Chapter 20: Malaya Vermouth
Malaya stood on the corner of a cobblestoned path, fidgeting with her dress. She wrung her small hands again and again, her anxiety practically spilling out of her like water from a spout.
Her hand reached into her purse, pulling out a small handkerchief and dabbing at her nose and forehead. She never wore makeup, but today she had foolishly gone and tried it. Now she was worried about it smearing down her face.
The weather wasn't particularly hot, and the sun was about to set, but it might as well have been a sauna around her.
She had never been asked out on a date before, much less by a young man three years younger than she was. She had said yes before she even understood what was happening, and now it was too late to escape.
The thought of disappointing Theron filled her with even more anxiety than she was already drowning in.
Did she like him? Was this love?
Steam came out of her ears, the ridiculous spiral of thoughts almost making her pass out.
A hand caught her as she stumbled back.
"Are you alright?"