You & I

So as it turns out, I'm a big fan of dates. At least when they're organized by a cute guy named Jackson.

Jackson had picked me up outside my apartment at six, just as he said he would. He looked good, really good. Although I think I'm biased when it comes to people in checkered flannel shirts. And he'd shaved, which somehow put him on a different level of attractiveness. I hadn't been expecting that.

Some of the earlier nerves had disappeared by then. Especially since Jackson had called me earlier in the day to casually recommend I wear something comfortable. Easy to move in as he put it. I don't know what the 'normal' reaction to this call is supposed to be, but I'm not going to lie - I was relieved. It meant we weren't going to some fancy restaurant that served disturbing dishes, with a menu written in french to confuse the unsuspecting. That way you didn't know you had eaten snail entrails and a pony until it was too late to discreetly spit it out into a napkin.

My relief was short lived, swiftly evaporating when after a thirty minute drive, Jackson pulled up outside a warehouse in the middle of nowhere.

Had I agreed to a date with a serial killer?

The look on my face must have said it all because with a chuckle Jackson told me to trust him and follow him inside. There was a moment when I planned out a whole escape routine in my head - including where to best hit him, just in case I needed to get away. But once we were inside and I looked around I burst in to laughter. Turns out Jackson had brought me to an indoor paintballing center.

I'd only ever been paintballing once before. It was for some kids birthday party when I was 15. It had been brutal (I got shot four times) but awesome (I blame the adrenaline rush for making me go in to warrior mode and taking down three other kids before I was caught) Either way, the paintballing was definitely an ice breaker. Jackson told me that he had originally intended to take me to watch his friends band play in a bar downtown, but we wouldn't have been able to talk over the music. Apparently he wouldn't have chanced something as risky as paintballing, but I seemed like the kind of girl who would appreciate out of the box thinking.

I did. First point to Jackson.

"You have an unfair advantage." I said to him as we pulled our very attractive jumpsuits on to protect our clothes.

"Do I?"

"Look at the size of you," I complained. "Whilst I'm just a tiny girl." Ok I was trying to make him feel sorry for me in an attempt to turn the battle in my favour before it had even begun.

"If that's your reasoning then the advantage is yours," Jackson grinned. "There's more of me then you, meaning more for you to hit."

"Damn, that is true."

"I'll still promise to go easy on you."

- Fast forward twenty minutes to when Jackson accidentally shot me in the ass. In the ass.

"I'm so sorry!" He exclaimed. It would have been a more believable apology had he not started laughing straight afterwards.

So I shot him in the foot without thinking twice.
I think it took us both by surprise. Me, because I'm not a violent person (apart from when it comes to paintballing wars it seems) and I'm really too much of a pansy to physically hurt someone. Not when I can mentally destroy them! Ok, I'm bad at that too, I rely on wit alone.

Jackson wore a look of pure shock. I don't think I hurt him, but he would mourn the loss of a good pair of sneakers. He looked from me to his shoes, then back up to me, and started to walk slowly towards me.

"I'm sorry," I gushed quickly, my back hitting a paint splattered barrel which was used for cover during a game.

"You don't look very sorry," Jackson said, boxing me in.

Whoa, he is a big guy.

"You shot me first!" I pointed out, aware of how childish it sounded.

"That was an accident, you shot me on purpose." Jackson had this intensely fierce look on his face. Like he was going to throw me over his shoulder and carry me out back into the woods. It was a bit scary, and weirdly thrilling. It was those intense, beautiful blue eyes at the route of it all.

I couldn't help it then, as in any awkward or nervous situation, I let out a laugh - and he kissed me.

He caught me off guard, but I found myself kissing back anyway. Jackson knew exactly what he was doing, and he smelt so damn good. In one way it just felt right. It was uncomplicated and in the moment. The fact that up until this point I'd had more bad kisses than good worked in his favour. There was no blind groping now, or an attempt to eat my face. It was slow and sweet - and I was getting in to dangerous territory if I didn't stop him.

It was Jackson who pulled away first, just enough to let us both breath freely. One of my hands had found it's way to his chest and I was glad that there was at least two layers of clothing separating my hand from bare skin.

I bet he's got one of those chests that's muscular without being freak-show big-

"Grace, are you ok?" Jackson asked. I don't have a clue what he was reading on my face, but he probably thought I regretted that kiss. Truth is, I was now confused as hell. I had secretly hoped he would be an asshole and the date would be a disaster so that I could write off the whole experience as a 'hey, at least I tried' moment. The added bonus being that it would also shut Tara up.

Why did Jackson have to be so...so...geez.
I couldn't stop my mind from flickering to the image of Chris. It was his stupid fault I was confused, when I should have just been happy that a cool guy was interested in me.

No. I could get over this Chris crush, and seeing how unfazed he was when he met Jackson would be an end to it all. And as Melody would probably be at this party I wouldn't need further convincing that there was nothing between us right?

This is the problem in romcoms. The main character always chases after the unavailable hot guy, instead of the nice guy (who somehow is also hot in modern movies), until they have that moment of realization right at the end of the movie. But even with a happy ending, someone gets hurt along the way. Unless it's a Meg Ryan/Tom Hanks movie.

Clearly I wasn't thinking straight when I looked up at Jackson.
"Do you want to go to a party?"