They sat in the pizza place and discussed everything but what they both needed to talk about. As the awkwardness settled in, made itself comfortable, and helped itself to a piece of pepperoni pizza, they accidentally made eye contact for a second before quickly looking the other way. Finally, she stopped twirling her hair and looked above the the grease stained table. The stereotypically white and red checkered table cloth between them had been present for 10 years worth of dinner conversations. There had been first dates and last dates, horrible proposals, badly timed jokes, sentimental moments over parmesan cheese and an endless run of reenactments of the pasta scene in Lady and the Tramp. But she was sure this was a meal awkward enough to go down in history. After a very long beat of silence the big green eyes that she had been waiting for finally raised themselves to meet hers. When she was convinced that they would not dash off to gaze out the window again, she held their attention and tipped the awkwardness out of its chair and onto the floor so she could confront it.
What erupted from her mouth in a stream so long that it made the nile look like tiny river in Egypt. "I don't regret it and I'm not sorry, and I really care about you. And I don't want to just be your friend, I mean I've loved being your friend but I want more. And I think you do too, and if you still can't admit that then you're just stupid. Wait, I'm sorry, I don't think you're stupid. I mean this is stupid. I just like your face, and I want my face to be near your face. So...yeah." She reflected that Freddie Prince Jr. had a team of writers behind him when he did this shit and she was at a serious disadvantage here.
The pause that followed was not just pregnant; it gave birth, had a brief run in with postpartum depression, experienced empty nest syndrome and happily sobbed as it gave away the bride. And just as she was about to give up hope and admit defeat, she felt two hands shyly but fiercely grab hers under the table where she had been playing a losing game of thumb war with herself. They never let go, even as they stood up to leave. They walked through the door with a perfectly synchronized pace, two girls happy together. And with a swish of perfume, giggles, and swinging hair; they were gone. They left the awkwardness to finish the pizza and pay the tab.
