Bad Advice

My hands trembled. I can’t believe it. Those words kept playing like a broken record in my head.
“You want to go out?” That’s what Zack, my new – um – only boyfriend, said. Why did he agree to go out with me? I’m Nina the nobody. All throughout school, no guy wanted me. Yet now, at 20 years old, someone wanted me? This can’t be real. Ring. Ring. It’s my phone.

“Hey, Nina, it’s your girl Emily here. What’s up?” It’s Emily, my childhood friend.

“N-nothing special.” I glanced around my bedroom.

“I know you’re lying,” she giggled.

“W-what? No! I’m honest. I’m busy. You know, at my dead-end retail job.” I sighed. “...while I try to make it as a writer.”

“First off, stop beating yourself up. Second, who’s the guy?”

I blushed. “H-how did you find out?”

“I have my ways,” she teased.

“No fair!” I clutched Mr. Quackers, my childhood plush.

“Word of advice: agree with whatever he says.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. Boys love it when you agree with them.”

I buried my head in my pillow. “But what if I don’t want to?”

“Who has more years of experience dating? You or me?”

I groaned. “You do.”

“And that’s the end of Emily’s Advice Corner. If you like my content, make sure to like, follow, and subscribe for more!”

“Emily,” I chuckled, “what was that?”

“Oh? Oh! Sorry. I must’ve gone into YouTuber mode. Bye!” She hung up the phone before I could say bye.

Sitting up from my bed, I brushed my brown hair out of my eyes. Was Emily right? Should I agree with whatever Zack said? Ding-dong. My eyes traveled to my duck-shaped clock above my dresser. It read 7 a.m. Time for work.

I squealed at the crack of dawn. My first girlfriend!

“Zack, my man.” My roommate waved to me across the hall.

“Johnny!” Johnny and I have known each other for years, but he is an odd guy.

“It’s THE Johnny.” Johnny popped the collar of his black biker jacket. I rolled my eyes.

“I have a girlfriend!” Johnny wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close.

“A dame? Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“Why are you talking like you are from the 1950s? Is this your new personality?”

“Don’t question THE Johnny.” He shoved a lollipop into his mouth. “Tell me about your girl.”

My eyes lit up. “Her name is Nina. She is 20 years old, and she lives with her grandmother. Finally, she wants to become a writer.” Johnny, with his eyes closed, nodded along.

“I see. I see. You got yourself a thinking chick. That’s dangerous, my friend.” My body deflated.

“Dangerous?”

“Yeah. Women who write? They be thinking. You can’t have that!” He combed his pompadour with a switchblade comb.

“I-I can’t?”

“Nah, but your old friend”—pounding his chest—“THE Johnny will help.”

“B-but I like that about her,” I interjected, but Johnny shook his head.

“Trust me.” Sucking on his lollipop, he continued, “It’s not too late.”

“Not too late?”

“Yeah. You got to be stoic.”

“Stoic?”

“Yeah. Those thinking types have a weakness.” He leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “They overthink.”

“Overthink?”

“What are you, a parrot?” He backhanded my chest. “I’ve dated hundreds of girls, so I know the psychology of women.”

“I guess.” The world seemed confusing. “But I could try.” Johnny patted my back.

“There you go!” Buzz. Buzz. The alarm on my wristwatch went off. Time for work.

Ahead was the dead-end retail job. McCrappy, as we called it. Someday my writing career will take off. Maybe. Pulling into a stop, the car shook. In an instant, I put the car in park and turned off the car. That’s weird. This used car was fine until now, but now it’s acting like a lemon. Ugh. It’s not like this job pays enough for a new car.

Getting out, each step made my body shake. It must be my nerves. Heading inside, there was Zack at customer service. He must’ve had the opening shift today, which sucks. Customers are always worst in the morning. They try to shop before they head to work, but they end up rushing and making mistakes. This means Zack has to deal with it.

Still, today it was empty. That means more time for Zack and me! I can’t wait to hear a new thing he discovered. He is always so cute when he gets passionate about a subject.

“Hey, Zackie. Zack Attack.” I used my fingers like guns.

“What was that?” A monotone voice.

“You know. Since we are together, I thought we should have pet names.” I rubbed my arm. “But if you don’t want that, that’s okay.” Did I do something wrong already? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“No pet names.” I remembered what Emily said.

“So, what do you want to do tonight?” He paused and stared.

“You want to go to the movies?”

“Yes. I love movies. Movies are my favorite! Did you know my first word was movie?” What are you saying, Nina? Books are way better.

“You want to see Blood Slasher 3000?” His eyes lit up. My legs wobbled.

“B-Blood Slasher 3000?”

“Yeah! It’s playing in theaters! I enjoy slasher movies!”

“O-oh? You do? W-Well,” I faked a smile, “I love slasher movies!”

“You do? Oh my gosh! What’s your favorite slasher movie?” His body was like a shaken, unopened soda can.

“Um...” I tapped my finger against my chin. “...I think Blood Slasher 2000 was good.” Zack paused, took a deep breath, and nodded.

“Ah. A true classic. I didn’t take you for the slasher type, but I guess that’s why we click.” His monotone returned.

“Well, it’s a date.” I gave him finger guns as I walked away. Should I have done that? Maybe Zack thinks I’m weird. Speaking of weird, Zack has been acting weird. First he was monotone, then he switched to his excited self, followed by returning to his monotone. Could Zack be bipolar? That thought can wait, because tonight is a date!