❛ SUPERMARKET FLOWERS ♪ ❜ - z. herron

eight: her date.

The clock reads "6:00 AM". My alarm hasn't even gone off, but I've been so restless that it was practically impossible to sleep. Am I really about to take a 40-minute train ride to see a guy who wants nothing to do with me after tomorrow? Or even take a 40-minute train ride to be stood up?

Fuck it. What's there to lose?

Em has always said I'm too comfortable. I go to the same book store, order the same food, and listen to the same music. She's tried to find every single way to push me out of my comfort zone. So when I told her about the "date," I've probably never seen someone's expression change so fast. She was so unbelievably excited for me that she was almost skeptical that I made it up. Why is it that everyone is excited but me? What if I show up and he backs out? What if the date goes bad?

"Then it sucks and you move on." I hear my best friend's voice in the back of my head. I'm gonna go on this date for her and her only. The things I do for her are uncanny. I groan, pulling myself out of bed and getting ready for the day.

*

As I walk into the park, I look down at my phone, "7:50," it reads. That gives me the perfect amount of time to start reading, and if he stands me up, I can keep reading and act like nothing will have happened. Jesus, Kira, we've got to work on convincing.

Right now, I'm wearing probably one of my favorite fits I've put together in a while. It's pistachio puffer over black slacks that I thrifted. I'm wearing my standard black docs, and my hair is tied up in a ponytail with a fuzzy headband to cover my ears but still let my hoops peek out. As I sit and read, the cold February air blows around me. I get more anxious as time goes on and realize that, most likely, he won't show up. My heart feels a slight pang, and I remember why I don't step out of my comfort zone. I don't like feeling like this, this exact feeling. 

I look back down at the time to see it be "8:15", I think it's officially time for me to leave.

As I stand up, putting my book back into my battered backpack, I scan the people around the fountain one last time to see him. It's surrounded by couples, kids, and even teenagers enjoying the fresh snow. Even if I got stood up, at least people around me are happy. I continue to look.

Nope, nowhere to be found.

"Now you don't think I'd let you off the hook that easy," A voice behind me says. I immediately jump and look behind me. I look, and I'm met with the same brown eyes.

"I thought that-" I whisper quietly.

"Babe, you've got to get used to me being late," He says, acting as though we've known each other our whole lives. He's in the same puffer he wore on the train over a grey hoodie with black jeans and the same chains, but instead of boots, he's wearing grey converses and no beanie.

"Hey!" he says, "My eyes are up here." he says, gesturing to his face. 

Oh, so I've been accidentally checking him out twice now, cool glad we are on a roll.

"First, I'm not your babe. Second, I'm not checking you out, I don't even-" I say but get cut off.

"You don't even know me, yeah yeah, I've gotten the spiel a couple times now."

I swear if this boy cuts me off one more time.