On Wednesday night, Alexa is working. She's trying to pull as much double time as she can now, so that she can be off this weekend when Hailee comes. I decide to make use of the empty apartment and cook dinner for Mason, to make up for the fact that I will be ditching him as soon as she arrives.
As soon as I finish work, I head to the grocery store to grab everything I need. I'm just picking up different punnets and trying to decide between raspberries or strawberries, when another cart crashes into mine and bumps me on the hip.
Son of a donkey Kong.
"I am so sorry Ma'am. I wasn't looking where I was going and," the voice cuts off and I glance up from rubbing my sore hip to see a familiar looking face. "Diana?"
"Chase?" His hair is tied back today, but there's no mistaking the helpful bartender from the night Mason and I went to Tall-oaks. "What are you doing here?"
"This is where I come to pick up girls." At my blank expression he bursts out laughing. "I'm just kidding Diana, I'm grocery shopping. Bartenders need to eat as well."
I feel like such an ass, what else would he be doing? "Right, sorry!" I throw in both punnets of berries that I was looking at, trying to cover my embarrassment, and pull my cart towards the butcher's section. Chase trails along just behind me.
"I'm actually glad I ran into you," he says. "On the last Friday of every month we do an Open Mic night at Tall-oaks. You should come this weekend."
I think about it for a second. "Actually, I think we will. My best friend Hailee's coming up for a visit, so it will be nice to take her to something different."
"Will, your, uh," he doesn't seem to know what to say, so I wait patiently for him to finish. He picks up a box of frozen hamburger patties, seemingly very interested in the ingredients, before putting it back on the shelf. "That guy be coming?" He finally asks without looking at me.
"Who, Mason?" I lean over the counter and place an order for skinless chicken breasts, watching as the butcher weighs a couple out and wraps them tightly.
"The one that limits your alcohol intake."
"Um, no I don't think so. We're having a girl's weekend."
"Great!" This seems to cheer him up considerably. A wide grin spreads across his face and he tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. "Great!"
I'm guessing he doesn't like Mason very much. I collect my meat from the butcher and place it in my cart, mentally running through my shopping list.
"If you don't mind me asking, is he your boyfriend?"
That question derails my thought process. "Sorry?"
"That guy you were with, is he your boyfriend?"
Why is he asking me that?
"It's complicated," I answer truthfully.
"Sorry, I just realised that to you I'm basically a complete stranger and here I am asking you personal questions in the middle of the meat section." He laughs loudly, the sound echoing through the empty aisle. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
"No, it's okay. We dated in high school and haven't spoken since then. We just kind of reconnected again, recently."
I have no idea why I am telling him this; after all I don't really know him. But he just has such a kind and honest face that I feel myself warming up to him. He's the kind of person I could see myself being friends with.
His warm blue eyes meet mine. "If I had a woman like you, I'd never let her go in the first place."
I feel the blush crawl up my cheeks at his words, unsure of how to respond. I'm not used to people saying stuff like that to me. Especially not when I have just finished a long day of work and I am looking less than my best.
"Sorry, I'm overstepping again!" He turns his shopping cart around. "It was nice to see you Diana. I hope you come this weekend." And with that he walks away, pushing his cart up the aisle and humming softly to himself, leaving me standing by the rows of frozen meat, still unsure of what just happened.
♡
The champagne is chilling, the chicken's in the oven and the salad has been tossed.
Mason's late.
I'm not even surprised. The only thing I am worried about is the chicken drying out. Which is actually my fault, I should have known he wouldn't be on time. He never is.
I smooth down my dress and check the table again. I set it up with place mats, napkins, candles and even a small vase of flowers in the centre, wanting to make tonight really special. The berries are in the fridge, ready to be placed in the champagne flutes.
I check the time again, its twenty past seven. He was due here at seven. So only twenty minutes, not too bad.
By half past, I turn off the oven.
By forty minutes past, I blow out the candles on the table.
By five past eight, I slip off my heels, convinced he has forgotten.
When there is a knock on the door at quarter past eight, all my excitement has been drained out of me. He is an hour and fifteen minutes late, and suddenly I'm not so sure I want to see him anymore.
I leave my heels off and go to the door barefoot, opening it to find a bunch of flowers staring at me. The riot of colours is not enough to diminish my anger towards him.
"Hi, Di." He hands me the bouquet and gives me a kiss on the cheek, before entering my apartment. "Wow this place is nice."
"Hi? Is that all you have to say to me?"
He turns back to look at me and notices my bare feet. "Where are your shoes?"
