give lackluster answers to, leaving Summer to elaborate with nuance I could never conjure up myself.

Coach was right about one thing, having the right woman on your arm does make a difference.

Some of the pressure is taken off of me when Marc Jackson begins telling multiple stories about his time in the league. He's loud and witty and gets everyone, including myself, laughing.

After our plates have been removed, the night whines downs as people start to get up and converse with others throughout the room. Friends catch up with each other, and players make a B-line to introduce themselves to important guests who weren't at their table.

With the three I needed to impress making their way around the room, I figure now's a good time for a break. "Hey Summer, I'm just gonna go to the bathroom real quick."

"Oh, could you show me the way? I have to go too," she says.

With everybody out of their seats, there's a lot less room to move around. Our journey includes plenty of excuse me's and even more sorry's for accidentally bumping into one person or another.

I turn back around after profusely apologizing for stepping one girl's dress, when I see Ken walking in my direction. When we pass each other, he rams himself against my shoulder intentionally with force.

"My bad." His apology is dry. "Though I'm sure the prospect of Marc Jackson's mentorship will heal the blow." His jaw is clenched as he walks away with his stunned date trailing behind him.

"Is that your teammate?" Summer asks.

"Ya, let's just get to these bathrooms." I'm not bothered enough to react. He'll cool down eventually, I'm sure.

I let out a breath when we close the doors of the banquet hall and all the loud chattering turns into quiet murmurs.

"It's so tense in there." Summer seems to be feeling the same way.

We head down the hall to the bathrooms I remember passing when we came in. After finding them, we part ways going into our perspective sections.

I take my time washing my hands, fixing my hair, splashing my face with cold water; anything to waste away the minutes not spent being around all those people.

I'm almost at the finish line. I just need to wrap things up and then I'm free.

I ponder if I should wait for Summer. Not being sure if she's still in the bathroom, I stand outside for a few moments before returning back on my own.

When I reenter the banquet hall, I try to search for her before coach pulls me aside.

"The night has been a success, son. We've raised a historic amount of money, thanks to me. And from what I've heard, you've made a great impression. I couldn't be happier
He's jittery with energy he only gets when he's had more than a few glasses of wine. His little bit of hair looks disheveled and his tie is loose enough to fall off.

While I'm enjoying his praise, I catch Summer at one of the tables by the window. She's been chatting with some guy. The smile on her face seems truer than anything she's given me all evening.

I take a closer look at her new acquaintance. Stocky build, shaved head, a tacky black and gold suit, Cory Bush? That arrogant, insufferable football player who walks around with an entourage like he's some big shot. He's who's gotten her attention, he's who's making her giggle and cover her mouth like a schoolgirl.

Coach's head snaps to the side, almost breaking off when he catches a glimpse of Kelly Meyer's and her generously tight red dress. "Well, if you'll excuse me." He clears his throat and follows her direction.

"Listen, Carter, I need your help." Darren ambushes me in a surprise. "My date. The girl is batshit crazy." He takes my arm, pulling us towards the less noticeable corner of the room.

"What did you get yourself into?" I groan.

"Darren! where did you go, I'm not done discussing our future kids." I hear the mix of Paige's sweet and dominating voice.

"Did you hear that? I barely know her and she's already talking about babies, and the baby's potential zodiac signs, and how she will commit mass genocide if the baby turns out to be a scorpion or something. How does a baby turn into a scorpion? What does that even mean?"

"I don't know, Darren. You're just going to have to make it through tonight and ditch her later." I shake my head.

He grabs the collar of my jacket, desperation pooling his eyes as he gets too close for comfort. "If I end up dead in a ditch, she did it. She absolutely did that shit. Do you know she has on a freaking wedding dress?"

"Darren, come out, come out, wherever you are." Paige is relentless, and has turned fully creepy.

His grip is tighter on my jacket. "Save me, Carter. Save me." He whispers right when Paige pry's her way right through the people who were supposed to shield us from her.

"There you are." She tugs his tie, pulling him away.

He continues to mouth pleas to me, but there's nothing I can really do to save him. I don't want to become her second victim, that's for sure.

When I look back over, Summer is still talking to Cory Bush. It irritates me, I'll admit. Only because it's wasting time. I'm not going to stand around for hours waiting for her to finish flirting.

I think she's more than paid back her debt. The night is ending and It's time for me to grab my date and head back home.