64
- "'The' Date." |Part I|
"Where should I drive?" Seneca asks, turning to me with an excited grin, once we're all buckled up and ready to go.
"Um." My cheeks heat up in embarrassment because I wanted it to be a surprise, and now, the fact that I don't know how to drive—despite being eighteen freaking years old—has forced me in a situation to disclose that detail.
"How about I give the directions?" I look at her hopefully, and she considers it for a second in silence. She then nods in agreement, and I take solace in the fact that at least a semblance of surprise will be remaining. She might not know the human city that well, to guess where we're going to.
A guy can hope.
"Okay..." She sighs and pulls the car into drive, following my instructions.
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"Where are we going?" Seneca repeats the question for what seems like the millionth time, being surprisingly persistent and anxious about it.