Chapter 6
Crunchy, Juicy Chicken
“Babe, wake up; we’re going out for dinner soon,” I hear a voice say quietly while a hand gently squeezes my side.
“Oh, hey! I'm basically ready, but before we go to the restaurant, I think we should stop by my apartment so I change into something else.”
I realize that I've been wearing these same clothes since I got to Misty's house, and I want to wear something a little bit nicer for this occasion. I partially open my eyes and get up into a sitting position. With my eyes only half open, I turn to look at Misty, who's already seated on the edge of the bed. It then also occurs to me that we've not yet decided which restaurant we'll go to.
“Have you figured out where exactly we're going?” I ask her.
“What do you like to eat?” she replies.
“I'd say chicken is probably my favorite food, especially in the form of fried chicken or chicken strips,” I answer after thinking about it for a few moments.
“Mmm… Chicken sounds good. I like it a lot too. I think I may know a place we can go.”
“Awesome then. I guess I’ll just take some time to wake myself up a bit and then we’ll be on our way.”
Once I get my bearings and make my way to the living room, I find Misty sitting and reading a fashion magazine whilst waiting for me.
⁂
We arrive at my apartment, and I step inside to find some clean, fresh, and nicer-looking clothes to put on before leaving and hopping back into Misty's car. Once I have my seat belt on, we're off to our next destination.
“You look nice,” Misty compliments my blue-and-red plaid shirt.
“Thanks. Oh, and I forgot to ask—what restaurant did you decide on?”
“I thought that KFC would be nice, since we both agreed that we like chicken.”
I'm excited that Misty chose Kentucky Fried Chicken, which is one of my favorite places to eat. I wasn't expecting her to choose something like that, but since this isn't a formal outing, it's not a big deal anyway. I'm more than happy to go to KFC because I don't pay attention to what anyone else would think or do; I'd be willing to bet Misty feels the same way. I've been to KFC many times with Andy, but we always ordered our meals to go and enjoyed them either at his house or at my apartment. Perhaps now is the time that Misty will change that and help me overcome my uneasiness with eating in front of others.
During the brief drive, I stare out the window, watching street lights and car headlights flash by on the road, and soon, we arrive at our local KFC. I have my arm around Misty as we walk toward the entrance. As we walk inside, I can smell the characteristic aroma of fried chicken coming from the kitchen almost instantly. My mind has been so preoccupied with the gorgeous Misty right next to me that I haven't even thought about what I'd like to order. We're greeted by a friendly individual standing behind the counter.
“Hello. What can I get for you two today?”
“Do you think we should get an eight-piece bucket of extra-crispy fried chicken?” Misty turns to me and asks for my input.
“That sounds fine to me,” I reply.
“Would you like that as a meal?” the person taking our order asks.
“What does the meal come with?” I answer with a follow-up question.
“It comes with two large sides and four biscuits,” he explains.
“Alright, let's do that then. I'll have the potato wedges for my side,” I respond.
“I'll have mashed potatoes for the second side,” Misty chimes in.
“I'd also like a medium drink with that,” I add.
“You know what? I think I'll have a medium drink as well,” Misty decides.
The man at the register asks if that'll be all for us, and when we confirm that it is, he announces the total, and Misty reaches into her purse, handing him her debit card. Misty's card is then handed back to her after being swiped through the reader.
“Alright, your order will be ready soon,” he says, handing us drink cups in the size we requested.
We both decide to fill our cups with Coca-Cola at the drink-filling station nearby. We then find an empty table near a window and sit down across from each other as we wait for our food to be brought out to us.
“So what do you like to do in your free time?” I ask, looking at Misty.
“Hmmm… I'd say my favorite thing to do is draw. Other than that, I like shopping for new clothes, and I also occasionally do yoga,” she replies, taking a sip of her delicious, ice-cold Coca-Cola.
“Drawing is pretty cool. I like it too, even though I'm not that good at it. I should've figured you're good at drawing—the way you made those neat decorations on our sandcastle.”
“My job as a fashion designer involves a lot of drawing, which is the main reason I decided to go into that field.”
“That makes sense. I'd be interested to see you show me how you draw sometime,” I suggest.
“Yeah, that'd be something fun we can do together!”
We chat about out mutual interest in pencil drawing for a few more minutes before our meal is ready and brought to our table. It looks very fresh, and steam is rising from the top of the paper bucket containing the crispy chicken.
“It's pretty hot. We should wait a few minutes for the chicken to cool down,” Misty says.
“These potato wedges are really tasty,” I remark as we begin to dig into the other things in the meal.
“Mmm… And these mashed potatoes are great,” she comments.
“Potatoes are just awesome in general, aren't they?”
“Yeah, they definitely are.”
In a few minutes, once the chicken cools down to a reasonable level, we begin eating it too.
“This is extremely good!” I say as soon as I take a bite of that crunchy, juicy chicken.
“You're totally right. It's sooo good!” Misty says, looking right at me.
I've all but completely forgotten about my fear of eating out in front of other people at this point, partially because Misty is around to distract me from it. As it turns out, I was worried for no reason at all because there isn't even another person here right now. That's usually the way it is with fast-food places during the evening hours. We each get through three pieces of chicken, two biscuits, and our respective sides before neither of us can eat another bite.
“I guess we should take the last two pieces of chicken to go. You can put them in your fridge and eat them later—or we can share them,” I suggest.
“Good idea. We can heat them up again next time I invite you to my place,” Misty replies.
We ask for a to-go box so that Misty can save the chicken for next time and then she drives me back to my apartment. Once we're there, she escorts me to my front door, and we stand in front of it, with her staring into my eyes. Even though it's dark outside at this hour, there's enough lighting around that I can see her pretty face, especially the reflection coming off the brightest part of her eyes.
“That was really nice of you to pay for dinner tonight,” I thank Misty.
“Oh, it was nothing really. I've had such an amazing time with you these last few days, and we'll get together again real soon. I promise,” she says, wrapping her arms around me.
I, likewise, put my arms around Misty, pulling her close to me, and she rests her head on my shoulder; I could hold her like this forever. The delicate fragrance of shampoo in her hair smells so good. I gently rub her back for a few minutes, and she kisses me on the cheek several times with her soft pink lips, leaving a few faint lipstick marks, before she has to go. From the driver's seat of her car, she waves and blows me another kiss before going off into the distance.