Strings (1 of 2)

The next week flies by between work, my friends, and Nathan. We spend most weeknights at his apartment and the weekend at my house when my parents and Anna are away. 

Anna almost caught us once on Friday. I thought she had left already when she knocked on my door and I had to hide Nathan in my closet. He didn't find it as hilarious as I did... 

On Monday, I talked my dad out of getting cameras installed around the house entrances. He is obsessed with the idea that someone is coming in his office at home, to the point of worrying me. 

I don't worry for my safety - I am sure no one is coming in the house. I worry for him. WebMD says it could be a brain tumour... but Matt always did say I was a hypochondriac. I want to suggest he see a doctor but frankly I'm too nervous for the potential results to push the topic on my mother. 

Although, I'm sure she is probably already thinking it... he has been taking out most of his frustration on her. They fight constantly. Almost as much as before Matt died. They came together afterwards, but maybe that was a band aid in their marriage.

I push the thought away as I straighten my hair in my bathroom mirror. I don't want to think about their marriage falling apart. I can't handle that right now. As selfish as that sounds - no, is - I can't.

I just need to get through tonight. Mark's friend moved our dinner to tonight, Friday, instead of last weekend because of some emergency at the hospital. Nathan was ecstatic, of course. I, on the other hand, was not - and am still not - since this is just delaying the inevitable.

This dinner is a complete waste of my time. And his. Nothing will come of it. I already know I'm not interested and I feel a little guilty for leading this guy on for even a first date.

I put on mascara and a small amount of blush. Just enough makeup to look presentable, but not enough to be considered trying. I pair my white crop top with a blue high waisted jean skirt and white tennis shoes and head downstairs to wait for him.

Nathan told me he is working tonight at the hotel but he wants me to come after. I'm not surprised, really. I know he will want reassurance that this went terribly. He has been cooler about this date than I expected, so I guess I owe him that much. I also know that we have been together each night since he apologized last week. I'm used to sleeping next to him now. I'm not sure I want to stop tonight just because of this dinner.

I'm also not sure why I ever agreed to this. I don't even know his name. I don't know what he looks like. I don't know if he is a serial killer... great, and now he knows where I live thanks to Santana suggesting he pick me up. This was all around a completely stupid idea.

The doorbell rings and I walk quickly to get it.

Please don't be a serial killer, I pray in my head as I turn the handle and pull open the door.

I stare at my date with wide eyes and my mouth falls open. How is this possible?

"Chris?!" I say, shocked. I look him over quickly, noting his dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt under his jacket.

His big eyes and raised eyebrows tell me he is just as confused as I am.

"You're Santana's friend?" He asks, the familiarity of his voice coming back.

I nod. "You're Mark's friend?"

He nods and rubs the back of his neck with one hand as he shakes his head.

"What a small world." We both say at the same time and then meet each other's eyes and laugh.

After the laughter dies down, we stare at each other for a moment. I'm not sure what to say... is this silence awkward for him too?