Date of the century.

I was checking my reflection in the bathroom mirror for the third time when the doorbell rang. I'd taken Kat's playful teasing to heart and done my best to switch up my usual jeans and T-shirt for an actual pair of dress pants and a button-up shirt.

“Honey, you have a friend here,” I heard Mom calling from the other end of the house.

I turned off the bathroom light and went to meet Kat.

As I stepped into the family area, I found Mom chatting with Kat. I was taken aback when I saw what she had worn for the evening.

“Well, look at you,” my mom said on seeing me. “Someone's made an effort.”

“Don't start,” I groaned.

“I haven't said anything.”

“You're thinking it.” Mom can be so annoying.

“I was just telling Katherine here that she looks so lovely.”

Kat was dressed in a pink spaghetti-strapped corset top made out of sheer lace. She’d paired it with a plain black tight mini skirt and black strappy heels. She looked incredible. I’d never really seen her outside of what she used to wear to school and a few times at parties. This was something else. I tried not to stare, but Kat had developed the most fantastic pair of tits that she’d only ever kept hidden until that point.

“Wow. You look amazing, Kat,” I echoed what my mom had just said.

Kat gave me a pleased-with-herself smile, tucking her arms behind her back to show herself off more fully.

“And I see you own something other than concert merch. That was a big effort,” Kat told me, which I thought was a compliment.

“Shall we go?” I asked Kat, ready to get away from my mom’s overbearing presence.

She nodded, and I was about to leave.

“Wait. I want to see them before they go on their date.”

I heard the voice and knew it was Heather without having to turn around. Especially by the way she emphasised the word date. I rolled my eyes and turned around, seeing not just my sister but Trish standing next to her in the doorway to the rear of the house. Trish hadn’t left yet!

“Trish, did you know my brother had a date for tonight. Oh yes, he’s had it planned all the way since Saturday.”

Heather wore the sort of smug expression that made me immediately suspicious. Trish, on the other hand, I couldn’t read the look on her face.

“Wow,” Heather said, looking me up and down. “This must be important to you. You really have made an effort.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Because it’s true.” She turned to Kat. “Doesn’t he look handsome?”

Kat smiled. “He does, actually.”

I felt myself blushing, which only made Heather’s grin widen and the mocking to come worse.

“Careful, Kat. If you keep complimenting him, he’ll think he can get away with wearing that shirt to every occasion.”

“I’m standing right here,” I reminded her.

“We know.”

Mom laughed, while Kat slipped her hand into mine. It was a small gesture, and I suddenly felt emboldened by it. This was just a first date, after all, but I didn’t want it to fall apart before we’d even left the house.

“Well, we should probably get going,” I said.

“Of course,” Heather replied. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your romantic evening.”

She paused, then added, far too casually, “Rebecca told me all about it, by the way.”

Kat’s smile faltered. “She did?” she asked.

“Yesterday. She seemed really pleased that you two were finally going out. Said it was about time she got you together.”

The words landed with an awkwardness that Heather either didn’t notice or chose to ignore. Kat glanced at me. I could feel her hand tighten around mine.

“Rebecca didn’t get us together,” she said. “He asked me out.”

“Oh, I know,” Heather said. “I just meant Rebecca was happy about it. She said she’d be looking forward to hearing all about your date.”

“Right,” Kat said.

Her expression was difficult to read, but the excitement I’d seen when she arrived had dimmed. I wanted to tell her that Rebecca had nothing to do with tonight, that I’d asked her out because I wanted to spend time with her. But saying it in front of everyone felt like making a bigger deal of it than it needed to be. And I didn’t want to say it in front of Trish.

Trish had gone quiet. She was looking at the floor, and I wondered whether she’d heard the change in Kat’s voice too.

“Anyway,” I said. I softly pulled Kat’s hand and made to leave. It was time to get away from all this. “We should get going. We have a reservation.”

“Of course you do,” Heather said. “Have fun. And I expect a full report tomorrow.”

“You'll get nothing.”

“We'll see.”

I was just about to lead Kat towards the door when I glanced at Trish. She'd been quiet throughout the exchange, her attention fixed on her hands. When she noticed me looking, she gave me a brief smile that never reached her eyes.

“Have a good night,” she said.

“Thanks,” I replied, suddenly wishing we weren't leaving things like this.

Kat squeezed my hand, and I turned back towards the door. Whatever Heather had started, I couldn't do much about it now. I had a date to get through, and Kat deserved my attention.

Outside, I quickly apologised to Kat for my sister.

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have come inside. I should have just messaged you from the car. I was just excited to see you,” Kat said.

