Page 47 of Sweeter Than Fiction

Not that I’m complaining.

Once we walk in and get seated, we order a couple of drinks and look over the menu.

Still awkward.

It’s like there’s some sort of barrier between us that doesn’t seem to exist when we are at home hanging out.

Maybe this whole thing was a terrible idea.

After our drinks come and we order, I look at Abby who seems to be having problems with her contact lenses. She’s blinking like crazy and keeps almost touching her eye but then remember she has makeup on.

The entire table shakes as her knee nervously bobs up and down. Clearly, she’s not having a good time.

“Abby,” I begin. “Are you okay?’

“What? Oh, yeah. I’m great.”

I’m not buying it.

I lean forward. “Abs, this is me. I can tell something is wrong. Did you not want to come out with me?”

Immediately, her face changes. “No! I mean that’s not it. I definitely wanted to come out with you.”

“Then, what is it? Talk to me.”

She sits quietly for a moment, and I wonder if she’s going to even bother answering me. I’m surprised when she opens her mouth and immediately starts rambling.

“Look, Don, I know you are used to women who look like this when they go out with you, but this isn’t just me. A bobby pin is digging into my scalp, my contacts are swimming around my eyeballs, and I’m fairly sure this makeup is already giving me an allergic reaction. This bra is cutting into my skin, and it makes my boobs look way bigger than they actually are. I’m wearing a thong that’s so far up my ass, I can feel it in my esophagus.”

I have to stifle a laugh at her bluntness because she’s not finished yet.

“I’m nervous and uncomfortable. I wish looking like this made me feel strong and confident, but all it does is make me feel like a painted clown. I know you’re used to models, but I wish I was still in my leggings. All I can think about is how awkward I feel…and how all I want is for you to kiss me again. So, I’m just going to tough it out.”

At this point, I’m not sure if she’s still trying to talk to me or have an argument with herself.

She does her best to compose herself. “Really, I’m okay. Let’s just try to have a good time. I’ll stop being weird.”

Sure, we could do that. But I’m not going to make her spend a moment more being uncomfortable.

Chapter Twenty

Abby

I didn’t mean to blurt all that stuff out. And doing so completely ruined our date. After I said all of that, he stood up, threw some cash on the table, and said, “Let’s go.”

He hasn’t said another word, and we are almost back home.

The whole way, only two words keep flashing in my head.

Don’t cry.

Don’t cry.

I never thought my next bad date would be bad because of me. Oh man, am I the one who Don will tell stories about to his future dates?

When we reach the door to my apartment, I unlock it and search for the words to say, anything that might salvage this cluster fuck.

But I’ve got nothing.

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