I Lost Her

I met Riley at the dance studio, but she didn't stay for long. She told me she was feeling sick when she woke up this morning so she cancelled her class. Then she suggested maybe going out for dinner later if she was feeling okay. I said that I'd go by her house at six so she didn't have to come meet me at the restaurant. I just wanted her to feel better.

I sat around my grandparents' house all day, anxiously wanting to see Riley again and watched the clock tick until five forty-five.

I was a nervous wreck, for the first time in my life, as I trudged through the snow towards Riley's house. Jesus fucking Christ, Landon, man the fuck up. It's just dinner.

I got there and walked up the steps. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door a few times then waited. Riley peered through the window right beside her front door before pulling open the door.

"I'll be back in a few hours, Dad. Love you," she called behind her, stepping outside next to me.

"After you," I told her.

"Thank you, kind sir," Riley smiled as she hopped down the steps.

"So," I began as we turned on to another street. "How'd dinner go last night with him?"

She shrugged. "Fine, I guess. It was just dinner."

I gave my head a stiff nod and kept walking.

Riley pulled her hand out of her pocket and touched my arm. I stopped in my tracks and turned to face her.

"What's wrong?" she asked me.

"Did anything go on between you and him last night?"

She shook her head. "Nothing at all, I promise you."

"Good," I smiled, believing that what she had told me was the truth. I didn't take her as a liar.

We started to walk again, and I wasn't hostile towards her anymore. I was relieved to know that he hadn't tried anything like I thought he would do. About twenty minutes later we were standing in front of a restaurant.

"Charlie's Piggin' N' Grinnin'?" I questioned, my eyebrows raised. "What the hell kind of name is that?"

She chuckled. "It is kind of goofy, isn't it?"

"Hell yeah, it is."

I followed Riley in and let her pick a booth to sit in. Shortly after, a waitress came over and brought us some drinks.

"So," I began. "What's good here?"

"I really like the pulled pork, but you can get whatever. It's all good, in my opinion."

"I think I'm going to get whatever you get," I decided as I shut my menu.

"Okay," she responded quietly with a pleased smile.

A few minutes later our waitress, Theresa, came back. "Do you two lovebirds know what you'd like?"

I saw Riley blush and look down, so I spoke up. "We're, uh, not dating or anything," I corrected, watching Riley's face fall a bit.

"Oh, my apologies," Theresa spoke. "Have you decided what you're eating, or should I come back in a few minutes?"

"No, we're ready. Can I please have the pulled pork sandwich with chips and potato salad?" Riley told her, earning a nod from the waitress. "He'll have the same thing."

"That was sort of awkward," I stated after the waitress left.

"Yeah, I know," she shrugged. "But we're not on a date, right?"

"No," I said as I watched her frown. I licked my lips quickly and looked at her. "Unless you want it to be a date," I said.

"Yeah, I do," she said quietly, blushing. "Do you want this to be a date?"

"I don't want to lie to you, Riley," I told her. "I don't know what I want or what I should do anymore. I think that I want be on a date with you, but what's going to happen when I leave?"

She looked sad. "Then we don't have to call this a date."

I let a frustrated sigh escape my lips, tugging at my hair. "That's not what I'm saying. I want this to be a date, but I'm so sick of hurting everyone who gets close to me, and I don't want you to be next. You don't deserve it. But it almost seems impossible to avoid now."

"Landon, you have to stop trying to protect me. I-I'll be fine," Riley told me quietly before looking away.

"See! I'm already hurting you, and I haven't even left yet."

Riley stifled a laugh before shaking her head. "It's not you."

I felt myself become a bit angry. "Bullshit. Don't feed me the 'It's not you, it's me' line. We both know it's me, stop trying to avoid it."

"It's not you, I promise. But it is, in a way, me."