Not a DateMature

Briony

I concentrated very hard on the road in front of me. What the hell was I doing? Max was going to think it was a date date. But it wasn't. It was just an apologetic... meeting. Yes, that was it. Meeting. Work related or not, it would just be a meeting, designed specifically as an apology for my selfish behavior. 

I was in such a mess. My head was scrambled. My brain told me to turn around, go home, pretend that I was ill or something, and then tomorrow continue being the complete bitch that Maximus thought I was. But every other inch of my body was urging me to get to Macdonalds as fast as I could.

It was an full on battle, and it was tearing me to pieces, though if someone had been looking at me they wouldn't have been able to tell. Before I left, I had set my face to a perfectly composed calmness, and it was not going to change. Not for anything. Not if he really upset me or pissed me off. Not if he made me really, really happy. I would betray no emotion, and that way he would never know. 

The traffic lights turned red just as I flicked my eyes towards them, and I slowed to a stop, fidgeting in my seat before I even got to them. Dilemmas, in my book, were one of the worst things. My fingers tapped on the steering wheel as I contemplated for the hundredth time whether it would be worth going back to my flat.

Yes, going back would be the perfect thing to do. I mean, I did suppose that he'd stood up an unfair few girls in his time. Although, now I knew him a bit better, it was harder to imagine him doing that. But if I went back now it wouldn't technically count as standing him up. I would just tell him that I had been on my way (which I was), and then I'd suddenly been hit by a wave of nausea (which I was pretty close to) and had to go home. It would be the smallest white lie in the history of white lies. 

But actually turning up was looking pretty good too. I would get to know Max better, and I did actually like spending time with him. Well, at least when he wasn't being a douche, and he was becoming less of a douche every day. Also, not going might make him feel like crap. But if he did, wouldn't that mean he thought it was a date date? The risk was too high. But he might think it was a date date if I went. But I didn't want to let him down.

Oh the frustration.

The lights turned green and I moved forward with the rest of the traffic. No matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise, I already knew I had decided to go. If I didn't want to go, I wouldn't have suggested it. Though it could have been a heat of the moment thing. 

As I pulled into the car park of my most hated fast food restaurant, I saw Max standing on the pavement waiting for me. He smiled and waved when he saw my car, and I nodded my head in acknowledgement. 

I closed my eyes and sighed before I got out of the car. All I had to do was keep enforced in my mind that this was not a date. This was an apology. And it was. Not. A. Date.

The End

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