Blossom had been in a bit of a tiz for the remainder of Saturday, all the way through Easter with her sisters and dad, there was the constant gnawing on her lip. She couldn’t figure out if she’d just asked Tyler on a date or not. Technically, she had a ticket to go and see this thing. She knew that her friends might’ve been lied at her, just telling her that it was great because they were involved in it -they needed butts on seats after all.

But she wasn’t entirely worried about the enjoyment of the show -other than not being terrible so that Tyler wasn’t more bored than he’d be at his family’s fundraiser thing, but the prospect of the party afterwards was pretty good too. Eventually, of course, the panic settled down, since Blossom was nothing if not practical at the best of times anyway. She could convince herself to just stop worrying. A very good trait to have in college.

Turned out, much to Blossom’s chagrin, the performance was on par with mime, and no one really liked mime, did they? She tried to keep the smile through it, hoping that maybe it’d get better. Until the intermission and she just gave in and asked if Tyler wanted to blow the rest of it off? She was sure they wouldn’t be the only ones to leave early. Since there were people sleeping.

It was a shame, but it was terrible, and she’d rather not have Tyler think she was really boring (if this was a date or not, was it… it probably wasn’t, friends went out! It was just… oh stop it) and not want to hang out again. “So, I have it on much better authority that the party is better than the show, if you still want to go?”

Lucky for Blossom, there wasn’t much that Tyler would find worse than one of the boring old fundraisers his parents threw. It wasn’t so bad if he had friends around that he could goof around with, but most of his friends were busy with their families on Easter Weekend, and those that weren’t didn’t exactly jump at the chance to buy overpriced meal tickets.

After dinner he’d hung around for a while, talking to diplomats and other senators, but the first chance he got he excused himself. He was mostly honest, telling everyone that he was sad to leave but he had a movement and dance performance that he was dying to see, and not even Tyler’s father could find fault with that and even commended Tyler for how cultured he was even as he shot Tyler the occasional suspicious glance, knowing that Tyler had very little interest in that kind of thing.

The performance was worse than Tyler could have possibly imagined, though even as he struggled to keep himself awake (doing so mostly by stealing glances at Blossom whenever he thought she was paying attention to… whatever it was they were doing on stage), he was glad he was here instead of entertaining guests back at the Lockwood mansion. Blossom seemed to be enjoying herself, smiling throughout most of the performance, which made Tyler even more relieved when she asked if he wanted to leave early. He relaxed, an easy smile crossing his face. “I honestly think the party would have to try very hard to be worse than the show,” Tyler said, teasing. “God yes, I’d love to go to this party.”

“I’m sorry it was so terrible,” at least she could laugh a little, right? It was so bad she understood why they didn’t just call it mime interpretive dance. No one would’ve been conned into going. “I know never to trust my performance friends ever again.” But, a salvageable night, right?

Blossom wasn’t the sort to go to a lot of parties, but she didn’t shirk from them entirely. With a social butterfly like Bubbles as a sister, it was impossible not to get some party invites over the course of their high school and into college. College parties just tended to be a bit more wild.

“Hey, there’s no way you could have known,” Tyler said, shrugging. He’d been dragged to dance performances before by his parents, and while it had never been something he’d been terribly interested in, he definitely wouldn’t have expected something that painfully awkward to be considered a ‘movement performance.’ “One of my best friends is a drama major. If she ever forces me to go to one of her performances, I’ll just have to pay you back.”

He offered an arm to her as he turned to leave the performance hall. He’d always enjoyed a good party, and he was rather eager to get a few beers in him and turn this night around. The night hadn’t been a bust yet, though that could be attributed entirely to Blossom’s presence more than anything they’d actually done.

Drama and arts were always very iffy subjects, Blossom knew that it was hit or miss, so really, it was just their unfortunate luck that it sucked so much. Maybe they’d get better but Blossom would likely not try and get others to go to her friends shows again, “You are more than welcome to pay me back on that, at least drama can be humorous when it sucks.” As opposed to just painfully awkward.

Looping her hand through Tyler’s offered arm, Blossom just offered a bright smile. “I really don’t see beer pong and um, shots being able to ruin anything.” Parties were hard to suck, right? Well, probably not, but they were usually something that could pick up. “It’s just a block or two away from here, if you want to just walk?” Blossom wore sensible shoes, she was the eternal ‘those will hurt my feet, I’m not buying them’ unless it was for a very special occasion.

