Give her the bag, get her number.

“What do you got in here, crack?” you ask.

“No,” she says with a light chuckle, the kind of chuckle you might give to a cop who pulled you over.

“Let’s head to my car,” you say, yanking Tina from her spot. She trots a bit behind you as you hold her hand, leading her like a barn animal. You open your car door for her and jog around to get in your side.

“Okay, time for the moment of truth,” you say, looking towards the bag. She stares out the windshield, expressionless.

You hand her the bag. “I’m just messing with you, kiddo,” you say. She turns to look at you. Her brow is furrowed.

“Well, enough fun, let’s get you home.” You turn on the car and pull out.

You notice her eyes are locked onto you. “You’re a strange guy,” she says.

At her driveway you stop, putting a hand on her thigh to keep her in the car. “Give me your phone.” She stays still. Noncompliant. You snatch the bag out from her hand. “Or I could take a peek in here,” you say. She frowns again. She looks like she’s thinking, then she hands over her phone. You call yourself. “There, now we can plan something for next weekend, if that’s cool with you.

“Okay,” she says.

“Good girl,” you reply.

You give the phone back. There’s a brief pause. She rolls her eyes. You don’t move. “Bye,” she says. She gets out and walks to her door. You watch her skirt sway above her perfect legs as she goes.

You look down at the floor of the passenger seat once you get home. She forgot her bag. You take it inside and decide to give it to her the next time you meet up. You text her to let her know you’ve got the bag and that you haven’t peaked inside.

You wonder where you should take Tina on your first date.