I sat in the café, looking at my watch every now and then.
It was raining again.
Clive was half an hour late.
I was stupid, thinking he would come. I had only met him last week, and I was already head over heels in love with him. It was stupid.
He was obviously not going to come.
I kept my head low down, reading my book, looking like I was mint to be on my own.
"Sorry I am late," I heard a voice say. I jumped, and my book went flying under the table. I ducked down to retrieve it. When I looked up again I saw the voice belonged to Clive.
"That's okay," I spluttered, thinking I looked like an idiot.
"Got tied up with work," He smiled apologetically, before ordering a tea.
"What do you work as? You never mentioned it last week,"
Clive stuck his hands in the air.
"You got me! I don't have a job yet, but I am working on what you would call a sort of pet project."
"Tell me about it," I asked, taking a sip of my coke.
"Ah ah ah, I'm not going to spill my secrets," He said, shaking his finger. I was about to protest, when the waitress came with his tea.
"Please," I made my eyes as big as I could. He laughed.
"I only met you last week!"
I slumped down, defeated. He was right of course.
He must have noticed, because he said,
"I will tell you soon. Not today, not next week, but soon. I promise."
I smiled, and sat up.
"Promise?"
He put his hand to his chest and said,
"Cross my heart and hope to fly,"
"Isn't it die?"
"Who wants to die?" He asked, going all serious. I nodded. He had a point.
"Who wants to die?" I said.