stood up on a date? write about it

Apologies again for the late posting. This is an unfortunate trend. Chelsea and I have decided to start posting our writings on Sunday to give us more time between critiques for edits and such. Perhaps that'll be a more achievable deadline for me  :P

So! This week's writing challenge was to write about a guy who gets stood up on a date. We originally set the word limit at 300 but expanded it because we both needed more room. Guys, frankly, this one kicked my trash. For one, I'm not a guy, and for another, I've never actually been stood up on a date so I had two fairly big strikes against me to begin with and they certainly had their way with me. So to anyone who decides to read my response, I'm apologize for the weak character development, etc.

Chelsea's, however, is fantastic! Enjoy:

Running a hand through his day old hair, Dan knew he should have showered. He stared out the coffee shop's window, cars whizzing by through puddles. He waited to see Fae’s black umbrella bob up and down in front of the cafe's window.

He waited some more and drank the last of his coffee.

Dan pressed a button on his cell phone. Six minutes past twelve thirty. Where could she be? Our office is just down the block. Our lunch breaks were at the same time. We planned this. Oh, no—hold it together, man.

"Hey, Rachel?"

Rachel, the lunch shift barista, walked by and stopped at his table.

"Could I get a refill?"

“Another? If I didn’t know any better, you look a little nervous.”

Dan blushed. “Is it that easy to see?”

“Maybe a little,” She laughed, a husky kind of laugh, and took his cup back behind the counter. He watched her refill it, add some cream, and she looked at him. They kept each other’s eye contact as she returned to his table.

"Thank you."

"No prob,” she said and smiled then cleaned the front window.

He pulled back his hair and tied it in a small ponytail. He tapped his fingers on top of the wooden table. Thirty nine minutes late.

His cell phone lit up and vibrated. He grabbed it.

He read the sparse text message. Fae said the lunch date slipped her mind but they could reschedule if he wanted. Dan re-read the message three times and then put the phone down on the table. He got up from his table, put on his coat, and looked out the café window. Everything was gray.

“Dan?” Rachel asked.

He didn’t hear her.

“What’s wrong?”

She took a step forward and laid a hand on his shoulder. He blinked a couple of times and then looked at her. “You wanna get out of here?”

“I work til three.”

“Oh.”

“I’d ditch if you’d ditch.”

Dan laughed in surprise. “You know what? Yeah. Let’s ditch.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“I’ll go get my coat. I’ll be just a second.”

She went to a back room and came out with her black coat buttoned up, the hem just hitting her knees. Her work uniform gone, he took in her purple tights and yellow high heels. He tightened his ponytail and licked his lips.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I don’t think that matters,” Dan said.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Rachel marched ahead of him, opened the café door, a small bell tingled, and Dan followed. She opened her yellow umbrella and turned back to him.

The rain smelled so good.

Feel like taking the plunge and writing your own scene? Email it to me at emily.buhler.loveless@gmail.com and I'll post it here!