seventeen

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it had been four days since i had contacted lara in any form. i felt absolutely miserable, dragging myself to class, giving half-hearted brotherly advice to blane and completely throwing myself into studying for my chemistry final.

today was wednesday and it marked the first time that i had missed lara's weekly performance at the cafe. i resorted to binge drinking beer with spencer tonight, cracking open my first one with him at around 6:30.

"have you texted lara, man?" asked spencer. i shook my head and took a sip from my can.

"aight, i talked to diane and she told me that she's totally been moping around and stuff," said spencer.

"great, i feel even more like shit," i replied.

"i'm gonna talk to diane again but apparently she's just been in her room a lot, playing guitar in a sad way."

"great, lara's gonna write an album about me. and-and it's gonna debut at number one on the charts and she's gonna be the next taylor swift and i'm gonna be the shmuck she writes her first two albums about until she gets her heart broken by some cool famous guy," i rambled, finishing my beer.

"you gotta be more optimistic. i think lara still likes you. you-you can't look at someone like that and not have feelings for them anymore, just like that," returned spencer, while i took a deep breath.

"what can i do? what could i possibly do?"

"we'll figure something out, man. you're gonna get the girl."

i texted lara friday morning, asking her if we could talk over dinner, my treat. i went to chemistry and physics without receiving an answer. i had given up hope until i got back to my dorm at 5 and contemplated going out with spencer and sam and checked my phone, taking a break from picking out an outfit and heard a notification chime from my bed.

lara holland:
if ur paying i guess we can
i get to choose the place

me:
i completely understand

lara holland:
i still think ur a jerk
and i can't wait to express that sentiment over my free meal

lara chose jacoby's, a semi expensive italian restaurant so i put on a white dress shirt and charcoal pants with a brown belt and dress shoes. i arrived at her house where she quickly got into my truck. she was wearing a plain white top and navy gingham pants and her hair was down, framing her face perfectly.

"you can listen to whatever you want," i offered. she connected her phone to the speakers and began playing stevie nicks.

we rode in silence and i parked in the sparsely populated parking lot of the restaurant. we got out and walked inside, getting a table almost immediately due to lack of clientele. we sat facing each other and lara ordered four cheese ravioli to start us off.

"look, i wanna i'm sorry for everything that happened saturday night. i shouldn't have said that and i just want you to know that i like you. i want to be with you and only you," i began. lara took a deep breath before she answered.

"god, why would you say that?"

"i'm really sor-"

"i know you're sorry, paul. i know you're genuinely sorry. but i don't know if i can even forgive you," interjected lara. the waiter came back with our drinks: a water for me and a sweet tea for lara and scurried off, as if he knew we were in a deep conversation.

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