Sims 3: Athena Sparks 26

 It’s slightly chilly as we exit the theatre.  It’s getting late, but I’m not quite ready to say goodbye.

 “Now that was a good movie,” Wendell says.


“Yeah, definitely,” I agree.

 “Do you have to rush home?” He asks as if reading my mind.


“No,” I answer quicker than I intended.

 “How about we grab a bite to eat?” Wendell suggests.


“Sure,” I say, again much too quick, although I have a feeling that he doesn’t mind or find it odd.

 Wendell turns to lead the way and I’m all too happy to follow him.

 The diner has quieted down for the night.  I hope that Desmond and his friends have left.  I’d rather not run into them.

 We enter the diner and for once, I’m actually looking forward to sitting down and having a conversation with someone.

 During dinner, Wendell explains a little more about his reasons for moving to Hidden Springs and they are very similar to my own.  “I just needed a new start.  I was tired of the same ole same ole, you know?” He says.

 Once again, we’re outside trying to think of good excuses for not ending the evening.  “I really enjoyed this,” I say to him.  “I cannot believe how foolish I was last night.”

 Wendell chuckles softly,  “I can’t exactly blame you.  I practically stalk you at the park, then act like a obsessed fan when I get a chance to speak to you.”

 “I was actually flattered,” I admit.  “You were the first person to show an interest in my writing.” I assure him.

 I continue,” after you left, I did my own stalking.  I looked you up online and ran across your blog.  You’re a good writer by the way.”


Again he laughs, “No way…you didn’t read that did you?”  He asks rhetorically.  “Were you checking to see if I had a criminal record?”

 Suddenly I feel embarrassed.  “Uh,” I begin.


“Don’t worry about it.  I don’t exactly carry myself like a school teacher.  I teach grade school.  I was just hired over at the elementary school.”

 I never would have guessed, but its good to hear that he works with children.  “I used to teach, but I was no good at it,” I say.


“I’m sure you’re good at everything you do,” he disagrees. “Well, I hate to say goodnight, but I have to get home and make sure my dog hasn’t destroyed the house.”

 We say our goodbyes and are forced to part ways. 

During the taxi ride home, I replay the evening in my mind and come to another conclusion about Wendell…I can easily picture myself falling in love with him.

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