Invite him to a sporting event.
From Create Your Own Story
"Sporting event, huh?" Corbin leaned back in his leather seat and pondered for a moment. "Don't get to go to many of those with my schedule..."
"It'll be fun." You stepped out of the car and leaned into the front passenger window. "How's about I meet you at the ballpark?"
"That'll do." He nodded at you with some confidence, and then drove off.
You stood for a moment looking in the direction he departed, grinning with anticipation, then went into your apartment building.
Several days later, you arrive at the baseball stadium in full sports fan-girl gear. A T-shirt of your dad's favorite old-school pitcher, though a bit outdated (Dad bought it for you when you attended a baseball game with him as a 13-year-old) and small enough that it barely covers your abdominal region, leaving a glimpse of bare waistline and belly button. A pair of casual and comfortable sport shorts matches the color of your striped knee-high socks and red and white sneakers. You complete the look with a baseball cap of your favorite team. As you side-step and weave through the sea of crowds to your appointed meeting spot, you see Corbin up ahead, wearing a light blue polo shirt and brown khakis, leaning against a metal railing with one arm resting on the top bar and a flyer in his other hand. His familiar jet-black, slicked-back hair hold in place by a pair of sunglasses resting on his forehead. Although you must say he looks less like a mafia member without the black coat.
"Heya." You waltz over and nudge him with your shoe. He looks up at you from the stadium promo advertisement in his hand.
"Looks like YOU'RE dress for the occasion." He studies you up and down, grinning with some amusement.
"And it looks like YOU'RE not." You placed your hands on your hip and looks him up and down with lighthearted disapproval. "Seriously, who goes to a baseball game wearing khakis and a polo?"
"I told you. I don't attend sporting events that often." He retorted casually, seemingly unfazed by your verbal jab. "I'm not familiar with ballpark etiquette."
"Well, first thing you need to do... is to get a jumbo-sized hot dog!" You lead him along and head toward the concessions. "Com'on! Drinks and snacks are on me!"
The two of you took your seats in the bleachers sipping soda and chewing down hot dog.
"Not bad." He nodded approvingly.
"I told ya." You winked and waved your hot dog in his face. "Now we gotta cheer on our team."
"Which one's our team?" He slipped on his sunglasses and looked out onto the field.
"Red and white uniforms. Go Rock Lobsters!" You jump up and down, tightly clutching both fists and shouting. "Rock! Lobsters! Rock! Lobsters!"
"This is pretty intense." He raised an eyebrow in startled fashion and chuckled. "Go Lobsters."
"Com'on, that was so weak. You gotta get into it!" You playfully nudge his shoulder with your hip. "Rock! Lobsters! Rock! Lobsters!
