What Comes Next; A Short Story

What Comes Next

Sipping on her tall glass of ice tea, she peered over the rim to eye down the boy sitting in front of her. In reality he was no boy at all, at least not in the sense of childhood. But he wasn't really a man either. He had no traits to define as a real man, not really. No hair peaking on his jaw, no muscle attached to his bones. For a 23 year old he barely met a good height. Besides the most basic elements that defined him, it was his demeanor that really changed the way she saw him in this moment. She felt terrified at what was sitting across from her. This is not the man she had known previous to this day. He sat with his back so slouched it seemed he wanted nothing more than to just lie on the ground. His eyes are telling her he hasn't slept. The bruises on his arms explained, now holding a completely new meaning. And he's not smiling. She would feel a lot better right now if she saw that smile.

Her arm feeling weak with emotions, she placed the glass back down on the restaurant table with a shaky hand. She let it linger for a moment to feel the beads of cold sweat drip down the glass and onto her fingertips. The world was moving very slowly, like it could just stop all together.

"I know you don't have all the answers right now Gregory, but what do we do next? I mean short term, I'm not trying to pressure you about what you're going to.. well you know," she asked, rushing into an explanation. She's never been insecure with her words before. But then again she had never really been in a situation like this before.

Gregory looked into her eyes with a mild sense of shock. "We?"

"Well, I guess I just assumed I'd be there with whatever you're doing with all this. Whatever this is." She didn't like this conversation. She was just so unsure of herself.

"Angie, it's okay if you want to break up with me. I mean we haven't even been dating that long. What's two months in the long scheme of things? Actually, I take that back, I don't really know what or how long the scheme of things really are anymore. Anyways, what I'm trying to say is that the coming months -or years even- would be a heavy commitment. And we certainly haven't exchanged any rings or vows, so I'm not asking you to make this commitment," he spoke frantically, holding deep eye contact through every syllable trying to establish his point.

A pregnant pause fell between them.

Angie saw in his eyes that he really meant what he said. Not in a mean way like he was trying to get rid of her, but in a way that made it seem like he was showing mercy but giving her an out.

"I don't know about you, but I've had a pretty fun 2 months. I finally caught a break with a decent man, and I am not letting God come along and screw this up for me," Angie spoke with a smile that was almost genuine.

In the back of her mind she was trying to be light hearted and charming, but in actuality she was sad and confused by the recent events. She worried her reassuring smile was coming off as more fake than anything.

Greggory didn't seem to notice how hard she was trying to seem okay.

"Are you sure? Because I-"

"Yes, I'm absolutely sure. I swear," She said pointedly, cutting him off.

Greggory picked up his hand from where it was resting nervously in his lap. Sticking it out in front of him with his pinky up and his eyebrow quirked he said, "pinky promise?"

Angie couldn't help but laugh. "Pinky promise."

She picked her pinky up, still slightly wet from the glass of ice tea, and laced it with his. Together they lifted their hands, lowered them, and then let go.

Angie knew that the man sitting in front of her was still the same man she knew before. But now he just has more layers. Deeper layers. Apparently now so does she. Like an onion. Or an ogre.