Chapter 8
My Blonde Angel
I'm woken up by the sound of light kisses; it's Misty, and she's planting them repeatedly on my cheek.
“Ready for ice cream?” she asks quietly once she sees my eyes open.
“I'm ready now. Can we go to Baskin-Robbins?” I answer in a somewhat sleepy voice as I get up and stretch.
“Awesome, I was going to suggest Baskin-Robbins too! I'll grab my things and we can go.”
After a ten-minute drive, we arrive at our local ice-cream parlor of choice and begin looking at the menu, thinking about what to order.
“All of this stuff looks so good that I'm having trouble deciding,” I comment.
“I know—everything looks really yummy!”
“Are you two ready to order?” a woman coming up to the register asks us after about a minute of thinking.
“Yeah, I'll have the Made with M&M's Soft Serve Parfait,” Misty replies once she and I agree that we've decided.
“And for you, sir?” she asks after pushing a few buttons on the computer, presumably adding the order to a queue.
“I'd like an OREO Layered Sundae,” I respond.
She pushes a few more buttons, the total is paid, and we're informed that our order will be brought out to us shortly. Misty and I sit at an empty table near a window, and she starts a conversation by asking me a question.
“Do you like doing arts-and-crafts projects of any kind?”
“I guess I don't do stuff like that too often, but I have actually been working on a pretty cool spiral lanyard made of sixteen strings lately,” I answer.
“Oh, lanyards—those are the keychain things made of plastic strings, right? I think I've made one of those before.”
“Yeah, pretty much. Making one out of that many strings is exceptionally difficult though, so it's not an ordinary lanyard.”
“You'll have to show it to me sometime then,” Misty says with an intrigued look.
“I could invite you to my apartment at some point later on,” I suggest.
Misty starts playing with her hair, twirling a few strands of it in her fingers; I always find it so adorable whenever she does that. About three minutes later, the ice cream arrives at our table. The treats look just as delicious as I would've expect from the menu images. I take a hefty scoop of my OREO Layered Sundae and eat it. The crunchy OREO bits are the perfect complement to the cold, fresh ice cream on this hot summer day.
“Wow, this is very good! How is yours?” I ask Misty.
“It's so delicious! Yours also looks really good. Can I try a bite?”
“Go ahead. And can I also try your M&M parfait thing?”
“Mmm… I love yours too!” Misty says after we temporarily switch ice cream with each other.
“I really like the M&M's mixed into yours also.”
Once we've had a taste of each other's ice cream, we return to eating our own. Whenever I look at Misty, it makes me feel good inside seeing her happy and enjoying herself like this.
A few minutes later, I see Andy walk into the store and spot us; he also must want something cold to eat on this hot day, and I certainly can't blame him for that.
“Hey there! Didn't expect to see you here,” he greets me.
“Nice to see you too. What's up, buddy?” I reply to him. “Come join us at our table,” I offer.
Andy orders himself a simple vanilla ice-cream cone and then takes a seat next to me.
“Who's this lovely lady?” he asks.
“Remember Misty from the night club?” I answer.
“Oh, yeah—that's right! You told me about her. I remember now,” he says. “Well, since we're all together today, maybe we could do something,” Andy suggests once he and Misty have exchanged introductions.
“Sure, I'm down to go somewhere,” I reply.
“What did you have in mind?” Misty asks him.
“Perhaps we could go bowling,” Andy responds once he's thought about it for a few seconds.
“Bowling would be nice. What about you, Misty? Does that idea sound good to you?” I ask her.
“Sounds like fun! I haven't been bowling in a while, now that I think about it,” she answers.
“I haven't either, so I might not be very good at it, but that's alright,” I say.
All three of us finish our ice-cream treats before we drive to the bowling alley. I go with Misty in her car, and Andy goes by himself in his car.
⁂
When we arrive, Andy agrees to pay for everyone. The person behind the counter asks us how many games we'd you like to play, and we decide amongst ourselves that two games should be enough. After we state the sizes for our bowling shoes, we try them on, and upon being satisfied with their fit, we each then move on to pick a bowling ball. Misty and I both choose lighter balls, and Andy gets himself a heavier one.
“I wonder if using a heavier ball will make it easier to knock more of the pins down,” Andy questions.
Maybe he has a point there, but even the lightest ball seems relatively heavy to me. I figure they've all been designed to be plenty heavy and equally effective, so I mostly focus on color instead. I get a lime-green ball, Misty a turquoise-blue one, and Andy a dark-red one. The three colors we choose are all really vibrant, and I think they look very nice together.
Once all of that business is out of the way, we make our way over to the main attraction: the bowling lanes, which are more brightly lit than the previous few areas. There is, however, one more thing to take care of before we begin the game proper. We each enter our name into a computer in order to keep track of our scores. The bowling order is determined by the order in which the names are entered on the computer.
“Alright, looks like I'm going first,” Andy declares.
He walks up to the lane and rolls the ball, knocking down seven pins. Then, for his second turn, he knocks down two additional pins, almost earning a spare.
“Not bad!” Misty comments.
After that, it's Misty's turn to make her two rolls, and she ends up getting six pins down on her first and then two on the second. Now, since it's my turn, I retrieve my bowling ball from the machine and execute two rolls, making an effort to keep the ball in the center and away from the gutters. It veers off course to the side, almost rolling into the gutter, but it prevails, so I still manage to get four pins down as well as three more the second time.
Now that the three of us have each taken a turn, the first frame is completed and the next one begins. We continue with this cycle until both of our bowling games are completed, taking a short break in between the two to grab something from the soda machine. We thoroughly enjoy ourselves, and nobody cares too much about what the final scores are at the end. I may not be especially good at bowling, but I did the very best I could, and that's all anyone can really ever ask of me.
