The History Paper
“Alright,” you sighed. “It’ll be nice to take a break from studying anyway. As long as I’m home early.” You leaned back in your desk chair and propped the phone between your ear and shoulder so you could stretch your arms.
“I promise.” He sounded smug and you knew there was a stupid smirk plastered to his face. "It's nice you're coming, I think it'll be good for you -- you're too introverted."
You rolled your eyes. "I've told you before, I just like being alone. Besides, people are draining to be around." At his scoff, you teased, "or, maybe you're just not as charming as you think you are, so I avoid going anywhere with you."
He laughed, "no that can't be it." He hummed as if thinking about other options.
You smiled before redirecting the conversation back to the reason he called. “What time are we going and are we meeting there?”
“9:00? And no, don’t worry about it; I’ll pick you up.”
“I don’t know how many times I need to break this to you, Chase,” you sighed for what felt like the millionth time in the 5 minutes you’ve been on the phone, “but your driving terrifies me.” You idly fiddled with your notes and papers, absentmindedly straightening them. “I was more asking if we were meeting at your house first.”
“That hurts,” Chase said with feigned insult. “And to answer your question, meeting at the bar is good.”
. . . . . .
You bounced your leg and checked your watch: 9:32. Biting your lip, you reread the text Chase sent you with the address of the club. After confirming you were in the right place, you scanned the parking lot for his car. Too scared to go in alone, you sat in your car, hoping he'd show up soon. You flipped through the radio stations, but nothing was on. Finally growing too impatient, you pulled out your phone and called him.
"Hey. Where are you? I've been waiting outside for like half an hour." You made no attempt to hide the frustration in your voice.
"Oh, that's where you are. I've been inside." He sounded obnoxiously amused by the situation.
"I don't want to go in alone! Why didn't you call me or something?"
"Hold on, I'll be right there." He hung up.
“I promise.” He sounded smug and you knew there was a stupid smirk plastered to his face. "It's nice you're coming, I think it'll be good for you -- you're too introverted."
You rolled your eyes. "I've told you before, I just like being alone. Besides, people are draining to be around." At his scoff, you teased, "or, maybe you're just not as charming as you think you are, so I avoid going anywhere with you."
He laughed, "no that can't be it." He hummed as if thinking about other options.
You smiled before redirecting the conversation back to the reason he called. “What time are we going and are we meeting there?”
“9:00? And no, don’t worry about it; I’ll pick you up.”
“I don’t know how many times I need to break this to you, Chase,” you sighed for what felt like the millionth time in the 5 minutes you’ve been on the phone, “but your driving terrifies me.” You idly fiddled with your notes and papers, absentmindedly straightening them. “I was more asking if we were meeting at your house first.”
“That hurts,” Chase said with feigned insult. “And to answer your question, meeting at the bar is good.”
. . . . . .
You bounced your leg and checked your watch: 9:32. Biting your lip, you reread the text Chase sent you with the address of the club. After confirming you were in the right place, you scanned the parking lot for his car. Too scared to go in alone, you sat in your car, hoping he'd show up soon. You flipped through the radio stations, but nothing was on. Finally growing too impatient, you pulled out your phone and called him.
"Hey. Where are you? I've been waiting outside for like half an hour." You made no attempt to hide the frustration in your voice.
"Oh, that's where you are. I've been inside." He sounded obnoxiously amused by the situation.
"I don't want to go in alone! Why didn't you call me or something?"
"Hold on, I'll be right there." He hung up.