Adam&Audrey

Rule #4: Date Night (Part One)

Gritting her teeth, she unbuckled herself and pushed out of the vehicle. “Fine,” she said, slamming the door shut. I winced. Poor Lana.

Seeing her stony and hurt expression as she stood just outside the door with her arms crossed, my gut churned uncomfortably again. I hesitated, my hand on the steering wheel. Maybe I shouldn’t leave her like this.

But the memory of her lips on mine was like a cold bucket of water. Setting my jaw, I pressed down on the accelerator, Audrey’s figure becoming smaller and smaller. As I peeled out onto the main road, a few drops of rain began falling onto my windshield. Dammit. Sighing, I resignedly took a U-turn and went back, my heart and gut both heavy. The rain was pouring harder now, and I matted my wet hair back as I got out, shutting the car door behind me.

Peering through wet lashes, I scoped the parking lot, but there was no familiar red head in sight. Where was she?  I couldn’t have been gone more than five minutes. “Audrey! Where are you?”

There was no answer, and again, no red hair in sight. My heart pounding loudly through my soaked shirt, I rushed to the front of the mall, squinting inside and around the parking lot.

Cursing, I drew myself closer in to keep warm and stuffed my hands deep into my pockets, waiting in the shade for some sign of her. Maybe she just wandered off. Maybe she just went to the bathroom. I recalled seeing a bus stop on my way back, but it was empty. What if she reached there just as I left? What if I just never saw her as I passed? My mind was whirring, searching for some sort of excuse, some explanation as it grew late and my eyes began tiring from not blinking in case I missed her.

She’s here; she’s got to be here…

But I knew she wasn’t.

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Two hours later, I walked through my front door, sporting wet clothes, a dead phone battery, and a migraine. I still hadn’t found Audrey, and it was all I could do from breaking down. The shivers down my spine weren’t from the cold.

“Took you long enough.”
My head snapped up. There was Audrey, calmly sitting on the couch with her sketchbook in her lap, perfectly safe and warm. Without another word, I launched myself at her and engulfed her in a soggy hug.

She wriggled in m grasp so I let her go, and she glared at me, wrinkling her nose. “You’re all wet.”

My mouth formed a large smile. “I was looking for you,” I said matter-of-factly. You’re okay, thank god you’re okay.”

She just raised an eyebrow at me, and my expression sobered. “Listen, Audrey, I’m really sorry-”

“It’s okay. I should thank you, actually.”

I frowned. “For what?”

She closed her book, running her hand over the cover slowly. “Well,” she began, brushing her constant strand of (dry) hair back. “After you left me, I bumped into an old friend of mine. He gave me a lift home.”

Deciding that it had been a long day and bringing up the fight would be pointless, I tentatively approached the subject. “I’m, uh, glad you got home safely. But, you know, maybe you could have picked up when I called you or something.”

The book was opened again. “I was busy.”

I stared at her, stumped. “Oh.”

She continued reading and I continued staring, waiting for her to break the awkward silence until I gave up and stood, plucking non-existent lint from my half-dry jeans. Debating on whether to continue down the hallway to my bedroom and change, or go to the other end of the hallway and enter the kitchen. A shiver ran through my body. Coffee it is.