Chapter 31: Date? (2)
They drifted out of the mall’s main gate with the excuse of "treating her".
Now they were side by side, steps matching up a little too neatly, shoes scraping the concrete path as they headed toward the park entrance like they’d made an actual plan, like there was a destination waiting for them beyond a bench or a food cart or the fountain that sometimes shot up so high kids screamed about it on MemeNet.
Except there was no plan, like at all. Just this wide, awkward silence that fell between them like a big warm blanket nobody wanted to pick up first. Lanz felt sweat tickle the back of his neck even though the breeze was so soft it tugged at the ends of Talia’s hair every time they passed under a tree.
He stuffed his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie, the same old hoodie he always wear everywhere, even though he’d told himself he should’ve left it behind if he wanted to look cool for once. Not including Zero, he personally think he looks cool.
He peeked sideways, half-expecting her to say something first, but she didn’t. Talia looked... normal, comfortable, even. Her shoulders loose, one hand playing absently with the strap of her bag, eyes flicking over the street stalls they passed like she had all the time in the world.
Meanwhile, his brain was doing somersaults, smacking against the inside of his skull with every stupid thought.
’This is basically a date, isn’t it? I mean, it’s not a date date, but... we’re walking together... alone. That’s a f*cking date. Or fake date. Or something, I don’t f*cking know!’
He cleared his throat, trying to chase the squeak out of his voice before it could betray him, but his mouth was dry. He risked another glance at her, caught the corner of her smile, not that she was grinning at him, but just at some random kid chasing pigeons up ahead.
’How is she so f*cking chill? Am I actually a loser??’ he thought, fighting the urge to tug his hood back up over his face like that would fix anything.
He sucked in a breath. Just say words, a normal person could do that. "So, uh, how’s your—"
Crack.
The noise that came out of his throat was the worst, squeakiest betrayal. It was so bad that the pigeons actually scattered, wings flapping like cheap plastic bags.