pss:right back to square one.

a/n: so this is a different sort of pss. some people send in e-mails, so i'm using one of those this time instead of the photo of the postcard.


prompt: i'm afraid that i'll lose one of the best friends that i've ever had. just because i can't say hi to him outside of school when we see each other in person.
pss:
i'm sitting with my family, eating. the food is absolutely amazing and flavor just rings through my mouth like the most delicious symphony ever. i overhear a conversation from the next table over. a familiar name drifts past my ears. my vision shoots to the door. he walks in and walks by my table, not noticing me.

i sit pretty much spellbound as i try and position my head in such a manner that he won't be able to tell by my profile that i'm sitting at the table next to him. my hand goes up to cover my face, my heart starts working overtime, my palms get sweaty.

"why are you so red?" my sister asks, chuckling.

"i don't know," i reply gruffly, trying not to look at the other table. "i don't know.

the rest of lunch drags on as my mother seems to (deliberately) take forever to eat the rest of her meal. all i know is that i want out of that restaurant, i don't want to spend another agonizing minute here because... because i've dug myself into a hole. i didn't say hi in the first place, so if i said hi now, it'd make it seem like i was debating saying it. but then if i did say hi, i would have to spend the rest of the time in the restaurant sitting there trying to awkwardly deflect from everything. i frown and face the door.

i'll say hi when i go. and by hi, i mean i'll wave.
* * *
soon, the bill is paid.

"are we going now?" i ask, tapping my foot.

my parents nod. i'm up and out of my chair. he's not looking my way, so i just bolt out of the restaurant.

slick.

i really meant to wave to him. i really did.
* * *
"i hope you know that his entire table noticed that both of you were avoiding each other," my dad says to me on the car ride home.

i fidget and stare at my feet.