Reminisce

The restaurant is dimly lit, which is exactly how she likes it. Since she had reminded him, he couldn’t quite figure out why she likes to dine in the dark. He would much rather be somewhere bright and open, where he could see her features more clearly. Not only does he want to admire her, but he also thinks that a stuffy restaurant is a pretty piss-poor option for a first date. It wasn’t really their first date, but they hadn’t seen each other since their dramatic breakup in their sophomore year of college. Perhaps a restaurant with outdoor seating and fairy lights would have been the better setting for this kind of reconnection, but he knew that she would have complained about it throughout the entire meal. He also knew that if he had bought her dessert in that scenario, all would have been forgiven and forgotten the moment the waiter served whatever her sweet tooth was craving.

“I told you I’d be ready at six o’clock,” she taunts. The way that she’s watching him is like an investigator looking to crack a suspect. He knows that she’s looking to bicker. He used to like that game, so he takes the bait.

“I told you I’d be there at six fifteen.” He leans forward, flashing a toothy grin. He figures that she’ll appreciate the sarcasm behind such an act, and he’s absolutely right. She laughs and shakes her head in that I’ve missed you kind of way.

“You look rather dapper this evening.” She conducts a once over of his appearance as she compliments him. He has more product in his hair than usual, and instead of a sarcastic print t-shirt, he’s sporting an ironed button up. A smile stretches over his lips, as if he had been waiting for her approval all night. For all she knows, this could be his daily look now.

“As do you,” he replies. She had done her makeup a little different than usual. It’s much shinier than her everyday look. At least, he imagines that it is. He comes to observe that she had also used some sort of hair product, which makes him smile. She used to complain about how much hairspray her roommate used in college. He also takes note of her low cut dress. That detail he tries not to linger on, since it’s rather ungentlemanly, but he can't seem to help himself after all these years.

“Your beard is getting long,” She points out. Her tone is difficult to place as he looks up from her chest. He watches her take a sip of her drink. Her lipstick leaves a dark red ring around the straw. Suddenly self-conscious about his facial hair, he rubs his palm against his chin. “I like it,” she adds. 

“You sure?” He challenges. The edge to his tone surprises both of them.

“When have I ever lied to you?” She shakes her head with a genuine smile, admiring his beard once more. 

He thinks about this question for a moment. If anything, she had always been too honest. He remembered her being quite the handful, and a lot of people would probably run scared after a date with her. She had been like that since high school. It was one of the things he loved most about her until she broke his heart.

“Good point.” He stirs the straw around his drink to avoid eye contact with her. He hadn't thought about why he loved her for quite some time, and it was strange to have that feeling rising back to the surface.

“I make a lot of those, old man.” She jokes, a smile spreading across her neatly made up face.

“I’m only a year older than you,” he sighs. He knew that she would use that nickname sometime tonight. It’s always been the quickest way for her to shake him up. Only this time it doesn't feel like friendly fire to him.

“That means three hundred and sixty five, or so, more days of experience than me.” She says this in a sing-song voice, making him roll his eyes immediately.

Before he’s able to offer a rebuttal to her argument, there’s a sudden clatter from across the restaurant. Both of them turn curiously to watch an awkward busboy crawl around the carpeted ground to collect broken pieces of the plate that had just hit the floor. 

“A bit of a klutz, isn’t he?” She’s facing her date while she talks, but her eyes remain fixed on the boy. She flinches when he pricks his finger on a splinter of glass. 

“Leave him alone, I’ve been there.” He waves her off with a dismissive hand motion, shaking his head. She arches an eyebrow at him, tilting her head to the side with curiosity. For the first time in a couple minutes, he smiles, “I used to be a busboy, you know.” 

“I remember all too well,” she laughs lightly. “You brought it up during our first date all those years ago because you used to work at the restaurant.” She shakes her head with a nostalgic sigh, then pulls her drink closer to her for another sip.

“Don’t talk like it was a million years ago, we aren’t washed up yet.” His tone is slightly offended. His attention is now fully focused on the radiant woman before him rather than a busboy he saw himself in. 

“You’re not the one on a date with you again.” Her face is smug as she speaks. 

He lets out a sarcastic laugh. Of course, he knows that he’s an oddball. Being able to take this much of her over-the-top personality is somewhat a talent, though.

“That’s right, you are.” He bites his lip to brace himself for what he’s going to say next. “After you told me that you didn’t love me anymore and left to do that program abroad, here you are on a date with me all over again.”

“You asked me,” she frowns. “Is this what you wanted? To finally tell me off for a mistake I made in college?”

He swallows hard. The truth was that he did want to do that at first, but the moment he saw her again he nearly changed his mind. Now, he’s just desperate and confused. He shakes his head, too embarrassed to look her in the eye.

“Well, do you want to know why I came?” She asks softly. Her tone lost the edge from before when he shrunk back into himself. She had always hated watching him do that to himself.

“To call me old man again, for old time’s sake,” he attempts a joke to lighten the mood that he himself had created.

“No.” She purses her lips. “I came to show you that I’m different, now.”

“You still seem like the girl I loved before,” he nearly whispers. 

“You tend to bring her out of me.” She smiles softly, reaching for his hand across the table.

“I guess I could say that I’m different too,” he admits. “Maybe I asked you out because I thought I was different enough for you to love.”

She sits back like she’d been physically affected by his words. Nothing could have prepared her for that kind of confession, despite her own being somewhat deep as well.

“I was just a kid,” she whispers. “I didn’t know what love was…”

“You seemed pretty sure that we didn’t have it,” he chuckles sadly.

“I was stupid.” She shakes her head.

A silence takes over the table, and for a minute they both stare off into space. There was a lot to sort through, and neither of them were quite prepared for it. It wasn’t exactly first date material, even if it wasn’t technically their first date.

“Do you still have the ring?” She asks, almost afraid of the answer.

“No.”