Breakfast

“We really should leave”

Flicking my companion what I hoped was a fear-provoking glare, I turned my attention back to the reason we were still seated long after our delightful desert had been served. 

“Could you at least pretend like we are carrying on a conversation then? People will get the wrong impression here”

“And what would that be Shane?” 

“That I’m all looks and no wit”

“Really, that’s your biggest concern right now, people thinking you hold no interest to me?” I asked sparing her a baffled glance before looking over her shoulder to where the woman who’d caught my eye was laughing at something the prick sharing her evening had said. “That’s odd.” 

“What?” Shane mumbled jerking her head back to where my eyes were focused.

“He doesn’t seem very funny.” I mused aloud. “Maybe he has her too intoxicated to notice, her judgement is clearly off.”

“I don’t know, he looks funny enough to me” She offered with a shrug. 

“You think that well groomed, buttoned up, pretensions prick is funnier than me?” I demanded trying to determine if her misguided assessment gave me enough grounds to kick her. “Shane I think its time you reassessed where your allegiance lie!”

“This isn’t a war Tina!”

I looked at her dubiously. Shane has quite clearly never been in love before. “It’s always a war when it comes to love Shane and this one I plan on winning!” I declared. “Mr preppy there doesn’t stand a chance” 

“Tina,”

“Yes?”

“Breathe”

I looked across the table and blushed under the solemn stare of my friend. Taking her instructions on board, I gave this breathing thing a shot and found myself relaxing slightly. I was behaving like a deranged ex-con, I’m surprised she hasn’t thrown the steaming cup of espresso warming her palms in my face yet. “I’m sorry Shane, I don’t know what came over me,”

“It’s probably the alcohol” She smirked. 

“No it isn’t” after sitting for the last of our finals today we decided to hit our favourite spot and offcourse after we stumbled out of there we decided to hit our favourite spot after ‘the’ spot, a diner which just so happened to serve the best cakes and pies in the small college town we’d called home for the last three years. “No it’s not the alcohol” I mumbled. “Its her I think – no I’m sure. She’s beautiful”