How Was Your Day? - Chapter 4

August 31 • Saturday

(3:07 pm)

"Waiting isn't nice. You think that putting something off will help you, will make you feel better, even for just a moment, but it doesn't. Confrontation is inevitable- getting over with it is preferable, but sometimes you're stuck waiting anyway.

"Everyone's waiting for something. Some people, they check their watches every minute, waiting for someone to pick them up or dinner to be finished cooking. Some wait for love or for luck. Some people wait for consequences they know are coming. Some even wait- and this is the longest kind of waiting- for someone to return home to them. Someone that they know, deep in their hearts, will never come back. Not really.

"I shouldn't wait. I know it's not good- I know- but I've been this way for so long that maybe, maybe the lack of waiting scares me. Maybe I'm worried about what might happen if I budge from my daily routine, make a friend, learn something new.

"But I have the strangest feeling I haven't got a say in whether I get to put this off or not. There are certain... Factors I can't control. It's time for a confrontation.

"-F-"

Finnley posted a new update to his blog, his stomach knotting with anxiety over actually doing something with someone. Especially because that something was a sport. With a girl who may not entirely be sane.

He pulled on a pair of loose shorts and a t-shirt, not entirely sure what they would be doing, but completely confident that it would be torture. He was thinking about pleading with his mother that it wouldn't be so bad to back out just this once when his laptop let out a soft ding.

:1 New Comment:

"What kind of guy doesn't call a girl within 24 hours when she gives him her number? You introvert. And it's not a confrontation unless you don't show up, in which case I WILL come to your house and drag you out.

"~M"

Shoot. He had forgotten that Mia read his blog. Finnley groaned and slumped over, his head in his hands. What was he thinking, making his private thoughts public for anyone to read? He never should've agreed to that- it hardly helped anyhow.

"You should probably leave now, you don't want to be late to your date!" his mother called happily up the stairs.

Finnley smiled in spite of himself. "It's not a date, Mom," he said with a dramatic sigh. "And besides, it doesn't take all that long to get there. I'll be fine." But she was nothing if not insistent, and so a minute later he found himself being shoved out the front door with a water bottle clutched in his hands. The heat would've killed him had it not been for that.

He sighed again and practically trudged all the way to the school. It had been a rough night- she had come again, as she did every night, and he followed her as far as the forest. She had beckoned him forwards, into the forest, and for the first time all summer, he had hesitated. He thought he heard rustling, and whirled around. Peering into the darkness, Finnley saw nothing, and when he turned back to her again, she was gone. It was a long walk home.

As the field behind the school came into focus, so too did a figure in bright colors. Today it was yellow. Mia waved frantically at him, face covered in a wide grin. As much as Finnley wanted to sulk, he couldn't. Her smile was contagious.

"Fin! So you did come!" she said excitedly. Mia threw her arms around him in an exaggerated hug that he was in no way prepared for.

"Don't touch me," he said, recoiling a bit. Mia just waved her hand.

"Too late now. You're infected by my horrible Mia germs!" she exclaimed, wiggling her fingers in what she obviously thought was an evil way and scrunching up her face. "Seriously, though, I did give you my number for a reason. Hm, you'll just have to text me when you get home to make sure you got off alright."

"Whatever you say," Finnley replied. Half of him wanted to high tale it home to the relative safety of his bedroom, but another part of him was interested in Mia's quirky personality and how this sport could actually be perceived as enjoyable.

"Well, we did come here for a reason," Mia acknowledged. She turned to a large pile of equipment- to Finnley, it looked like devices to torture people.

Mia was certainly not like he anticipated. Though she was definitely more excited about softball than any decent human being should be, she didn't let it all out. She worked with Finnley slowly, endlessly tossing balls at him so he could practice batting, and inevitably chasing them all down so she could do it again. She was encouraging, and her taunts were all meant in fun. Most surprising of all was that Finnley actually found himself improving.

It was quarter to six when they called it quits. The hot afternoon was finally cooling off, and Finnley and Mia lay sprawled on the grass for a moment, wiping sweat from their foreheads.

"Hey, thanks so much for that, Mia," Finnley said honestly, though he avoided looking at her. "I think I improved a lot."

"That's what friends are for!" she cheered. "So, are you ready to do this again Monday afternoon?"

"Monday?" Finnley asked, sitting bolt upright. He now looked at her fully. "What do you mean, Monday?"

"Well, you can't just expect to get better all at once! Besides, I don't think you ever leave your house." This was unfortunately true, and Finnley suppressed a smile as he lay back down. Maybe a friend wasn't such a bad thing. It was the first time in ages he hadn't felt haunted by the events earlier in the year. They were still there- they were always there- but they had a fuzzy feel, like he was viewing them through a screen. He would make sure to text Mia when he got home.