Seven: Maybe

I departed, heading from Andrea's flat to my car. I drove the short way from her building to my townhouse, pondering over the conversation we shared. She was one of the most interesting girls I had ever met.

I parked my car, shuffling into my townhouse and flicking on the lights. Yawning, I walked to the bedroom, changing into my neatly folded pajamas and slipping beneath the covers. Pickles gazed at me, annoyed from her spot on my bed, hissing before scattering out of the room.

Sighing, I flopped down on my pillow. Another lonely night. I smiled to myself, my eyes dropping closed. Though dinner was a little less lonely.


I sat on the bench, watching cars drift about the parking lot in front of the bank. My lunch bag crinkled as I unrolled the top of it, taking out my sandwich. "Heyo, Keith," came the voice of my co-worker as he sat beside me. I held back a sigh, scooting over to make room for the guy.

"Hi Harry," I said, not helping an irritated edge in my voice.

"Ate dinner with the TV last night, I suppose?"

"What?" I furrowed my brow, drawing back from him slightly. "What kind of question is that?"

Harry chuckled, "It's well known your not a 'partying' type."

Now I really sighed, considering standing from my bench and walking away. Though I mumbled anyways, "No, I actually ate out last night."

"A date? With a girl?" Harry seemed impressed. I really wished I hadn't said anything.

"Actually, yes." I grumbled. "I don't know why you should find it so surprising."

"Gonna go out with her again?"

"She said 'maybe'."

"Ouch," grimaced Harry. "In woman-speak, that's a 'no'. You going to try to call her, though?"

"Yeah...," I replied, but then paused. "....wait, she didn't give me her number."

Harry laughed, slapping me across the back, "It's over man. She was weirded out by you. You won't see her again."

My heart sank. The evidence he presented was true. Harry continued, as he saw my shoulders slump, "Oh, it's alright Keith. Meeting girls is a 'trial-and-error' process. When I met my first wife, I had been through a countless number of girlfriends, just came across her by chance."

"First wife?"

"Yeah, just got divorced. Guess it wasn't meant to be!" he laughed. "Hey, me and the boys are going to the bar tonight. Why don't you come? No doubt there will be some real pretty women who will like you. You're a bit of a good-looking guy. C'mon, it will be fun."

", thanks Harry." I shook my head, absorbed in my own thoughts.

Harry gave a hearty chuckle, standing from his seat, "Well, maybe another time." With that, the man left, to my great relief.

Weirded out? By what? My clothes, my hair, my beard, my shoes? Did I say anything insulting? I quickly went through an overview of the evening-I thought it had been a good night, and she acted pretty normally. She could've been faking it.

I stuffed my sandwich in the bag, barely nibbled at. I slouched over, resting my elbows on my knees and running my hands over my face.

Harry was right. As much as I liked her, I would never see her again.

The End

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