Sarah Whitmore lay flat on her bed, staring at the ceiling as though the plain white paint held the answer to one impossibly difficult question. What was she supposed to wear?
The wardrobe stood open a few feet away, clothes hanging neatly inside, untouched. A pale cream blouse rested across the chair by her desk, a navy cardigan lay folded beside it, and a simple white dress remained draped over the edge of the bed where she had placed it forty-three minutes ago. She still hadn’t worn any of them.
Her fingers idly toyed with the sleeve of the blouse before she sighed and let it slip from her hands.
"Too much."
Her eyes wandered toward the white dress.
"Maybe that one."
"No."
She imagined Jason opening his apartment door, and would he think she was trying too hard? Her cheeks warmed almost immediately.
"No, no, why would I even care what he thinks?"
Silence answered her, and then she muttered her own reply.
"Because you obviously do."
Sarah buried her face into the pillow with a muffled groan.
"This is so embarrassing."
She rolled onto her back again, covering her face with both hands, her voice coming out much smaller that time.
"It’s literally just helping him repair his phone. Right?"
The question lingered in the room as her lips slowly curved upward all on their own.
"It kind of feels like a date though."
The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
"No."
"Maybe."
"No."
"Maybe a little."
She let out another defeated sigh.
"I’m hopeless."
Her gaze drifted toward the digital clock, and it read 5:08 PM. She blinked. Only eight minutes had passed? It felt like she’d lived through an entire emotional breakdown already. She sat up, picked up the cream blouse, held it against herself in front of the mirror, then quietly put it back exactly where it had been.
"No."
The cardigan followed.
"Too mature."
The white dress.
"Too obvious."
She stared at the wardrobe, and the wardrobe stared back, neither side willing to compromise. Her shoulders slumped.
"Jason probably isn’t even thinking about any of this."
A tiny smile escaped her.
"He’ll probably just show up in a hoodie."
For some reason, that thought made her smile even wider. The clock blinked again, now reading 5:21 PM, and Sarah’s eyes widened.
"Already?"
She frowned.
"How is time moving so fast when I’m doing absolutely nothing?"
She walked one lap around her room, stopped, turned around, walked another, sat down, and immediately stood back up again, adjusting a strand of hair that didn’t need adjusting. She looked in the mirror.
"Hi, Jason."
She cringed.
"No."
"Hey, Jason."
She winced harder.
"That sounded weird."
She cleared her throat.
"Thanks for coming."
And of course he was coming, she’d invited him. Sarah covered her face again.
"Oh my God."
The room suddenly felt far too quiet, so she reached for her pillow, hugged it tightly against her chest, and rocked back and forth once before catching herself.
"I’m nineteen."
Another glance at the clock showed 5:46 PM, and her heartbeat skipped.
"Wait."
She looked again.
"Wait."
Her eyes flew open.
"WHAT?"
She scrambled off the bed so quickly that the pillow tumbled onto the floor.
"No, no, no. I wasted half an hour thinking!"
She darted to the wardrobe, grabbed the first outfit that looked remotely presentable, then froze halfway through changing.
"Does this look nice?"
She looked into the mirror.
"Actually, don’t answer that."
Few frantic minutes later, she stepped back to inspect herself. A light pastel sweater, a dark pleated skirt that reached comfortably above her knees, and simple white sneakers, nothing extravagant, nothing flashy, just her. She brushed a few loose strands of hair behind her ear before giving herself a tiny nod.
"Good enough."
Another look at the clock read 5:57 PM, and Sarah laughed once, softly. Fifty-seven minutes, she had spent Fifteen-seven whole minutes overthinking, only to wear the first outfit she touched.
"I deserve this."
She grabbed her small shoulder bag, already halfway toward the door when something pulled her attention toward the window, not intentional, just habit.
The convenience store sat directly across from her apartment building, and her eyes wandered toward it and stopped. Jason was already there, standing quietly beneath the streetlight, one hand resting inside the pocket of his hoodie while the other held what looked like his cracked phone.
He wasn’t pacing, and he wasn’t checking the time every few seconds; he simply stood there, waiting, for her. Sarah’s breath caught.
"He came early."
The words slipped from her lips before she realized she’d spoken, and a warmth spread through her chest so suddenly that she had to press a hand against it.
The nervousness she’d been wrestling for nearly an hour didn’t disappear, and if anything, it doubled, but somehow it felt lighter now. A smile bloomed across her face, small at first, then impossibly bright.
"Okay."
She took one deep breath.
"You can do this."
She hurried toward the door, and three steps later she froze.
"Bag."
She turned back, snatched it off the bed, nearly forgot to lock the apartment, corrected herself at the last second, then practically skipped down the staircase, each step echoing a little louder than the last. She tried slowing down. It lasted exactly two seconds, and by the time she reached the ground floor, she was already smiling again.
Outside, the evening breeze greeted her gently, carrying away the warmth gathered in her cheeks. Jason noticed the movement almost immediately and turned, and for a brief moment both of them simply looked at each other. Jason’s eyes widened ever so slightly; the casual clothes suited her far better than the convenience store uniform ever had. She looked beautiful.
Sarah instinctively tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"You’ve been waiting long?"
Jason shook his head with an awkward smile.
"Not really."
His gaze lingered for a fraction longer before he scratched the back of his neck.
"You look nice."
The compliment arrived so unexpectedly that Sarah’s heartbeat stumbled, and a smile escaped before she could stop it.
"So do you."
Silence settled between them, comfortable, awkward, and strangely warm. Then, almost at the same time, they both looked away, and laughed.