Short pitch: Your first date is something you'd want to remember. Their blunder of a first date is probably better off left forgotten.
Long pitch (draft): In a first date filled with untimely embraces, awkward silences, accidental blunders, and mortifying discussions—all Jane really wanted that night was to get her first kiss. But instead she gets an unforgettable evening of utter humiliation.
* * *
From the moment Emeril and Jane laid eyes on each other they knew they were meant to be. Jane had been a pudgy, stout shamelessly nerdy sixteen-year-old girl. Emeril was considered a “dolt”, and was never the brightest of fellows; yet this techie manages to maintain straight A’s. Budding a romantic relationship, the last thing Jane wanted was to have her heart broken; suddenly growing wary of the consequences of falling in love. So what happens when you take a shy geeky girl and an unconventional dolt and put them together in a fancy restaurant? The perfect elixir for a two-bit, and not to mention corruptive first date.
EXCERPT:
I’ve been waiting far, far too long to asked on a date by Emeril. Sure, we’ve been going out for five months—but does that matter anymore? Because all of our encounters just consisted of a few quick pecks on the cheek, a hug, an awkward silence, and an untimely departure. I’m afraid I’m going nowhere with this boy, whose apparently too blind to see I wanted something different for a change.
I mean, I thought falling in love would be different. At least on television they make love seem so easy. Sure, the guy might break the girl’s heart (sometimes vise versa), the guy wants her back after realizing she’s “the one” (whatever that’s supposed to mean), the broken hearts mends, and the couple always get back together in the end to live “happily-ever-after”. What a load of clichéd crap.
Then again, I was sixteen. Falling in love was considered the “teenage dream”. Hey, what girl wouldn’t want to be given free compliments and two-bit dinners from a guy you hardly even know? Not to mention, all that endearing affection you’d get from him. Unlucky for me, Emeril was never that type of guy.
For high school, like any other girl, I had only two things in mind: my first kiss and prom. As embarrassing as this was, I never had my first kiss. A boyfriend especially. And if that wasn’t enough, I was always reminded of the fact that I was single thanks to those happy-go-lucky couples striding hand-in-hand through the hallways. And the mere thought of that girl—who could very well be me interlacing my fingers in his—made me gag. Sure, you promise you’ll have his heart forever—but how long does forever even last in high school? Four years at the very least. And in a blink of an eye you’re departing for college. Then what? Forever seemed to be nothing more than a sprinkled deception of the true meaning behind the word: temporary. Keeping that in mind through my high school years, I promised myself I’d never—never—let a boy have a key to my heart. Never.
Emeril and I, before we started dating, were on speaking terms. I guess, in a sense, you could say we were…friends, even. Outcasts attract to other outcasts, it seemed. And he was kinda cute I have to admit. So, maybe he was a little too tall for my taste. Mm, maybe a little…too skinny as well. And not to mention, geeky. Though, I can’t really complain, since on some level I was considered “geeky” as well.
But the last thing I wanted was to be his…girlfriend. The thought of it even made me shiver. Just because he was my partner in science third period, didn’t give him the right to ask me out. Period. But me being me, I said yes to him anyways. I guess I was just that kind of girl.
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