They didn't have rehearsal the next day, so there was nothing to distract Lauren from thinking about her date with Joey. Platonic date, she tried to remind herself. So there was no pressure. She wasn't giving him any expectations.
She was ready needlessly early, sat on the couch watching TV while she waited when she got a text from Joey.
'So sry. Car trouble. Won't b able to pick u up. Meet u there?' Followed up by an address of a restaurant. At least now she knew where they were going.
'Works for me. See u soon'
She got there a few minutes early, half expecting Joey to already be there, but he was nowhere to be seen. She thought about going back outside to wait for him to arrive, seeing as it was an inexplicably mild evening, but a host greeted her straight away. She chanced on Joey having made a reservation, and was led to the table for two. She scanned the menu, telling the waiter who came by to take her order that she was waiting for someone, and feeling more anxious with every passing minute that Joey wasn't there.
Her head snapped up every time she heard the door open, and each time her heart sank with disappointment to see someone who wasn't Joey. The waiter came by again to take her order, and her throat felt tight as she asked simply for a glass of water. He wasn't coming.
But she couldn't leave. He wouldn't stand her up, would he? He must have a good reason for being late. But he couldn't text her? Her mind kept throwing up questions and doubts and she wished more and more to be home on her couch watching TV.
She checked her phone for the third time that minute. Nothing. Her thumb hovered over the button to call him, and then she put the phone down. She wasn't desperate.
Forty seven minutes exactly after they were supposed to meet, the door opened and a very disgruntled looking Joey burst in, panting. His eyes flicked around the room, saw her waiting, and lit up.
She kept her face impassive as he sat down opposite her, not wanting to give away how hurt she currently felt until he had a chance to explain himself.
"Lo, I am so sorry," he said, still gasping for breath, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. "My car broke down halfway to yours and while I was waiting for someone to come pick it up my phone died so I couldn't update you but I really, really didn't want to miss this date so I ran all the way here. Please can you forgive me?"
There was a heavy pause. "You're very convincing," she said, raising her glass and taking a nonchalant sip.
"I swear it's true-"
"I know, Jude. You can relax," she said gently.
He looked somewhat disoriented for a moment - maybe at the new nickname (where had that come from?) or maybe still overwhelmed from running all the way over there, which she couldn't believe he'd actually done. Then he relaxed into his chair, beaming at her.
"You look beautiful."
She resisted the self-conscious urge to tuck her hair back, which she'd left curly. "You look okay," she replied. It was a major understatement, even after the running, but they were here as friends and she wasn't going to let any runaway thoughts stand in the way of that.
"God, I'm sorry, I'm sweating so much. Why the hell is it suddenly so hot in January?" he complained.
She smirked at him. "Aren't you used to that?"
"Not when I tried to be prepared by wearing four layers." He peeled off his sweater, pushing his hair back into place.
"It is freakishly warm," she commented. They'd been expecting more snow the other day, but now she almost didn't need her coat.
