Apartment 311

Ch | 47

Brooklyn Noelle Brankovich

Chapter Forty-seven: "Date night at restaurant 305"

Another week passed, doing the same things. Work, volleyball, repeat. I'm not saying I'm bored or unhappy, but something seemed like it was missing.

And that something, is actually a someone. What? It's hard being a hot - if I may say so myself - eligible bachelorette in LA. Everyone who's everyone is taken, and if you're not that means you're, like, ugly.
After realizing what I had with Will was hardly a relationship, because it was more so me being his trophy or puppet, I now know what I want and what to expect from the next guy. Whoever that may be since, you know, SOMEBODIES off limits. Note the sarcasm.

I stared down the window and looked at the parking lot only to see Noah washing Cassie's new car. He had on no shirt, only a pair of shorts and his sneakers. His curls were pushed back by a thin headband that I loved when he wore like that. I could hear the laughter and loud music he played. It's Pop Smoke's "Got It On Me" - Noah's self proclaimed theme song.

I pushed off the window sill, sighing, and went to prepare my breakfast.

As I paraded around in my new dress, I checked my phone for messages.

My eyes rolled when I saw Will's name so I ignored it and scrolled to the thread with Melinda. She said she was in town doing some shopping and couldn't wait to see me for lunch.

The time on the stove said it was 11:34 AM and I was going to meet my old maid for lunch after noon.

All of a sudden, there was a knock on the door. I slouched in place, mad because I was about to eat, but I got up to answer it.

"Hey, girl," Noah said, "oh- you look good. Trying on dresses for tonight?" He smirked, lifting my hand to spin me and get a full look.

"About that," I winced, pulling him inside, "I don't know if I'm up for it." Noah's face fell.

The night before, we hooked up and during some pillow talk, I might've mentioned us going on a date. Those weren't my exact words, neither of us called it a date, but it's what I meant: two friends, doing something, getting to know each other better. Only, he got all weird on me and kept going "we can't because work" blah blah blah blah blah. So when I threatened to leave, he gave in. And it's not like it was romantic either. He went, "fine. We can find something to do." Wow. A modern day Romeo, right?

"Noah, I don't wanna force you to date me. If you want to go on a date, then you'll ask me when you want to go on a date. That's like saying, 'you can come if you want' instead of 'I want you to come.' Get it?"

"No," he held up the counter and responded plainly, "Fuck, Brooklyn, I don't see a difference."

I paced, flailing my arms. "Well that's the problem."

"Are you okay? I feel like everything I say is wrong with you lately," Noah sighed, swiping his palm down his glistening face, "Can we start over?" I nodded, my chin in the palm of my hand to show my disinterest.

Noah stepped outside, knocked, and then let himself back inside of my apartment. "Hello, beautiful, how are you?" I blinked at him, unamused. He continued. "Wow," Noah talked, "that dress looks great on you! What are your plans for the day?" His voice was robotic and sarcastic.

I smoothed out my dress and smiled. "I'm meeting an old family-friend for lunch, she's in town visiting for a couple of days."

"That's lovely," he continued with the customer service voice, "um, when will you be back, may I ask?"