Jaded

Chapter One

A/N- I know by now that only like 4 of you have read this story, but thanks! For at least taking time and looking at it. 

Chapter One

             “I swear I’m going to kill him this time,” I growled hatefully stabbing into the pasta dish set before me, “That cowardly jerk!” Out of any date he had to miss, it would be this one. It took me two months to book a reservation here! I thought that this would provide an oppurtunity for our relationship to grow. Three long years and nothing to show for it. I know that we had taken a turn for the worst when he began staying out later and later after work.

               The first time I saw Rick I wasn’t blown away by his looks, or anything silly like that. It was more of a business deal at first, no emotions involved at all. He had tutored me during my sophomore year of college. I had been struggling through my Communications class and my teacher had recommended Rick for the position, considering that he majored in it. We met two days a week at the local diner to discuss the weeks’ lectures. He had been the perfect gentleman; kind, thoughtful, and even a bit funny. Being a business major myself, I'd thought it would be a good idea to work together. Now that I think back on it, I guess that it wasn’t the best idea, to mix pleasure and business but we did it anyway. Now three years down the road we were struggling, ironically, with what brought us together in the first place: communication. Honestly, to this day I wasn’t sure what made me say yes to the first date. Just look at what my bad decisions have gotten me.

               I groaned, covering my face with my hands, my new earrings swaying with the slight movement. I even dressed up for this charade. Chancing a look behind me, I saw the waiters talking amongst themselves. “You see that woman there…yeah her…been here for hours...hope she gives a good tip.” In that moment, I felt all sorts of emotions. Most of them I channeled into anger. I stared down at the table top instead of at the multitude of waiters eying me sympathetically. One of the younger ones broke off from the pack and walked over to my table.

“Excuse me, are you done with your food miss?” My hackles rose at his derisive tone.

“Are you saying I’m not welcome here anymore?!” I demanded, slightly offended. The poor kid looked startled.

“Um…n-no, I mean yes ma’am!” he stammered and shifted uncomfortably under my heavy glare. “Just that…you’ve been here for 4 hours miss. I don’t think that whoever your meeting is just late.” Before I could open my mouth, my phone began blaring its distinctive ringtone. I held up a finger, and answered the phone quickly.

“Hello?”

              “Lyra? This is Rick.” The word anger couldn’t cover all what I was feeling at the moment. I set my jaw, the tendons straining against my skin as I ground my teeth.

“I know who you are,” I said curtly.

“...Okay…well I was calling to tell you that I can’t make it tonight…Something came up.”

I fought the urge to laugh.

“Something came up?! You didn’t think to call or even send a text?”

                I let out an exasperated sigh as he broke out into a long list of apologies and excuses for his absence. Rolling my eyes, I gave him his five minutes of fame and only tuned in to the last words of his tirade. “Huh, what did you just say?”

“Let me make it up to you,” he said, his voice as reassuring as a pit of quicksand.

 I made up my mind quickly. This was the last time he would do this to me.

               “Meet me at the local diner tomorrow at noon,” I smiled grimly, no doubt scaring the waiter standing in front of me with my bleak body language. “We can talk about you making it up to me later. Right now I don’t want to talk to you.” I hung up the phone before he could get a word in edgewise—no doubt another excuse about how he couldn’t make it—and stood looking at the waiter expectantly.

“Pack up the dessert to go, please.”

               He jumped to attention and nodded. “Y-yes ma’am!” As he scurried away, I couldn’t help but snort at his obvious happiness to get me out of his hair.

I must be bad for business.

***