I could sense a little of the sparkle had gone out of her, and I wanted to get it back. “No. I’m so excited to see you too. You look absolutely stunning. I think this should be the new school uniform from now on. I’d wear it too.” I kept my face stern, like I was being dead serious.

Kat burst out laughing. The date was back on track. She was still laughing as we reached the car.

“I'm glad you find my fashion advice so amusing,” I said, opening the driver’s door for her.

“Oh, I do. Especially since you look like you're about to attend a job interview.”

“I thought I looked handsome.”

“You do.” She paused, looking me over with an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression. “A little overdressed for an Italian restaurant, perhaps, but handsome.”

“I'm beginning to regret making such an effort.”

“No, you're not.” She was right. I wasn't.

I grinned and shut her door, walking around to the passenger's side. Kat had picked the restaurant, and although she'd told me not to worry about the cost, I'd checked the menu online earlier that afternoon. It was the sort of place with white tablecloths, candles on the tables, and waiters who seemed to know more about wine than I knew about anything. It was also the sort of place where I was very glad I'd listened to Kat and worn something other than a band shirt.

“So,” I said as Kat pulled out of the driveway, “are you going to tell me what you've got planned for dinner, or is it a surprise?”

“I told you. Italian.”

“That's a whole country of food, Kat.”

“You'll cope.”

“I was thinking of ordering a Hawaiian pizza.”

She turned to look at me in mock horror. “Not on our first date!”

“What? What's wrong with pineapple on pizza?”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you just say that. But seeing as we're going somewhere nice, you can order your disgusting pizza next time.”

I glanced at her. “Next time?”

She smiled at the windscreen. “If tonight goes well.”

“Well, no pressure, then.”

“None at all.” She said it lightly, but the smile she gave me made my stomach flutter.

The restaurant was tucked away on a side street, its windows glowing warmly against the darkening evening. A couple of small tables sat outside, though the night had turned cool enough that most people had chosen to eat indoors. Inside, the place was busy without being noisy. Soft music played somewhere in the background, and the air smelled of garlic, fresh bread, and something rich and savoury that made me hungry the moment we walked through the door. The waiter showed us to a small table near the window. A candle flickered between us, and I suddenly became very aware that this was an actual date. Not a party, not a school event, not one of those occasions where we happened to be standing beside each other. Just Kat and me.

She took the menu and studied it with the confidence of someone who'd been here before.

“You've been here a lot?” I asked.

“A few times. My parents like it.”

“Should I be worried? Have I brought you somewhere that reminds you of family dinners?”

She looked up. “Only if you start acting like my dad.”

“I'll try to keep the embarrassing stories to a minimum.”

“Good. I'd hate to have to send you home in an Uber.”

We ordered drinks and took our time choosing our meals. Kat went for a creamy mushroom pasta, while I settled on a chicken dish with roasted potatoes. We shared a starter of bruschetta, which Kat insisted I try properly rather than attempting to eat it in one bite.

“You're making a mess,” she observed as a little tomato slipped onto my plate.

“I'm enjoying myself.”

“Clearly.”

“Besides, you look like you've been practising.”

“I have standards.”

“You're on a date with me. That seems unlikely.”

She laughed, and I felt some of the nervousness I'd carried out of the house finally disappear.

The food was excellent. Even better, the conversation never seemed to run out. We talked about school, teachers we couldn't stand, and the ridiculous things Michael and Lyndsay had done over the years. Kat told me about a disastrous family holiday when she'd been younger, and I nearly choked on my drink when she described her dad trying to navigate a rental car through a narrow Italian village.

“He was convinced the satnav was wrong,” she said, shaking her head. “He kept insisting there had to be a bigger road.”

“Was there?”

“No. There was a wall!” Kat burst out laughing at the memory.

I couldn’t help joining. “Please tell me he didn't hit it.”

“He didn't hit it. But he did take the wing mirror off a parked car.”

“That's even worse!”

“He spent the next twenty minutes trying to convince the owner, who didn’t speak a word of English or comprehend my dad’s Italian, that it had already been broken.”

“Your dad sounds like a man after my own heart.”

“Don't you dare start getting along with my father. A girl's got to be able to rebel about somethings.”

By the time our plates were cleared, I realised we'd been talking for nearly two hours. I hadn't checked my phone once. I hadn't thought about Rebecca, or Trish, or the awkwardness back at home. I was simply enjoying being with someone.

And Kat seemed to be enjoying herself just as much. She'd relaxed into her chair, one hand resting near mine on the table. Every so often, our fingers brushed, and neither of us made any effort to move away.