“Hey, can you take a picture of the two of us on my phone?” Misty asks, referring to herself and me, shortly before we're all about to leave.
We stand side by side, with our arms around each other, and Andy snaps a photo using Misty's cell phone.
“I like the way our first picture together came out. Can you send it to me also?” I request.
Misty transfers the photograph to me using the Bluetooth radios in our devices and then we head out the door.
“It was nice meeting you, Misty. Well, alright—I'll see you guys later,” Andy says to us before making his way to his car.
⁂
Misty and I decide to go back to her house, and she says that she'll show me some of her drawings. When we arrive, I take a seat on the beige couch as Misty goes to retrieve the items she wants me to see, returning with a folder which appears to be full of paper. She begins going through the collection and showing me her favorite pieces.
“Oh, here's one I did just last week,” she says, showing me a pencil drawing of a forest.
“Wow! That's very impressive, and it's even done in full color.”
“Thanks!” Misty resp
onds, moving on to another item.
“I actually like this one a lot too,” she says about the next drawing she pulls out, which is a self-portrait.
“Even in black and white and on an eight-by-eleven sheet of paper, you still look so beautiful, baby,” I compliment her and the picture, holding it carefully to inspect the lines more closely.
“Awww, thank you,” she replies, a faint pink blush becoming visible on her cheeks.
In the drawing, she looks seductively at the viewer whilst lying on a sandy beach. It's so realistic that it almost looks like a photograph, reminding me of when we went to the beach the other day. I never really could understand how some people can manage to create drawings that are so realistic.
“Can you show me how you draw? I'm curious to see the process,” I say to Misty.
“Sure! What do you want me to draw?”
“Hmmm… Can you draw a car? That sounds like something that'd be really tough to do accurately,” I answer after thinking about it for a moment.
She picks up a mechanical pencil that's lying on the table and gets a blank sheet of paper. I watch as Misty first begins loosely sketching the basic outline of the vehicle. The movements of her hands are very gentle and graceful but also extremely precise. I take note of the fact that she isn't using any sort of reference, such as a photograph; she's relying on her own memory and imagination.
“What type of car is this going to be?” I ask.
“I think we'll make it a Lamborghini.”
I continue looking on as Misty starts rendering some of the more specific details, like the windshield, fenders, and wheels.
“Oh, yeah—I was going to ask you this before: What type of car is yours?” I ask her.
“Mine? It's a Mercedes-Benz.”
“Cool. I think Andy has a Mercedes also.”
For the next step of the drawing, after she builds up some more details, she begins shading what will become the darkest parts of the image.
“I find it easier to do the shading by starting with the darkest tones and then adding in the lighter ones,” she explains.
After adding additional details, shading some more, and giving it a shadow, the drawing is ready.
“There you go. Maybe it's not perfect, but I think it turned out pretty good,” Misty says as she holds up the completed drawing for me.
“I have no idea what you mean by 'not perfect.' I think it looks awesome!” I cheer.
“Here—you can have it if you'd like,” she offers in a friendly tone, signing her name in the corner.
“Alright, thanks! Leave it here for time being, and I'll be sure to take it with me later on.”
She sets it down on the table and then we look at a few more of her other drawings together. Afterward, once we're done, she puts the folder containing them back into storage and suggests we relax by watching some television.
I get excited when I see that my favorite show—King of the Hill—is on. Tonight's episode is called “Old Glory,” which also happens to be one of my all-time favorites. Only a few seconds into the program, the sound of thunder booms outside, followed by light rain. Because Misty is close to me, I can feel that she's a little bit startled by how loud it is.
“I'm surprised it's raining at all today because it was so sunny this morning. I guess that's just the way it is sometimes,” Misty comments.
“It's probably going to be raining for a while, so maybe I should stay here tonight,” I suggest.
“You're more than welcome to do so, hon,” Misty agrees warmly.
“Wouldn't want to be walking or driving in this type of weather,” I remark as I hear the sound of rain pelting the ground outside more vigorously.
About two minutes into the program, I begin laughing about something I see on the screen.
“What's so funny?” Misty asks, starting to join me in laughter herself.
“That blonde character kind of looks like an animated version of you!”
“I think you're right actually!”
Once we have our fill of television, it starts to get late, and Misty suggests we turn in for the night.
“I'm getting sleepy now… Do you want to come to bed and cuddle with me?”
We make our way to her room and get ready for bed. Misty puts on her pajamas, which are a relaxing shade of bright purple and are covered in white polka dots. I change into something lighter as well and lie down on the bed, waiting for her.
Misty climbs in, lying down next to me. She sets the lamp, located on her side, to a dimmer setting, but it's still bright enough in the room that we can see around. She moves closer to me, and I wrap my arms around her. Now we're close enough that both of us can hear the sound of each other's breathing.
After a while, I can see that Misty is very tired and can barely keep her eyes open. While she's staring at me, with her eyes already three-fourths closed, an exceedingly loud lightning noise roars outside, and the window lights up like the flash from a camera. Misty lets out a tiny gasp in surprise, and I squeeze her even closer to me as a sign of protection. She closes her eyes and rests her head on my chest, a few strands of her blonde hair tickling my neck.
“You're so warm and soft, and I can hear the sound of your pulse; it's sooo relaxing…” Misty says quietly.
“I'm glad you're comfortable too, baby,” I whisper back.
As I start slowly rubbing her back through the soft fabric of her pajamas, she lets out a soft little moan of pleasure. The best part of snuggling with Misty is knowing that I can make her feel so cared for. Soon, I begin getting sleepy myself.
“Good night, my blonde angel,” I tell Misty, lightly kissing the top of her head.
That's when I notice that she's already asleep in my arms.