Matched | S.R

Luna

After the steamy phone call with Spencer, I expected things to be awkward. They weren't though, at all. Weird.

I asked him to meet. I think I'm ready. A month is long enough, right? A steamy phone call is proof enough that he's into me, right?

I planned to show up twenty minutes early and grab a coffee and a snack. That'd make it look like I'd been there awhile. Throw him off a bit?

After throwing on my outfit and doing my hair and makeup, I can feel myself getting increasingly nervous. It gets to the point where I want to cancel.

At least my outfit looks nice.

My phone buzzes as I'm about to head out the door. I grab for it and see a message from Spencer.

It's a picture of his chest. He's clad in a lavender button down with a black tie. He wears a dark gray cardigan over them and a purple scarf hangs on each side over the entire ensemble.

Spencer: Haven't heard from you yet today. Everything okay? Here's my scarf, just so you know.

I lean against the door frame and give him a call.

He answers on the second ring. "Hey, Luna."

"Hi," I say back. My tone gives away my nerves.

"What's wrong?" Spencer asks me.

I sigh. "I'm just really nervous. Like, sick to my stomach nervous. I'm afraid that you won't like me after you see what I look like," I confess, closing and locking my door. I make my way down the stairs of my apartment complex.

"Luna, I already think that you're the most beautiful girl in the world."

I stop in my tracks on the stairs, a stupid grin taking over my lips. "Pfft. Stop,"

I hear him chuckle. "I'll see you soon?" He asks.

"Yeah, see you soon."

-

I'm sitting in a booth in the food court with an iced coffee and a muffin at twenty minutes to noon, just as I'd planned. I picked up a purple carnation at a flower stand near the food court to give to Spencer. I keep it next to me instead of on the table.

While I wait, I do some sketching on the pages of my notebook and drink down about half of my drink.

At exactly noon, I see a blur of purple across the large room out of the corner of my eye. I take a quick peek, noting the purple scarf. Oh, god. He's cute. He's tall and on the thinner side. His brown hair hangs down to his jaw in waves, he has it tucked behind his ears. Speaking of his jaw, it's strong and defined. He's got a brown leather messenger bag hanging across his chest.

I pull my gaze from him and put my attention back on my notebook.

The next few minutes, he walks around. He doesn't approach anyone, though. I have to sneak peeks every now and then. As he makes his way around the food court, he passes RIGHT BY ME. RIGHT BY ME! If I stuck my foot out from under the table, I could have tripped him.