>The table was silent after the waiter came by to offer water.
>Inco was looking down at his plate. What horrid luck. Of all the people to end up on a blind date with...
>He looks up. There sits Mia, in a surprisingly simple dress (A pinkish-reddish-violet, as is to be expected), staring a hole into him silently.
>Her hair is different. Gone are the low-hanging bangs of her Senior year, replaced by an assymetrical blunt bob. It actually looks quite nice on her.
"...Well? You gonna say somethin'?"
>He sighs. No point in delaying things.
"...Hi, Mia. Didn't know you were, ah... y'know."
"What, dating? Ben and I broke up in Freshman year. I'm not doing long distance."
>I cringe.
"...Did Ben take it well?"
>She shrugs, grabbing a piece of bread and spreading butter over it.
"What do you think?"
>The cringe evolves into an uncomfortable grimace.
"If you're done quizzing me about my high school boytoy, I should ask you the same thing. Weren't you Miss Better-Than-Everyone's little helper? What, did she kick you out of your doghouse?"
>Yeah. This is what I was afraid of. Even a year after our breakup, my instinctual need to defend that... that... woman flares up. It doesn't have the energy to go anywhere, though. It's been ground down to a nub.
"I... No. We, ah, broke up a year ago."
>Her eyebrow raises. She's looking up at me, paused mid-bite of the bread. There's some chewing and swallowing before I get a response.
"Huh. She really did get tired of you, then, huh?"
"What? No!"
>I force myself to settle down a bit. I hadn't meant to raise my voice.
"...I mean, no. She, we... Things were rough. We weren't working out, and there was a fight and... and we broke up after it."
>Uncomfortable memories force their way back into my mind. Her shock. Her anger. Her desperation. She was wailing when I packed my bags.
>God, I abandoned her.
>No. I didn't. Don't think that way, Inco, things will get worse again. You couldn't keep living like that.