Short Romance stories

The Horrible Date

It's been six long months. Six months since my whole world turned upside down. At least, that's what I believed at the time. Six months ago, my ex-boyfriend Ryan decided to end things with me. 

The breakup hit me like a ton of bricks. For two full days, I cried nonstop, feeling like my heart was shattering into pieces. I was left with red eyes and a heavy heart, completely drained of tears. After that, I made some big changes. I spent the next two weeks transforming my look, trying to feel like a new version of myself, almost like I was shedding my old skin. It took three months, but I finally started to move on from him, piece by piece. During those last three months, I focused on spending time with my friends, laughing, and enjoying life again, which felt refreshing after all the sadness.

But that's all behind me now.

I'm Zoe by the way. At this moment, I'm heading to a date. It's a Tinder date, to be exact. A lot of people think I'm too young for this sort of thing. Sure, I'm only 19 and living in beautiful Sydney, Australia, but I'm ready to put myself out there again.

Right now, I'm in a taxi, on my way to Bellavista for dinner at the Italian Street Kitchen. The driver pulls up alongside the restaurant, and I step out with my Gucci handbag perched on my shoulder, feeling a little bit excited and nervous all at once. Since I have a bit of time before my date, I decide to wander around Bellavista.

As I stroll, I take in the beautiful scenery, especially the river that flows nearby. I notice two cute little turtles swimming around, and I can't help but smile. It's funny to think I'm getting a bit jealous of these turtles—who would have thought they'd steal my attention?

What's wrong with you? Are you seriously jealous of turtles?

Who are you?!

Your conscience, Dumbass.

Oh, whatever. I continue walking toward the street kitchen. As I push through the door of the Italian Street Kitchen, I'm taken aback. The place is gorgeous, with a welcoming vibe that makes me feel at ease.

I see my date standing across the room, and I start walking toward him, trying to look confident while I flash a big smile and wave my hand. He catches my eye and gives a small nod back. As I get closer, I notice his buzzcut is short, almost like he just got a fresh haircut.

 His blonde hair looks light and bright under the lights in the room. I can't help but notice the tattoos on his neck; they seem bold and maybe a bit intimidating.

 He's dressed casually in a pair of loose track pants and a thin, flimsy singlet that doesn't look like it offers much warmth. What stands out to me are his blue eyes. They have a sharp, almost judging quality to them, making me feel a bit uneasy but also curious about what he's thinking. 

"Hey," he greets me, his voice deep. There's just something about him that makes me uneasy.

"Hi," I reply, my voice a little high-pitched, maybe a bit awkward.

I take a seat, and he looks to be at least 25. I remember that he claimed to be 20 in his profile—it's clear he's stretching the truth by a few years. But tonight is about having fun, and I'm ready to see where this goes.

***

Asshole. Discriminative. Rude. Mean. The definition of patriarchy. These words perfectly describe Joshua, my date.

It all started on a weird note when he snapped, "Why is your dress so short?" It felt like a punch in the gut. I managed to reply, "Why does it matter? It's my body," trying to keep my cool. But then he shot back, "You women don't own your bodies. We do, men do!" as he grinned like he had just made a great point.