It was Saturday before I did anything with Cindy Lou again. I was almost hesitant to bring her out; I wasn’t sure I felt up to facing her again. But I knew that if I came up with an excuse now, I’d only do so again in the future, and she’d never get to come out at all.
But it went better this time. The last few days had given us time to get any residual sulkiness out of my system (I would normally say “our systems,” but, well…) and we actually hit it off pretty well. We were able to talk about all the things we had in common—which turned out to be more than I thought.
The next weekend went just as well, and the next—though also just as platonically. But still, I was actually starting to like the situation. I had a girl I could date whenever I wanted, without having to worry about her making demands on my time. And I wouldn’t have to worry about her running around on me if I didn’t ask her out.
Although, admittedly, “ask her out” took on a slightly different meaning in this context.
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