Red Queen One Shots

The date

5:50

I let out a long sigh after checking my phone for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past five minutes. It wasn't anything fancy really. Just a beat up flip phone that had been in my family for what I assumed was generations. Playing with it did help with my nervous energy but now I was exhausted. Was he really not going to show up? I checked through my texts again, hoping to see one from him, but alas, there was nothing.

The restaurant that we had chosen was nice enough, not too overdone. It had a modernish rustic kind of feel to it. But most importantly it didn't require me to wear a dress and that's really what counted. I'd dressed up in a white crop top with black and white striped flowing pants paired with my favourite choker and sunglasses. The outfit was perfect for a hot summer day, but now as evening quickly approached, a chill began to set in the air. 

Fiddling with the neatly folded napkins was a nice way to ignore the pitying glances of those around me. I flipped my phone open again. 6:01. I gritted my teeth. As much as I tried to fight it, I was getting annoyed. Like spit at your feet and flip you off kind of annoyed. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the same kindly waitress who has asked my order twice in the past hour already. This time I was debating on just getting a takeout and taking a cab home.

"Would you like to order now, miss?" A knowing glint was in her eyes. I smiled thinly at her, hands in a death grip around the water glass as I brought it to my lips. "You know what, thank you for asking Theresa, but I think I'll just leave." That's right. I'd been here so long I even knew her name without needing to glance at the silver tag clipped at her chest. "Why don't you get something to take home first, dear?" she suggested. "It's on the house."

This time my smile was genuine. "Thank you," I said. I knew what I wanted without even looking at the menu. I'd spent my first hour waiting here memorizing it. If they needed a new waitress I was sure I would get the job without even blinking. "I'll have the chicken fettuccine alfredo, please." Theresa scribbled it on her notepad then looks up to smile at me. "I'll be back in a few minutes, you just wait right here."

"It's not like I have anything better to do," I mutter as she walks away. I sighed again, this time at the irony of that statement. Thankfully the wait for my food wasn't long. Theresa handed me the bag. I thanked her again and rose from my seat hoping to scurry out the door without anyone staring at the miserable girl who's date didn't come. It wasn't working. I could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes on me. My cheeks heated in anger and embarrassment. Perhaps I would use my time while eating to plot how I would make him pay for this. Ignore his texts all week maybe. Or I could post an embarrassing photo of him and tag all our friends. Hmm, so many options.

I was so caught up in my revenge plot that I didn't even notice the boy who has sunk into the set across from me in the booth giving me an apologetic smile. He shook out his leather jacket and placed it beside him. "Sorry I'm so late, babe, traffic is crazy right now," he says loudly enough for the whole room to hear. My eyes must be as wide as saucers as I gape at him. "I'm Cal, by the way. Just go with it, yeah? Whoever didn't bother to show up is a complete dick," he quietly adds. I force myself to relax for the eyes still watching us. I guess I had to go along with whatever the hell this was. My hand tightened on my bags, prepared to bolt if this stranger was really just a jerk who thought picking on me would be funny. Relax, breathe. "Of course, I understand. But you're here now and that's all that counts," I say smoothly, fighting to keep my voice from shaking. What the hell kind of situation was this? I cursed in my head. Trouble seemed to trail me wherever I went. My response silences the whispers and giggles. The words sounded warm and charming though I felt anything but.

Say something else Mare, the poor fool is just sitting there looking at you. Oh right. "I'm Mare. Mare Barrow," I introduce myself to this odd stranger. Well odd was one word for him. Another was jaw-dropping. Stunning. Hot. It was unfair how attractive he was with that glossy black hair in a messy bed head kind of style that suited him paired with warm amber eyes that looked like flickering flames when they hit a certain light. He had a nice stubble along his cheeks and chin and was dressed in a casual green sweater and blue jeans with his brown leather jacket. His lips curled into an amused smile when he noticed me checking him out and I blushed furiously. Something about him was oddly familiar and I couldn't put my finger on it.