“It’s a nice night for a walk,” Tyler agreed as they stepped out onto the street. It was comfortably warm, and while the moon wasn’t quite full, it was bright enough to help light the streets. “Oh, I’m going to own you at beer pong.” He’d come straight from the dinner to pick up Blossom and was still wearing the suit that he’d been wearing for dinner. He knew he might be overdressed for a party, but it didn’t bother him. He wouldn’t have changed even if they hadn’t been going to the performance beforehand. He looked damn good in a suit, and he knew it.

He looked at Blossom as though considering something, and then said “let me guess. You’re a vodka girl?” Most college girls seemed to be vodka girls, so it seemed like a good guess.

Blossom wasn’t much of a drinker -she was still underage, but the Professor knew that these things happened at college, and provided Blossom was careful and responsible and never gave him reason to go to the police station to get her, he was fine with turning the other cheek. Sometimes being the smart, responsible and well-behaved girl really worked out well with trusting parents. “I accept that challenge,” not that she was great at beer pong or anything, but why not have a little fun with it? “But there should absolutely be a wager involved.”

It was one of those shared house things for the party, where a group of guys were just going to regret their lives the following day, but everyone would love it at the time, which of course meant that by the time they arrived, it was already in full swing. “I like vodka, with coke though, I cannot do shots ever.” They usually ended up going up her nose and it just wasn’t a pretty sight.

“A wager, huh?” Tyler asked, eyebrows raising a little flirtatiously. “Like say, if I win I get a kiss?” It was a bit of a risky wager, but Tyler didn’t think he was misreading things between Blossom and himself.

He couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Ever?” He asked. “Not even the nice ones, like Crispy Creams or Jolly Ranchers?”

The blush on her cheeks wasn’t overly noticable, but Blossom managed to work with a smile through it. “I think, that’s fair. But what do I get if I win?” Realistically, she wasn’t that good at beer pong, she wasn’t very good a ping pong either.

“Oh, gosh. Those are even worse.” It wasn’t so much that Blossom couldn’t do those, just that she really, really shouldn’t. Since she turned into a squeaky, hyper mess of alcohol and sugar. “I get really giddy on those, and it’s not a pretty sight.”

Definitely not the sort of thing to do on a first date.

Tyler mentally fistpumped, though he aside from the pleased smile that immediately crossed his lips he was able to keep a composed facade. “I guess that’s up to you. Anything you want, really.”

He scanned the party for a beer pong table, and found one that was conveniently located next to a keg, which killed two birds with one stone. He took Blossom’s hand and lead her through the crowd of people through it. “If you think you’re talking me out of mixing you a bunch of shots at some point, then I’m sorry, but you’re very mistaken.” He felt like that was a sight he really did need to see. “Though if you’d rather, we could leave that for next time.”

Next time. There was likely to be a next time. Even after that disastrous dance show. It was Blossom’s turn to mentally fistpump. “What if I just want a kiss too?” Then there really wasn’t much to worry about, was there? But it hardly made it a competition. Not that Blossom was terribly bothered about those either.

“You’ll be pouring me home.” And possibly explaining to the Professor just why she was the happiest little redhead the world had ever seen. But party. Right? Blossom didn’t really go in for the peer pressure thing, and she knew that she could stick to her stubborn will if she really wanted to. But she did want to try and let her hair down, figuratively speaking.

“Then I’ll guess you’ll get a kiss if you win,” Tyler said, filling a bunch of red solo cups about a third of the way full, and then arranging them into triangles on his side of the table, willing to do the same for Blossom if it didn’t look like she wanted to do it herself. “Though, I’ve got to say, I don’t like your chances.” He had to admit that he was pleased at Blossom’s request for a prize though, especially since it meant that no matter what he was going to get to kiss the beautiful girl in front of him.

“So, more of a second or a third date goal then, hm?” He asked. A verbal confirmation that this was a date was really just a formality at this point, since it seemed pretty obvious to him, but it was a formality that Tyler was actually curious about.

Blossom copied Tyler, setting up the cups, filling them the same and making a very precise triangle to match. “Bring it on, bucko.” Although really, she was more than sure that luck would really need to be on her side to really get anywhere. But her dad always said, winning wasn’t what mattered, it was the taking part. And since everyone was a winner here, she really didn’t think she’d be disappointed.

Least of all when the subject of second and third dates came up. Which said two things, Tyler agreed this was a date (score one), and that there was still very much opportunity for more to follow (score two). “Definitely more of a second date kind of thing.” Pushing her hair back, and tying it in the pony with the band around her wrist, Blossom finished up with each hand on her hips, “Okay, how does this work again?”

