The Boyfriend Factory

Chapter Three

I wasn't really sure how I was supposed to call Ethan out. The Ethan Stone.

And it wasn't like we were close, or even talked. So it would be completely and utterly weird if I showed up to his last period and told him we had to go somewhere. Plus I had to consider rule number two, 'You cannot be seen out of meeting with the matchmaker'. So instead, I had simply wrote:

Kelly's

4.00pm

- E.

Would he even show? Maybe he didn't even understand my note – he could've thought it was a creepy stalker or one of the blood-hound-girls that chased after him constantly. Was it because he didn't even know where Kelly's was? Did he have practice or something? Or was he done playing this whole charade of desperately wanting his girlfriend back?

He would probably be taking a big risk just by coming here.

Maybe this was a mistake.

I sat at one of the booths at Kelly's. It was a small American fifties styled restaurant just at the outskirts of our area and a ten or fifteen minute drive or twenty if you went by bus. Though we were still miles and miles from the sea, you could almost feel the atmosphere of it and down here it was a little colder and dreary than normal.

The place was pretty quiet, soft music chiming in the background. There was also a mild smell of coffee and pancakes wafting into the air and the softest sound of chatter back in the kitchen. Not many people came here, but it was one of the places I liked to use to escape. I also made it a habit to change the meeting places of the boys I worked with.

I looked down at my watch. Ethan was fifteen minutes late. I'd never quite had a tolerance for late people, but today my nerves were particularly on edge, so this just made it twenty times worse. I drummed my fingers on the table, slightly embarrassed to be in the view of the waitress at the counter.

Gosh, she probably thought I was waiting for someone who was never going to show up. Ever.

And they probably weren't.

This is a mistake.

Then one of the most magical things happened.

I heard the chime at door sound, and it was perfect, because it really was like a million angels had sent me their blessings and fairy dust was sweeping into the room like a flood.

Ethan Stone walked through the door.

I watched his tall, dark and handsome figure sway through the restaurant doors and held my breath as he searched the place, taking it all in. And looking for me. When finally his eyes set on me somehow I'd become incapable of moving my muscles. With eyes like saucepans – he actually showed up, no frickin' way – I watched him saunter over to my direction with nonchalance. His shoulders were slumped, but less than usual. He was nervous.

His anxiety made my anxiety way worse.

I was sure he wasn't nervous about the fact of me of course, I mean, look at me. Compared to him I was a speck of dirt on the ongoing population. If anything, he was worried about what this whole meet up had in store for his relationship.

Or worried about being seen here with me.

His figure seemed to hesitate at the booth seat opposite. He stared at the bright cherry pink colour that was illuminated with a dreary blue light from the window outside. It always looked like it was about to rain around here, though it never quite did. Next Ethan decided to inspect the window, or more likely what was outside of it, which to no one's surprise, was empty streets. His gaze wondered round the restaurant again then back to the chair.