Final Delivery

Close to a week went by before I received a call from Gerard. I was actually finishing up on some photos of the band when he called. “Aloha,” I said into the phone. It was custom for me to say hello in a different way than normal.

“H-hi, this is Dahlia right?” Gerard asked me, stuttering.

“The one and only,” I responded curling a strand of hair around my finger.

“It’s Gerard,” he said, his voice still shaky.

“Hey, how’re you doin’?” I leaned back in my office chair.

“I’m doing fine. I was wondering if you would like to get a bite to eat tonight. Nothing fancy or anything like that, but um…yeah…” He trailed off causing me to giggle.

“Sure, that would great.” I smiled even though no one could see me.

“I’ll pick you up around seven then? Wait before that, where do you live?”

"Down in Alphabet City on Avenue A. I'm at building 409, fifth floor, third door to the right," I riddled off to him. I heard him give a light laugh.

"Alright, so I'll see you at seven?"

"I'll see you at seven." The call ended and I spun around in my chair. I let out a holler of triumph. "I'm going on a date! I'm going on a date! Oh yeah, score one for Dahlia," I sang in victory. The chair stopped spinning and I stood up. "Holy shit, what am I going to wear?!?"

After rummaging tirelessly, I gave up on finding an outfit myself and called Greg. He was over in a flash and was being persistent on me wearing yellow.

"Yellow is in my little flower," he said calling me by my pet name. He spun around holding up a bright yellow shirt with a cupcake on it.

"Yet, yellow with this green, Greg? I'll look like a fucked up Sprite can!" I kicked my leg out showing him my muted lime green skinny jeans.

"Dahlia it will look amazing. Be lucky you have the boobs to fill this shirt out because I sure as hell don't," he said pulling the shirt over my head. Greg fixed it into place and ruffled my hair a bit. "You look gorgeous!"

I walked over to my full length mirror and saw myself. “I don’t look half bad,” I said admiring my outfit.

“See what I mean? Now who puts together the best outfits?” Greg asked.

“You do Greg,” I said letting him have his moment of glory. I grabbed my yellow Converse and slipped them on. My whole outfit soon came together and it was now six fifty five. My phone began to ring. “Hello?” I asked.

“Look out your window,” a voice said.

I rushed to my window and saw Gerard sitting on the hood of his car. He smiled up at me and waved. I soon spun around and rushed out the door with my bag. “Bye Greg,” I yelled out to him. I ran downstairs and out the door.

“Hey Dahlia,” Gerard greeted.

“Hi,” I said back to him.

“Ready to go?”

“Definitely.”