REINER
Our date hadn’t started as I’d planned, but it was surely going on absolutely amazing.
“No way,” Becky chuckled as, at her insistence, I finished recounting to her all the reasons why I’d come in late and had to change plans for our date.
“Oh, yes,” I sighed. “It was a mess. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, I burned the bread.”
My plan had probably been one of the most romantic ones ever concocted, and therefore one I was incredibly proud of: I was supposed to meet Becky in our room, cuddle her a little, then blindfold her and take her to the actual date location – the large greenhouse my grandmother had built to have a warm, summery forest, just the way she liked it, even during winter: the perfect spot for a romantic, intimate, and most importantly, safe picnic.
My friend