“It’s really easy,” Tyler said, holding the ping pong table between his index finger and his thumb. “All you have to do is throw the ball into the opponent's cups. Whatever it lands in, they have to drink, and whoever’s out of cups first loses. Like this,” he said, and tossed the ping pong table. It landed neatly into the very centre of her triangle, thrown with all the easy and skill of someone who spent most of his free time throwing balls into goals.

So, the first thing that Blossom remembered was that this a very unsanitary game, the second was of course that Tyler was a sports buff. Great. She was so going to be drunk at the end of this. Still, she’d agreed, so it was just a matter of fishing the ball out of her middle cup and draining the rest of the liquid, at least it didn’t taste any different, so no one was doing weird shit to the balls.

But it wasn’t like she was incapable of it all, she could totally keep up. She was sure. With her lower lip between her teeth in concentration, Blossom aimed for the middle one, just like Tyler, although she over shot a little and ended up on the back row, at least she’d still got it in.

“See, easy,” Tyler said, fishing the ping pong ball out of his cup and chugging down the liquid.

The game continued on, Tyler sometimes gently teasing Blossom for her missed shots. Despite that though, her misses weren’t often and she held her own. Tyler managed to get tipsy enough around the end that he even missed a few of his last shots before finally landing the ping pong ball into Blossom’s last cup. He pumped a fist in the air with a ‘woo’ as he managed his winning shot.

Really, Blossom was mostly proud of herself for not doing terribly. But really, it wasn’t like whoever won really changed the odds that much. Popping the ball into one of her other empty cups, Blossom smirked as she drained the last one, shaking her head at Tyler’s mini-celebration. “Okay, you win.” And the slight blush at just what he’d won came back to her cheeks. “Fair and square.”

Thankfully she was just that side of tipsy that she was a little more confident than shy, it was something to be confident about, right? Knowing that a boy wanted to kiss you, rather than all the guess work? “So, we made a bet, right?” And coyness really wasn’t Blossom’s thing, but she could pretend pretty well.

“We did make a bet,” Tyler said, a devilish smirk on his face. But his gaze softened a little as he stepped closer to Blossom, and he was gentle when he cupped her cheek with a hand and leaned toward her for a kiss. Tyler wasn’t the most romantic guy around. Hooking up with girls at parties was something he was exceptionally good at. But he did actually like Blossom, and even if their first kiss was in some college party with loud music, he still wanted it to be at least a little special.

It didn’t really have to be special special. Honestly, for Blossom, the fact that his breath wasn’t stronger than the beer she’d been drinking and he didn’t try to lick her meant that he was really ahead of the curve as far as her past experience went.

The fluttering in her tummy probably helped, the positive note was that she was 90% sure it was because of apprehension in a good way and not because of the alcohol settling weird. It took her a minute or two to figure out where the hell to put her hands before she settled with his waist, leaning into the kiss meant angling towards Tyler, which Blossom didn’t feel self-conscious doing at all, and tilting her head just enough to meet him without letting him stoop.

Tyler had had quite a bit of experience kissing, and considered himself quite good at it. At least, he’d never had any complaints. He lifted a hand up to wrap in her red hair, and after he’d stolen a nice, long kiss he broke the kiss though didn’t pull very far away, leaving only a small gap between their foreheads. “I wish that was my reward every time I won a bet,” he teased.

“Well,” okay, yeah. He was a good kisser, very good kisser, Blossom needed like a minute or two where she just processed the hella good kissing. “It could be your reward when you make a bet with me?” Because it could probably be awkward just winning bets for kisses, less so if they made strategic wagers.

“I think we both kind of win in that regard though, it’s less of a reward.” Not that Blossom would be complaining, ever.

“I think I can live with that,” he said. “I’m not sure if I’d say it’s less of a reward so much as it is double the reward.” Oh sure, maybe he wasn’t winning anything over Blossom if his prize was a kiss, but it wasn’t like he’d be losing either. He tucked a strand of Blossom’s red hair behind her ear, and then leaned down to kiss her again.

Okay, so they were totally just fine with making up excuses then? That was fine with Blossom too. Although she felt like, with Tyler, she really shouldn’t need an excuse other than he was damn good and she wanted to. She wasn’t entirely bothered with whatever else was going on with the party either, not if she could stand around with Tyler for some extra kisses, even if she did lose the game she totally still won.