At this point in your life, finding a genie to grant you a relationship seemed a far better tactic than downloading yet another dating app to your phone. It was pathetic enough to think yourself unsuitable for every mutual friend who had set you up on a blind date with another hopeless single. You always loathed the expression "it's only a matter of time" when it pertained to easily doable things. But as the clock's small hand finally tickled the edge of the eight on the restaurant's wall, you had begun questioning if your era of date-ability had abruptly closed without your permission.
"Are you sure you didn't want anything?" The waitress looked down at you, a clear sorrow present in her eyes. Her lips wobbled in their endeavor to spare a smile and you only shook your head. You swallow thickly, enduring your grumbling stomach and thin patience as you glanced down to find your phone vacant of texts from your date for the night. In fact, the only two messages displayed on your phone screen were the same two you had received from the start of the night, the moment you left the house, and entered your car.
WHORE-an
stay safe petal , call if ya need us
sp(E)rm
Be careful honey! We'll be by our phones all night just in case
While you wanted to text them back when you reached the restaurant, you found it a rude sight for your date to sit down and watch you click away at your screen. You glanced back up to the waitress and released a slow breath, feeling your throat constrict in the process. "No, thank you. I won't take up any more of your time. Could I just get the check?"
"We aren't gonna charge you for just water, ma'am. It's perfectly fine." Her smile grew firm in its sincerity. However, you still caught the flakes of green pity circumventing her pupils as she plucked the empty glass from your table.
"Thank you," you spoke in a hushed voice.
"Of course, miss. You have a wonderful night." Despite the absence of food in your stomach and the chill in your heart, a few appreciative bills were set on the table for the waitress to sweep up when she arrived back. The walk of shame from the chair to your car felt much longer of a stride than your entrance into the restaurant. The phone in the passenger seat tempted you the entire drive back to the house, but you refused to look at it in fear that it would spring tears to your eyes. Truthfully, the rejection set in the first thirty minutes into your designated rendezvous. Was it desperation that kept you there for the next half an hour with a bouncing leg and fiddling hands? Maybe. Perhaps it was hope that he would show with a reasonable explanation, or even text you one to save the embarrassment of radio silence the waitress studied you leaving with.
The air conditioning filled the silence of your vehicle, hitting your bared arms and part of your legs at full blast but doing nothing to mollify your flushed body. Your cheeks were red but not with spite or resentment, though you wished they were. All your eyes observed through the drive was the occasional traffic light and your white knuckles clenching the steering wheel as you kept repeating in your head not to floor it. You exited the vehicle, allowing your heels rhythmic clicking to notify Niall and Shawn of your entrance. Internal goosebumps lined your form yet entering the cool interior of your shared house still provided your skin with no comfort. The thumps of your heart grew rapidly when you shut the door behind you. The silence was all you were greeted with, which made you slightly thankful that the boys had gone to bed and could therefore pass on the sight of you, miserable and post-failed-date. That was your last hope. And of course, the universe deemed it could not grant you even that satisfaction when you quietly followed the small glow of light into the kitchen to see Niall stuffing a plate of leftovers onto the shelf of the fridge.
