The weather had a knack of putting the pair of them in uncomfortable situations. They sat on the bench, staring at the sheet of water spilling down the roof of the bus stop. She clutched at her umbrella, fiddling with the handle. He aimlessly scrolled past others’ lives on his phone.
He looked at her from the corner of his eyes. She was making an effort to look at everywhere but towards him. Just last week, the sat in the cafe two streets away. As they sipped on their drinks, she held his gaze, commanding his attention. Even as a child, she had demanded attention and he had cluelessly followed along. And now, she wouldn’t even look in his direction.
Sure, they had fought – as they never had. But did a few harsh words and a few days of silence erase a relationship that had lasted a lifetime? And for heaven’s sake, he didn’t even know what the problem was. Taking a deep breath, he turned to her and bumped his knee against her. She jumped, startled. She finally looked at him. “The rain’s dying down. I’ll take you home,” he said.
“It’s fine,” she said quickly, avoiding his eyes again. “I’ll book a cab.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” He raised his voice slightly, feeling aggrieved. “I’m not asking to get back together, am I? Just sit on the bike, dammit.”
“I’ll sit, I’ll sit. Don’t yell,” she snapped. She snatched the helmet from his hands and walked to his bike. Taken aback, he followed her, shaking his head. They sat on the bike and he turned it on, revving the engine. As he began to drive, she knocked him on his head. “You’re such a blockhead,” she said through gritted teeth.
“What the hell? What was that for?” he yelled.
“You figure that out by yourself. And don’t talk to me until you do.”
Leave a Reply