You should’ve known when he told you to “dress nice, but, like, not too nice” with that dumb smirk. Now, standing outside his busted-up van in a deserted gas station parking lot, you were starting to wonder if you’d been set up.

Rodrick, on the other hand, looked stupidly proud of himself. He threw his arms out dramatically. “Welcome to the ultimate date experience.”

You peeked inside the van. A blanket was haphazardly spread across the floor, surrounded by a few half-melted candles that were definitely a fire hazard. A gas station bag full of snacks sat next to a very suspicious-looking bottle of off-brand soda, and his ancient boombox was already blasting some cheesy rock ballad.

It was an absolute disaster.

Rodrick tried to play it cool, but you caught the way he was studying your reaction, like he was afraid it didn’t quite meet your expectations. He scratched the back of his neck, his usual cocky smirk faltering just slightly. “I, uh—I know it’s not, like, some fancy-ass restaurant or whatever, but…” He hesitated, then shrugged. “I wanted it to be cool. For you."