We went to the driving range and Keira tried her best to teach me how to swing the club.
“I feel like I look like I’m constipated doing this,” I said, frustrated at the weird position I had to be in.
“Just think of it as, like, twerking, but not shaking your butt,” she said, seriously. I turned back around at her and gave her a blank stare. She laughed loudly. “Well hey, at least your butt looks nice,” she emphasized and wiggled her eyebrows.
It was my turn to laugh now. “I knew there was some secret motive behind this date,” I said and immediately regretted my words. Date?
“Date?” she asked, staring at me. I couldn’t read her.
“Day. I said day,” I came up with the excuse of her mishearing me.
“Uh huh,” she replied, a smile forming on her lips. “Anyways, let’s get this show on the ro
