Every String Attached | GirlxGirl

Chapter Seventeen

It seemed to shock York when Shawn's hand slipped inside of her own when they'd barely even stepped out of the apartment.

She stumbled on the concrete, though caught herself quickly. Shawn noted her flaring cheeks as she kept her eyes on the ground, as if preventing another fall. She knew it was simply because she was too nervous to meet her own eyes.

York was shaking. It wasn't the cold, even though she hadn't bothered to bring a jacket. Upon Shawn's offer of her own, she shook her head, then lowering it down to meet the pavement once again.

The sun was setting above them as they walked the short distance to the restaurant Shawn had never been to before, but had frantically searched and read every review there was on the internet. She'd heard it was good, highlighting the privacy and silence of the large restaurant. That was something that Shawn had taken into great consideration.

She still neglected to reassure York that everything was fine. Her own nerves had slipped away when she arrived at her door. There was no one she felt more comfortable with doing something like this. She wasn't the kind of girl to take people out to romantic dinner dates, but York was different. She made her feel different.

She hoped that, once safely seated and settled inside the restaurant, York's anxiety would ease. But she was wrong, because once they were inside, she only seemed to be more agitated.

The girls were sat in a booth, which was candle lit, and Shawn quickly rejected the violin player that appeared beside the waitress.

To her, it seemed over the top. It wasn't a place that was her first choice, but she hadn't been thinking of herself when choosing it. But even now that they were settled, with their orders being taken without difficulty—Shawn had thought York would write it down on a note, but instead simply pointed to what she wanted on the menu—York didn't seem to be enjoying herself in the slightest.

Her eyes roamed over the entire restaurant in the same way they did while she was at work. It was like she was looking for something, peering through the darkness and studying other couples who were deep in conversation, or silently indulging in their meals.

No matter what Shawn did—tapping her hand against the table, right next to York's, shaking her foot against the ground—she couldn't get the other girl's attention.

It reminded her of the very first day she met York.

In the ten minutes that they were waiting since first giving the waitress their orders, York was steadily sipping on her glass of water, yet barely made a dent in it. As she set it down, still three quarters full, her hand slipped against the sweaty exterior, causing the glass to fall over—completely spilling on both the table cloth and Shawn.

York looked up at Shawn in horror. Shawn had never seen anyone so mortified, and York had never felt it.

Before Shawn could assure her that it was fine—though she wasn't entirely sure how to do so—York bolted from the table, hands pressing against the tablecloth and pushing herself into the aisle.

And to make it inexplicably worse, she tripped on her heels on the way to the bathroom, stumbling in front of confused onlookers and a desperate Shawn. Not missing a beat, though, Shawn was up from the table, following quickly in York's footsteps.

Pushing the bathroom door open, she found the room to be empty, other than the reflection of a certain blonde in the mirror, with her head bowed over the sink, and tears streaming silently down her face.

"Oh no," Shawn murmured to herself.

Shuffling into the bathroom, she realized that this date was taking "a date like she'd never been on" to a whole other level. Never had she found herself comforting her crying date in the vacant bathroom of a way too fancy restaurant.