Violet was a little - okay, more than a little - nervous. She was sitting on the stairs just off the main hall of wing C. She hadn't wanted to wait by the doors, because there was nowhere to sit down over there, and she figured she'd start pacing or something. All because of a date.
It's not scary. I'm supposed to be happy, right? Going on a date is fun, Violet reassured herself, resting her chin in her hand and gazing around the room. There was the slightest hint of blue eyeshadow one her eyelids. She'd put some on, but was horribly inexperienced with makeup and did an awful job, so she'd washed it off right away.
Her clothes weren't anything special. Violet had on a pair of jeans, folded up at the cuffs - Don't wear a skirt, she'd remembered. Not that she owned a skirt anyway. As for a shirt - a plain white t-shirt, under her lavender hoody.

Violet's hair was tied back in a braid - kind of a stubby one, but it would do the trick. As long as it kept her hair out of her eyes, she didn't care.

She gave an irritable tug at the collar of her sweatshirt. It kept slipping backwards, because the hood was too large. Or too heavy.
Or something.

Do you know why boys like motorcycles?

It's because they're fast, dangerous, and very, very loud.

That, and girls think they're sexy.

Dave, on his bike, looks very very different than Dave wandering around in a bookstore and not quite knowing what he's looking for. For one thing, he has a brilliant red helmet that covers his entire head and makes him look a bit like a racer--he actually does go down to the track occasionally and pull a few stunts--and he actually looks rather dashing.

(This impression is generally ruined when he takes off the helmet and reveals that too-young face with the upturned nose and the curly hair. Though the hair hasn't quite recovered from his paranoid reaction to 'Zoe' yet, so it's still very short.)

He roared to a stop in front of building C--probably he was the recipient of several annoyed looks from passing professors, though there was nothing wrong with being in the parking lot--and turned off the engine, flicking his visor up and spotting Violet, which sparked a huge grin.

"Hey there."

It took Violet a moment to recognize him him - blame it on the helmet. When she did finally realize who it was, she smiled and offered a shy little wave, and got up. "Hi," she said. "You're right on time."

Reaching back, she tugged on her hood, and gave her braid a little flick to get it out of her way. "You know," she added, in a teasing, more confident tone, "I was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten."

"Hey, I never forget appointments. Important ones, anyway." Yep. Just called her important.

"Glad to see you didn't forget either." Or chicken out.

"Here, lemme get out the spare helmet--forgot to tell you to do something with your hair, but the braid's fine--and we can get going. 'Less you have something you forgot." Most girls do, in his experience.

He's not quite a ladies' man, but he has had plenty of dates.

Violet frowned thoughtfully. Have I forgotten anything? she wondered, picturing the dorm room. She'd locked the door. Everything was in its place when she'd left. And Wick was - ...
it didn't matter. Probably causing a mess or something, somewhere.

She shook her head, smiling. "Nope, I'm all set."
I'm actually going to be riding on a motorcycle with some guy I barely know, she thought, And we could crash and I could die...
Nahhhh. That's not gonna happen.

For one thing, Dave is much less reckless when he has someone else on the bike with him. And motorcycles are rather less dangerous when the driver is being especially careful.

"'kay then." That's a first.

He twists around and flips up the seat behind him--there's a compartment underneath, where he carries things like a spare helmet and a jacket and all that sort of thing--and pulls out a plain black helmet.

"Here you go."

"Thanks," Violet said, fumbling with it for a moment before actually putting it on. She made certain it would stay fastened properly, then smiled at Dave. " 'Kay. I got it."
With both hands, she pulled on the neck of her hoody - stupid thing. Darn sweater won't stay in place... she thought. There. I think that'll do it, this time. Good.
"..Let's go, I guess...?"

"Sounds good. Climb on, Violet." He gave an apologetic smile.

"You're gonna have to hold on t'me, 'm afraid."

Not that he minds, of course, but if it bothers her, he doesn't object to walking. Hey, they can talk and walk. It's a little hard to talk and ride, though.

Violet nodded. With little difficulty, she climbed on to the bike. She felt a little awed, partly because she was actually going through with this, and partly because she thought she was going to enjoy it. "Mmkay," she said, with a smile that didn't show a trace of anxiety. She put her arms around him. "'S that good?"

He grinned. Shy, was she? Not hardly.

"'s perfect. Off we go."

He flipped his visor down and started the engine.

Roar!

Very loud things, motorcycles are.