Because apparently that's the most important thing right now.
"I took them off. I didn't think you were coming."
He seems puzzled, a frown crossing his face. "Why wouldn't I be coming?"
"Because you are over an hour late." I point out bluntly, taking a step away from him.
It is only then that Mason seems to take in the scene before him; the beautifully laid out table, the blown out candles and the salad that has started to wilt slightly, the lettuce curling in on itself.
"Di, I'm sorry." He crosses over to me and takes me in his arms, the flowers getting crushed between us, petals falling to the floor. The scent of alcohol floods my nostrils. "I went for a drink with the guys from work, I must have lost track of the time."
"It's fine." I sigh, not wanting to cause an argument, even though I'm still irritated. There's no point anyway, he would probably win. "We might have to order take-out though. I think dinner is ruined."
"No, no way," he insists, finally releasing me. "I'm sure it will be delicious."
He makes his way over to the table and pulls out a chair for me. "Just tell me where the drinks are Di, and I will pour us one. You relax. You've worked hard to make this night really special."
So I sit down and point him to the fridge where the champagne is, making sure to tell him about the berries as well. He pops the bottle and pours us each a flute, placing a strawberry in each glass, and bringing them over to the table.
He hands one to me and raises his in a toast, "to us!"
"To us," I echo; my voice hollow.
♡
"
That was the best chicken I have ever had, Di." Mason wipes his mouth with a napkin and places it down on the table. "It was really tasty."
He's lying. That chicken had the consistency of cardboard. It was so dry I struggled to swallow it. The salad was wilted and soggy from the feta cheese I had crumbled into it. The only good thing I can say about the meal is that the champagne was chilled. But, I appreciate the effort he's making to salvage our evening.
I try to keep a straight face but a smile creeps out anyway. "You're a terrible liar Mason."
He smirks, the corners of his lips tilting up. "Okay, fine, it wasn't the greatest. But I can tell that if I hadn't been late, it would have been delicious!" He takes my hand and places a soft kiss on my knuckles. "I really am sorry for being so late; I promise you it won't happen again."
But if I know him like I think I do, it definitely will.
"It's okay." I shrug, hating myself for being so compliant. "These things happen I guess. I just wanted to have a nice romantic evening with you because I know I won't be able to this weekend."
His brow furrows in confusion and he releases my hand, placing it back on the table between us. "Why not?"
"Remember I told you that Hailee's coming?"
"But I had plans for us this weekend." He pouts like a child and I have to admit that in this moment, he is very unattractive. Haven't we had this conversation before? I'm confused. I definitely remember us talking about this.
"But I told you Mason. When we went out for dinner the other night?" I know he hasn't forgotten. He can't have.
"I thought you might change your mind," he responds sulkily.
Typical Mason, he expects me to just abandon my plans for him. I feel my anger rising, boiling in my belly like lava. I swallow hard, trying to keep it at bay.
"Well I haven't," I tell him, my tone clipped. He needs to understand that this is something I will not budge on, no matter how much he wants me to. Mason may always get what he wants, but not this time. Not when it comes to me seeing my best friend for the first time in months.
"What am I supposed to do without my girlfriend for a whole weekend?" He asks, almost flooring me with his words.
Girlfriend.
He looks like a child that's just been told the Easter Bunny doesn't exist, and I can't help but feel bad. The fact that he has just referred to me as his girlfriend takes me all the way back to high school, when I would have given anything for him to call me that.
I relent a little bit, leaning closer to him and placing a kiss on his cheek. "You can have me next weekend."
"Fine," he says, but I can tell he is still unimpressed.
I wrap my arms around his neck and get off my chair to sit on his lap. "I'm sorry. But this is really important to me."
He looks at me for a long time, before finally placing one hand on my leg and the other on the small of my back. "It's okay, Di. I'm sorry too. I'm trying to be better, I really am."
I lean down and place my lips on his gently, which brings a smile to his face. He returns my kiss, bringing a hand up to cup my cheek. It feels like I've gone back in time to when we were teenagers, stealing sweet moments like this in the library where no one could see us.
"I'm really crazy about you, you know?" he whispers softly when he pulls away. "I'm going to miss you this weekend."
When he's like this, it's hard to imagine why I ever had any doubts in the first place. I wish that this was how it always was. Sometimes it feels so easy, so natural. And others it feels like I'm trying to push a rock up a hill.
"I will miss you too," I tell him truthfully.
One week since Mason re-entered my life and he is already referring to me as his girlfriend.
Things are sure moving faster now than they did in High School.