Riley had been on a few dates in her nineteen years of living, some of those turning into serious relationships, but she thinks that the date that she was preparing for in front of her mirror is the one she’s the most nervous for. She got that feeling with her other relationships, but the feeling of the nervous butterflies fluttering around in her stomach were more serve this time around. It kind of felt like there were bats flying around in her stomach, rather than butterflies. What if Riley didn’t act like the same person she was when she had first met Reagan? When her and Reagan had met at the pub, there were already a few drinks in Riley that gave her that boost of confidence to not turn around and walk away and actually talk to the blonde, but her friends had to give her the first push. At the time she was constantly protesting, trying to convince her friends that the blonde up on the stage had no interest in her whatesoever, but those doubts floated away when Reagan had asked her out on a date, even though they had only been chatting for a couple of minutes, but Riley must have made some type of impression on Reagan. To be honest, this was the first day that Riley’s had in a long time, too long to even remember. Before leaving her house, Riley hoped and prayed that she didn’t screw things up.
The only hint that Riley had gotten from Reagan about her date was to meet her at the park. She had no idea if that’s where they were having their date or it’s just where they were meeting. Since it was a surprisingly beautiful summer day, Riley would rather spend the day outside opposed to being stuck inside. It’s very rare that they get nice days like this one. After of minutes racking her brain trying to figure it out the reasoning for meeting at the park was starting to give Riley a headache, so she decided to just be surprised with whatever Reagan had planned. Coming closer to reaching her destination, Riley hoped that she wasn’t too late or too early, because she didn’t want to make a fool out of herself this early on in the date. Just to make sure that Reagan thought Riley wasn’t standing her up, she pulled her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans, sending her a quick text telling her that she was almost there. She didn’t even have to send any messages because when she put her phone away and looked back up, she was met with Reagan, whose face was breaking out into a smile, the expression mirroring on Riley’s face, with a faint blush thrown in. “Hey..” She greeted quietly with a small wave as she approached the blonde. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” Riley took a seat across from Reagan on the blanket, eyes scanning the picnic basket next to Reagan and the open bag of grapes, emitting a soft laugh from Riley’s lips. “A picnic, eh? It looks like you already started without me.” She joked.
Watching the other make her way towards the little setup she’d displayed carefully across the grass Reagan certainly couldn’t help but chew on the edge of her tongue, a bit of a nervous habit which she’d really been seeing less and less of up until that moment. Even still the smile across her features was bright, blonde hair tucked up tight behind her ear as she sat up a bit, legs crossed easily as her hands fell into her lap. “Who said I was gonna share?” The blonde quipped in response the moment the two seemed to move on from what could only be described as nervous greetings, Reagan herself taking great comfort in the other’s apparent openness and shared apprehension for, well, their date. It was only seconds later that she laughed though, honest and true and ringing out around them as she slid the bag of grapes forward, twisting her body just enough to dig around within the depths of the wicker picnic basket beside herself. “It just — seems cool in movies? Yeah, let’s go with that explanation.” She elaborated further, worry washing away with time because it didn’t take very long at all for the girl to be reduced to the carefree and talkative musician that Riley had only recently came to know. She spared a glance up from where her hands were still making sense of the contents of the basket she had earlier packed long enough to catch the other girl in a similar gaze, the blush which fell across her pale cheeks enough to be felt as she drew her gaze away a bit shyly.
“I’ve got little sandwiches,” Reagan exclaimed, a bit proudly, just as she pulled out the first of the too many little plastic containers she’d spent the morning packing, holding it up and shaking it a bit to show the contents to the other before peeling off the lid. Within were little sandwiches cut into triangles because it was dainty and cute and really, she wasn’t all too willing to make a great mess on what was still most definitely a date regardless of the causality of it all. “And fruit salad to balance out the crisps. Oh, and iced tea because we both know how well you do when handed tequila.” She teased then, the selection displayed out around them and not looking nearly as perfect as she’d hoped it to but still a bit impressive all the same. She’d nearly cut herself twice halving the strawberries and maybe she’d forgotten ice for the cooler and had to run to the gas station down the street last minute but neither of those had to be disclosed, not yet anyway, and with a smile and a little gesture far too grand for the situation Reagan gave a little shrug and picked up one of the plastic forks before grabbing herself a bit of fruit salad straight from the container.
Reagan isn’t a nervous person, not usually and certainly not by nature. She isn’t nervous when she steps up onto the stages of pub after pub and she certainly wasn’t nervous the very first time she encountered Riley, the red haired girl beautiful and bubbly and behaving in a way which was comforting even then, but in that very moment as she perched herself on the edge of a worn blanket she’d stolen out of her mother’s linen closet, well, she was nervous. Nervous wasn’t exactly the right word though, she realized another minute later as she rummaged through the picnic basket she’d found in the garage and took to dusting off (thank you grandma Rose), not as great a fit as apprehensive or even cautiously curious. She’d taken the time to plan out their tentative date and, however cliche it had turned out to be, she still wanted it to be memorable in more of a positive sense. She could count on a single hand the number of formal dates she’d attended and this marked number five or so, she reckoned, the lack of experience holding most of the reason for her uncertainty.
The blonde popped a couple of grapes from the stem which lay in the bag beside her out of nothing but necessity to do something with her hands, eyes scanning lazily at the park around her, at the various groups of people milling around and doing one thing or another. It was one of those beautifully lazy summer days which occurred far too infrequently and Reagan was thankful she’d gotten so lucky with picking a nice day, the breeze and sun coming in equal amounts and serving to lull her into a state of relaxation as she waited for the other. She had promised herself that when she had shown up, about twenty minutes too early, she wouldn’t look at her phone another time but rather spent the time laying around and convincing herself that it was only a date, only a date with a girl who had already proved herself to be easygoing beyond belief. She’d succeed in such a feat, surprisingly enough, and just when she was about to cave and check her phone for unanswered messages she saw the unmistakable figure of one Riley Brookes heading towards her, a smile finding it’s way onto her features.