Second Chances For Failed Romances

“This is so a date!” Elyse said, bouncing off the walls as usual, overreacting.

“No, it’s not,” I said as I applied mascara on.

“If it’s not a date, then why are you putting make up on?” she smiled.

“Elyse, it’s not a date, we’re just rekindling our friendship,” I rolled my eyes as I closed the mascara tube.

“Rekindling your friendship?” she cocked a brow, “please Audrey, you two were never friends, you guys went from not saying a word to each other to making out. Unless that’s how you became friends, then sure, you guys might rekindle your friendship tonight,” she winked at me.

“Please Elyse, it’s lunch, there’s no ‘tonight’ in lunch,” I replied as I searched for lip gloss.

“Ah-huh, so you admit it is a date and you will hook up,” she nodded at me.

I turned to her, glaring at her, “no. You totally took that out of context. It’s not a date, we won’t hook up, there’s no tonight. We will just talk, and attempt to rekindle our friendship.” I turned back to the mirror and began applying lip gloss.

“Fine, deny it, you’ve always loved to deny things. But when you find yourself tongue wrestling with him, I’ll have full rights on saying ‘I told you so,’ because I totally did.”

I turned to her once more, “what the fuck are you doing in my bathroom anyways?”

She smiled victoriously and skipped outside, “enjoy.”

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“Butterfingers?” I asked as I opened the door, revealing Alex holding a bar of Butterfingers before his chest.

“I know you’re not a big fan of the cliché roses,” he shrugged, “and I also know you love Butterfingers,” he smiled handing me the bar.

I smiled and grabbed it, “thanks, but that still doesn’t make this a date.”

“I know,” he shrugged, “can I still compliment you and tell you you look good?” he asked as I stepped out of my apartment, locking the door behind me.

I sighed and turned to look at him, I did try to look good, “as long as its said in a friendly manner.”

He nodded, “then you look gorgeous today, Braddy.”

I laughed as he smiled.

“So where are you taking me to lunch in this beautiful day in California?” I asked as we stepped into his car.

“I was thinking Dairy Queen, but I couldn’t find one nearby…” he sighed as he turned on the engine, “so now I have a question for you: Chinese or Mexican?”

I smiled, “take a guess.”

He smiled back knowingly, “I’ve always been a fan of orange chicken.”

I began caving in, giving in, letting him win. Maybe it would be different this time around.