The next week was spent sulking in your room and checking your phone from any word from Karkat- which of course there wasn't any. Bro popped in a few times to see if you weren't dead, but you would barely give an audible response and go back to playing on your phone. After beating your high score on Doge2048 you basically had nothing else to do. You finally settled on staring at the ceiling and drumming your fingers on your legs. After a quick glance at your phone you chuckled at the irony. Finally you realized there was absolutely no respect for yourself left and you dialed his number again-your thumb hovered over the Call button. Shakily typing in the numbers, you gave an irritated sigh. It rang once, twice, and one more time. Then to voicemail. So you dialed again, but this time it only rang twice. The little fucker was ignoring you! You dialed his number for the third time and he answered with an angry, yet guilty sounding, "What, Strider?"

"You're fucking ignoring me is what," you replied equally angry.

"Yeah and it took you this long to fucking call me you nookmunching shit-for-brains."

"Oh i'm sorry. I'm not the one who just sorta left without a god damned excuse. Like really Karkat? I just wanted you to hang out but you had to make it all awkward and leave!"

"I find it extremely hard to believe that hanging out was all you had in mind!"

"Actually it fucking was!" He paused and you could faintly hear the jagged breathing on the other line.

"That's all?" he asked small and disappointed.

"That's all," I lied through my undeserving teeth as I eased up on the decibels.

"Ok. Well I guess I should go and stuff."

"Yeah." Goddammit.

"Bye." The call cut before you could come up with another bullshit response. For some reason this was supposed to clear things up. He was supposed to run to your house and you would pick him up and twirl him around and kiss him in the rain or some shit. You don't even know anymore. All it did was make things worse for the both of you. Hey on the bright side you aren't dead right?

In the midst of your cliched (and unironic) moping around, it mother. fucking. started. to rain. God damn why not put on some teenage love songs and eat chocolate while watching The Notebook? Actually that's a good idea. Picking up the phone for the second time today you called Karkat for the fourth.

"Yeah?" he sounded more confused than anything.

"Yo do you wanna go see a movie or something?" You totally regained your cool and you were smooth as a babies ass.

"Um...sure?"

"Cool. Pick you up at 7. Later."

"Wait, Stri-" You hung up and wondered if that was too much of a dick move. I mean you're trying to be a douche but not too douchey you know?

And again here we are. Sitting on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the usual. This is getting sad. You literally have nothing better to do while waiting for 7:30. You do actually want to be on time, but being on time is for lame -ass losers. Like Egbert. But whatever. 7:15 was close enough and you put on a pair of jeans and slipped on your signature shades and headed out for what will probably be the most embarassing night of your life.