Timer

“So, do you want to have a bite or something?” I noticed scratches along Zack’s wrist, but why they were there wasn’t any of my business for that matter. I gestured towards the restaurant, not eager to go back, but knowing full well that it was the only one within walking distance. “That’s where I work, by the way. Food’s alright.” I smirked. “Service is great.”

“Uh, sure,” Zack mumbled. He looked down at his feet and shuffled to the door.

“Watch out, there’s a step up.” He continued looking sad as fuck, and I frowned. This wasn’t exactly what I had imagined, mostly because we didn’t seem compatible at all. I scratched the back of my neck uncomfortably. “So, um, booth or table? Or we can sit at the bar if you like?”

“Uh, bar.” Zack’s voice was quiet, but pleasant and moderately deep from what I could hear. I pulled some menus from the hostess stand - damn, Katie, do your job a little less would you? - and led him to a couple bar stools.

“Here’s your seat, my name is Jack, I’ll be your date this afternoon.” I smiled, and sat down next to him. “Zack, right? Tell me about yourself.” I flipped open my menu, an empty gesture because there was only one thing I ever ordered here, a rum and coke and a burger, eaten at all times of day and night.

“My name’s Zack,” he grimaced, laughing a choked uncomfortable laugh. “Um, I’m nineteen, I graduated last year. I like music. I used to play bass. I like pasta, is there pasta here?”

I smiled. “Yeah. I’m Jack, obviously. I’m twenty three and I didn’t go to college because there was nothing I wanted to study. I play guitar, we should jam sometime.” Just as I finished speaking, Katie the Waitress came to take our order. “If you don’t know by now what I want, I’m going to quit and fire you.”

“Yeah, yeah, and for your soulmate?” She teased, pen poised above the pad. Zack had barely whispered his order, but she had picked up on it anyways. “Alright, I’ll be back with your orders in twenty.”

Zack still looked sad, miserable at best, and I was sad too. Was that a part of having a soulmate, because if so I did not sign up for this. “Listen, if you aren’t having a good day, or you’re disappointed with me, or something, just tell me. You look upset and it sucks.” Shit, Jack, confrontational much? God damnit.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was not expecting... I was kind of thinking that you” he looked conflicted, screwing up his face and blushing pale pink. “Nothing.”

I groaned internally. I will never understand why people start sentences they know that they don’t have the courage to finish. Do they want you to pursue the issue? Do they want you to drop it? Is it a control thing? I legitimately don’t understand. But from the barely nothing I knew about him, I figured that he probably wasn’t the type that enjoyed being hounded for answers, so I left him alone. “Okay.” And conversation went downhill from there.

We discussed the living hell out of the weather, and we both got to thoroughly examine our nails. I was forever grateful when our food arrived, and the bar and restaurant began to fill up around us. The food was pronounced “good” and “nice” several thousand times, as were each others’ hair and tops.

In all honesty, I was happy when I got to go home. I hadn’t felt that awkward since highschool.