𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 | 𝐦. 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐨𝐧

six.

michael kept his eyes on the ground, looking at the back of your shoes as he followed you to make sure he didn’t lose you. when you finally got to the parlor, michael opened the door for you. as you stepped inside michael said, “losers first.” you shook your head as you stepped up to the counter and looked up at the menu. michael stood close behind you, almost breathing down your neck. you ignored him and ordered a fudge sundae for yourself before tilting your head back to look up at michael. “order whatever you’d like. i have plenty of money,” you said before stepping out of his way so he could order.

he fidgeted with the belt loops on his pants and looked up at the menu, taking a moment longer to decide. william never gave michael the chance to order for himself or let him pick what he actually wanted. he was almost overwhelmed. he decided on something simple and cheap since he didn’t want to blow through all your cash. not that anything on the menu was even that expensive anyways. he ordered a scoop of chocolate ice cream in a waffle cone, his voice hardly loud enough for the worker to hear. 

you stepped up after michael ordered and gave the man behind the counter your cash. “keep the change,” you said and smiled. the worker quickly thanked you before turning away and starting on yours and michael’s order. “do you wanna sit at a booth or a table or the counter?” you asked and looked around. there weren't many tables open and there was only one booth left. you were fine with whatever so you just left it up to michael. 

“booth,” he said flatly before looking back to the man behind the counter to see he was done with your ice cream. he grabbed your sundae and handed it to you before grabbing his cone and leading the way to the only open booth in the corner of the parlor. you sat down, scooting down to the middle of the seat and were rather surprised as michael sat down next to you. 

“what are you doing?” you asked, chuckling softly as you leaned over the table. you were no professional at the culture of sitting in booths but you had seen enough movies to know only couples sat on the same side of the booth.

“i’m sitting down?” he said, the confusion clear in his tone as his statement came off as a question. it was clear to him there was some sort of problem but he wasn’t quite sure what it was. 

“well if you sit next to me like that people are gonna think we’re on an actual date or something,” you said and laughed softly. you stirred around your sundae with your spoon, mixing the fudge in with the ice cream. 

“we’re on a date? why didn’t you tell me that,” he said, his tone changing and sounding a bit panicked. he wished he would have at least dressed better if this was a date. he was just wearing a dark sweater and jeans. he was not dressed for the occasion. he was almost embarrassed.

“no, michael, this isn’t a date. which is why you need to sit across from me instead of next to me. dummy,” you said as you motioned to the other side of the table and waited for him to move.

it took a moment to compute in his head before he mumbled a soft ‘oh’ and moved across the booth in shame. he wouldn’t look you directly in the eye and refused to lift his head but you could see from a mile away that his face was bright red. you shook your head a bit and dug into your sundae, scooping ice cream into your mouth.

michael was never really a charmer or player of any sort and this situation was proof of that. he was awkward and easy to fluster. he was always making mistakes and slipping up around the people he liked. he was really just a dork. for all his cockiness, he didn’t know how to flirt. he had been single all his life and never knew of anyone that was into him. that much was obvious. you thought it was charming in its own way. he was cute.

you kicked your feet under the table, eating your ice cream and humming along to the pop song playing on the radio. you looked around the parlor and couldn't help but notice a few people looking at you and michael. before you could say anything to michael about leaving or maybe sitting at the tables outside to eat your ice cream, the bell on the door rang and disrupted your thoughts. you looked over your shoulder to see the group of boys from school walking in like they owned the place.