Post by Shelby on May 21, 2017 21:05:05 GMT
Max was sitting in the bathroom, huddle in a stall that was much too fancy for her taste, that was much more clean than she had expected to be for a bathroom restaurant. It was quite in there, the only sound coming from her nose as she sniffled. No running water, droplets dripping from a leaking faucet. No girl or women in here, checking their make up or spraying on hair spray. She didn't know if she could do this anymore; date Chase. Not because of his personality, not because of his looks. But... But because of his social standing. He was so much higher on the scale than she was; he had money, and a family with money. His dad was a damn CEO of a company that had other, mini branches to it. No, he was more than rich, he was wealthy. Chase could get anything he wanted while Max could barely afford to splurge on outfits for dance recitals and competitions. It was always tough on her. She had to budget, plan her money out right because he parents didn't want to help her, figured that she should be the one taking care of her own future her own self. It sucked. Compared to Chase, she was nothing. He seemed close with his dad, like he could talk to him. She couldn't do that with hers...
She wiped a tear away and pulled her phone out of her purse. They hadn't been there for that long, hadn't been on the date for long, and look at her now. Sitting in the bathroom crying, wallowing over her life compared to Chase's because he was right; it was hard to compare her family to his, from what he had told. But her eyes became fixated on her phone, and the case that was wrapped around it, the one that Chase had gotten her when they had first started the semester and went on their first date. She hadn't thought much of it at the time; she was just happy to know that Chase thought about her that much over the summer. It was a cute little thing that fit her personality perfectly, that encompassed what she liked most on one little thing that helped protect her phone. But how much did it really cost? Knowing, now, that he came from a family of wealth that wasn't afraid to hand him any money when he asked, how much did he spend on this case? A hundred dollars? Maybe more? Was it a custom design that he thought of himself, or what it just a typical one that was seen at the stores? She doubted the latter now. He could get what he wanted, so why get her something typical. It made her feel bad, made her feel as if she made him spend that much money on her when she didn't deserve it. And here she was, only able to give him an old chocolate bar at the beginning of the semester and her company. She thought that that had been enough, but it probably wasn't. He would get bored of her, fast. He'd want someone who was used to the lavish life style, that could ride on yachts and even be able to take him out to a nice dinner and pay for the meal.
This sucked.
She sniffed again and blew her nose on the toilet paper--it was soft, even--and there it down the toilet. She had to get out of here. Call a cab, get a ride back to the dorm, and then never see Chase again. Just let him find someone who would better be able to entertain him, someone that would be better for him in general.
She got up and headed out the bathroom, but instead of walking back to the table, she walked towards the entrance, feeling small and lonely, with the scar on her arm throbbing. She looked back at the dining area, where she barely saw the top of Chase's hair in the distance. But she headed outside, closing the door behind her. She called a cab and then, when they said that it would take thirty minutes to get there, she headed down towards the beach. The sand was warm under her feet when she took her shoes off. The wind was waving more the closer she got to the water. It lapped up at the land, trailing down pieces of sand and broken shells when it pulled itself back in. She stayed away from it, hugging against the natural wall of rocks that separated the road from the beach. There was a rock sitting up right, flat on the top, and Max sat down on it. She pulled out her phone and opened the messages for Chase, looking at them for a second and letting a tear fall from her eyes. It dropped onto the screen. "I'm sorry" she texted him. And then she put her phone away.
She wiped a tear away and pulled her phone out of her purse. They hadn't been there for that long, hadn't been on the date for long, and look at her now. Sitting in the bathroom crying, wallowing over her life compared to Chase's because he was right; it was hard to compare her family to his, from what he had told. But her eyes became fixated on her phone, and the case that was wrapped around it, the one that Chase had gotten her when they had first started the semester and went on their first date. She hadn't thought much of it at the time; she was just happy to know that Chase thought about her that much over the summer. It was a cute little thing that fit her personality perfectly, that encompassed what she liked most on one little thing that helped protect her phone. But how much did it really cost? Knowing, now, that he came from a family of wealth that wasn't afraid to hand him any money when he asked, how much did he spend on this case? A hundred dollars? Maybe more? Was it a custom design that he thought of himself, or what it just a typical one that was seen at the stores? She doubted the latter now. He could get what he wanted, so why get her something typical. It made her feel bad, made her feel as if she made him spend that much money on her when she didn't deserve it. And here she was, only able to give him an old chocolate bar at the beginning of the semester and her company. She thought that that had been enough, but it probably wasn't. He would get bored of her, fast. He'd want someone who was used to the lavish life style, that could ride on yachts and even be able to take him out to a nice dinner and pay for the meal.
This sucked.
She sniffed again and blew her nose on the toilet paper--it was soft, even--and there it down the toilet. She had to get out of here. Call a cab, get a ride back to the dorm, and then never see Chase again. Just let him find someone who would better be able to entertain him, someone that would be better for him in general.
She got up and headed out the bathroom, but instead of walking back to the table, she walked towards the entrance, feeling small and lonely, with the scar on her arm throbbing. She looked back at the dining area, where she barely saw the top of Chase's hair in the distance. But she headed outside, closing the door behind her. She called a cab and then, when they said that it would take thirty minutes to get there, she headed down towards the beach. The sand was warm under her feet when she took her shoes off. The wind was waving more the closer she got to the water. It lapped up at the land, trailing down pieces of sand and broken shells when it pulled itself back in. She stayed away from it, hugging against the natural wall of rocks that separated the road from the beach. There was a rock sitting up right, flat on the top, and Max sat down on it. She pulled out her phone and opened the messages for Chase, looking at them for a second and letting a tear fall from her eyes. It dropped onto the screen. "I'm sorry" she texted him. And then she put her phone away.