One Night

Bridget Miller entered her small red used mini cooper full of optimism as she smoothed down her sky-blue skirt. She had a date tonight. The completely average, hazel-eyed, wavy brown-haired girl had just recently moved to her college town, located in Boulder, CO to attend CU. She planned to someday become a teacher, since she thought that if she were to do that, she could make a real difference in the world by helping shape the minds of the future. It was like when you welded metal with extreme, but friendly heat, if the children of tomorrow’s world needed anything, it was lessons. Though that was not the reason why she was driving this evening to another apartment building in her most casual formal wear, eyes shaded by light grey make-up, and lips coated with pink lipstick as if they were the perfect coat and it was the middle of winter. She had a date. She had goosebumps just thinking of the simple phrase in her mind. The small Miller girl had had her fair share of dates, along with one or two boyfriends in the past, but she knew that could change completely once you went to college. Not to say that Bridget was in a swoon with absolutely every man she met (she also adored how she could accurately call them men now), but she felt similar to the girl learning how to swim, tiptoeing closer and closer to the deep end, or what she could call true, actual love. Life was terrifying like that, but it was also wonderful. One step or action could change her life forever, she was realizing quickly, and she liked that. The man who she was dating was named Juan Romero had set up the date simply a few hours ago. He was a man who she believed that she was still in the process of meeting. They both had liked one another’s photos, and that was just the beginning. She had posted a picture of herself at home with a few dogs in her black and white striped shirt. Attractive, but practical. He, on the other hand, was an attractive beast from the start with his tall body, Hispanic name, and dark features, she thought he must have been a dream immediately. He was hot, tall (well, anything was tall to her close to five-foot height), and best of all, he liked her. Hopefully, she would get to understanding every part of that tonight, but don’t get too hopeful. They had texted each other, both hesitant. Juan had told her that he lived in 2030 Spruce Street, which Bridget had never before hear of. She thought it would be like the rest of the things in her life, as she had intended. Just put it in her GPS and she would be there as quick as a flash. It never was like that, no matter how much she wished that it was. Was that a sign? She sure hoped not. She was probably getting too lost in the sunset over the mountains. It wasn’t like she was nervous or anything. He had not told her his plans for them that night, and that was alright. It left her in nervous, jittery anticipation and that was not always bad. It wasn’t always her surprise birthday party when she was 8 where she first got introduced to her worst fear of Clucky the Clown. Where did Juan live again. She could’ve thought his place was called Spruce because of all the Blue Spruces that were planted nearby it, but in Colorado, Blue Spruces are almost everywhere (though just far enough away from one another to not consider the place a forest). Was she Red Riding Hood and he, the Wolf? Gosh, she hoped so. She always did like wolves. She drove in the circle surrounding a certain group of apartments more than once, until she realized, she was lost. It just figures, doesn’t it? This was a bad idea. No, it wasn’t.