“So,” she said eventually, “was it worth getting dressed up for?”

I looked down at my shirt. “I'm not sure. We’re lucky no one saw us. I think my reputation may have been permanently damaged.”

“Your reputation?”

“If Michael hears about this. I'll never live it down.”

“Maybe you should bring him here. Give him a chance to improve himself.”

“I don't think this place is ready for that guy.”

“Fair point.”

I smiled at her and became serious. “Yes. It was worth it.”

Her expression softened. “Good.”

The waiter brought the dessert menu, but Kat and I decided to share a lemon tiramisu. She took the first bite, closed her eyes briefly, and made a little sound of appreciation.

“Okay,” I said. “Now I know why you chose this place.”

“It's amazing, isn't it?”

I took a bite. “I'll admit it. You have excellent taste.”

“In restaurants?”

“In restaurants,” I agreed.

She nudged my foot under the table. “Coward.”

Our legs stayed entwined under the table until we finished eating. I found myself watching her more than I was watching the dessert. There was something different about Kat tonight. At school, she was confident and quick with a teasing remark, but here, away from the corridors and the familiar crowd, I was seeing a side of her that I hadn't really taken the time to notice before. She was funny. She was warm. She listened when I spoke, and she seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. And she looked incredible. When the bill came, I reached for it.

“We can split it,” Kat said.

“I asked you out. I've got it.”

“You don't have to.”

“I know. I want to.”

She studied me for a moment, then let me pay without arguing. Outside, she slipped her arm through mine as we walked back towards the car.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For dinner?”

“For tonight. It's been really lovely.”

I smiled. “I've had a great time too.”

She looked up at me. “Even with all the fashion advice?”

“Especially with the fashion advice. I may never wear a band shirt again.”

“Now I know you're lying.”

“Maybe just on special occasions.”

She laughed and leaned against me for a moment before we reached the car. I opened the driver’s door for her again, earning another amused look as she got behind the wheel and I went to my side. For a few seconds, neither of us moved. The restaurant's warm lights reflected in the windscreen, and the quiet inside the car felt a world away from the bustle we'd just left.

“I'm not quite ready to go home,” Kat said.

“Neither am I.”

She turned towards me. “What should we do?”

I glanced around. We were parked on a quiet side street, with a few cars passing now and then. I could have suggested a walk, or another stop somewhere for coffee, but neither of us seemed particularly keen to get out into the cold.

“I'm sure we can think of something,” I said.

Kat smiled. “I was hoping you'd say that.” She reached across the space between us and took my hand. Her fingers were warm, and when I turned towards her, she was already looking at me. “Can I kiss you?” she asked.

I was a little surprised she'd asked, but only for a moment. “Of course.”

She leaned across the centre console, and I met her halfway. The kiss was gentle at first, almost tentative after the easy confidence we'd shared all evening. Then she smiled against my lips, and I felt myself smiling too. I lifted my hand to her cheek, and she moved closer, her fingers curling into the front of my shirt. When we drew apart, she stayed close.

“See?” she whispered. “You can be romantic.”

“Just don’t go spilling all my secrets.”

“I think this one is already beyond saving.”

I laughed, and she kissed me again. This time, neither of us was in a hurry to stop. We shifted awkwardly around the centre console, laughing when my elbow caught the handbrake, and Kat complained that I was making it difficult. Eventually, she suggested we move into the back seat, where there was considerably more room. It was a ridiculous suggestion. It was also an excellent one. I climbed out, walked around the car, and joined her in the back. Kat was already laughing when I slid in beside her.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing. I'm just trying to imagine explaining how this date went to my mum.”

“Please don't. I don't think I'm ready to meet her under those circumstances.”

She gave me a playful shove, then leaned in and kissed me. The laughter faded. I put an arm around her, and she settled close against me, her hand resting on my shoulder. We kissed for a long time, pausing now and then to exchange a few quiet words or simply look at each other. At one point, she brushed a strand of hair away from my forehead.

“You really are different when you're not wearing a Nirvana shirt,” she murmured.

“I'm beginning to think you have a problem with Nirvana.”

“I have a problem with you wearing the same three shirts every week.” She kissed me again, and I forgot whatever clever response I'd been about to make.

Eventually, we pulled apart, both a little breathless. Kat rested her forehead against mine, smiling.

“Tonight was really good,” I said.

“Yeah. It really was.”

“And I'm glad you came inside.”

I saw Kat pause and bite her lip, thinking about what she was going to say next. She picked up her small purse and opened it up. “Speaking of that… I brought these.”

She pulled her hand away, and there was a pair of condoms held between her two fingers.