NaNoWriMo Excerpt: Our First Date

I told myself I was going to participate in NaNoWriMo this month. I was gung-ho, but in typical fashion, when I realized how difficult it actually is to write 50,000 words, I quickly abandoned my goal. I don't know if I'll ever be a published author. Frankly, I just don't think I have the discipline for it. But a girl can dream, right?

This was my initial effort at writing my story. Comments, constructive criticism and/or enthusiastic statements of praise are all more than welcome...

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It was 10:00 AM on a chilly Sunday morning in December. My mattress on the floor of my second story, brick apartment was pressed up against the window overlooking an expansive, but rickety balcony. My previously straightened brunette hair was disheveled and I was the exact kind of exhausted that only results from a late, drunken night. I had promised my gay best friend, Mark* we would meet for breakfast at 10:00 AM. With a groan, I firmly decided it was not going to happen.

I quickly sent him a text message, "Raincheck on breakfast? Too hungover."

Collapsing back into the pile of crumpled pillows and sheets, I was completely contented by the idea of spending the rest of the day in bed. I pulled up the hood of my favorite college sweatshirt and wiggled further into the warm embraces of the cocoon I'd awoken in. Not bothering to place my smart phone where I usually kept it atop my nightstand, I lazily pushed aside a pile of books beside my bed to make just enough room to casually throw the phone aside.

I was slowly drifting back into a solid slumber when the beep of a text message alert stirred me out of it. Irritated, but wanting to remain in Mark's good graces, I rolled over to read, "Good morning. How are you feeling?"

 It wasn't Mark.

It was in fact the adorable, muscled blonde I had spent the latter part of my night flirting with. Butterflies swarmed my stomach as I recalled our night together. The moment when I reassured him I was coming back to our mutual friends' Ugly Christmas Sweater Party from a quick liquor run; and the consequent moment when I realized he was interested in me. The hours spent on the cigarette-burned, shabby sofa in the living room of the after party I'd found myself genuinely enjoying at 4:00 AM. And of course, the cheesy line he had recited, "I think this is necessary," right before he leaned in for our first kiss. He had watched me slowly climb the decrepit, wooden stairs leading to my balcony. The alcohol was wearing off, but the steepness of the warped planks caused me to stumble once or twice before I reached my front door. I flashed him a quick smile as he turned around, growing smaller under the light of the snow-covered streetlamps.

Snapping myself back to reality, I realized I had a huge smile on her face. I wrote back, "Feeling rough. How about you? :)"

"Feeling alright. Could use some coffee though. Would you like to join me?"

"Yes!" I wanted to scream. But we'd only just met last night and I had to play it cool. Besides, agreeing to meet him for coffee when I'd just bailed on Mark put me in the World's Shittiest Friend category.

I sent him a casual reply and we agreed to meet at the local pub just a block away from my apartment. I threw on the salt-stained, furry boots that had adorned my feet last night when we jogged home together from the after party. I was at the peak of my physical fitness and I had hoped in my drunken stupor, that running through the slippery, winter slush would impress him. He kept pace while I imagine, trying to accomplish a similar goal.

I drug myself into the recesses of my slope-ceilinged bathroom to splash some cold water on my face. Gazing into the mirror, my bloodshot eyes and smeared mascara mocked my attempts to look presentable to the guy I was certain was someone I would soon begin a relationship with. With a quick swipe of my eye liner residue, and a fresh application of mascara I just about bolted to the front door. Haphazardly grabbing my purse, and bracing myself for the cruel winter chill, I mentally prepared myself for my first date with the man I'd been waiting my whole life for.