Not Worth The Wait

Samantha’s POV:

The next morning, I walked into the changing room, my face already frustrated. Rosy spotted me immediately and raised an eyebrow, setting her phone aside. 

She must have sensed the disaster of last night.

“So,” Rosy prompted, leaning in eagerly, “how was it?”

I crossed my arms, shaking my head in exasperation. 

“How was it? Seriously, Rosy? I wish I’d never listened to you and gone on that ridiculous blind date in the first place.”

Rosy nodded sympathetically. “I take it that things didn’t go as planned?”

“You think?” I said, my face contorted with frustration. “It was worse than I could’ve imagined. 

The guy wouldn’t stop talking about himself! And can you believe it? He still lives with his mother!”

Rosy’s eyes widened as she made a face. “Yikes! What a bummer.”

I threw my hands up in surrender. “Exactly! I’m done with this whole blind-date nonsense.”

It never works out, and honestly, I’m not interested in dating anyone. Can we just delete the app and be done with it?”

But Rosy shook her head, undeterred. “Samantha, you went on one blind date, and you’re already throwing in the towel. What if the next one’s better? You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

I sighed deeply, knowing Rosy wouldn’t let this go easily. She had that determined glint in her eye, the one that usually ended with me reluctantly agreeing to her latest scheme. But this time, I was genuinely done.

“No, Rosy,” I said firmly, shaking my head. 

“I’m done with these stupid dates. What if the next guy turns out to be some jobless, broke guy who thinks I should be the one supporting him? Or worse, one of those guys who believes women should do all the heavy lifting in a relationship? I’m not interested in wasting my time with someone like that.”

Rosy crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at me. “Samantha, you’re judging the entire dating pool by one bad experience. Not every guy is going to be like that!”

I rolled my eyes, exasperated. “One bad experience? Rosy, it feels like every time I give dating a chance, it’s the same story. And I’m not about to sit through another night pretending to care about some guy’s mediocre life story.” 

Rosy let out a small, frustrated sigh. “I just hate to see you giving up. Not every guy is like the ones you’ve met before. You might be surprised.”

“Nah... I’m done, Rosy. Dating isn’t for me.” I said firmly, closing my locker and starting to walk away. But before I got far, her voice stopped me.

“Look, Samantha, I know the first date was a disaster,” she said, her tone softer, “and I get that it made you hesitant to try again. But why don’t you just give it one last chance? You never know it could surprise you.”

I sighed deeply, realizing she wouldn’t drop it until I agreed. Turning back, I saw the pleading look in her eyes, practically daring me to say no.

“Fine,” I muttered, feeling defeated. “I’ll go on another stupid date.” 

Rosy’s face instantly lit up. “You won’t regret it, I promise!”

She immediately took my phone from me, scrolling through the app with renewed excitement.

“Alright, let’s see who’s next… Hmm, this guy looks… alright.” She turned the phone, showing me a profile picture.

The guy wasn’t smiling; his face was set in a serious, almost cold expression, his eyes intense and piercing. 

I frowned, unimpressed. “This one looks like he’ll last all of two seconds. Judging by that face, he’s probably an arrogant prick.”

“Come on, Samantha, don’t judge a book by its cover,” Rosy urged, nudging me. 

“You may never know. He could be perfectly nice.”

I rolled my eyes, not buying it but knowing I’d already agreed. 

“Fine. But if he turns out to be another self-absorbed bore, I’m deleting this app and never looking back.”

Rosy gave me a playful salute. “Deal. But I’m telling you, this one might surprise you.”

“What if the guy is actually arrogant or something? I mean, he looks like it." I thought, staring at the photo Rosy had shown me. 

I wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea of going on a date with some guy who looked like he had an ego bigger than his looks. 

But Rosy kept insisting, convincing me it would be fine. Reluctantly, I agreed.

******

The night of the date, I arrived at the restaurant early, hoping I wouldn’t look too desperate or anxious. 

But after about 30 minutes of sitting there, I started to wonder if I had the wrong place. 

The address matched, though. I checked it again. I decided to sit tight and wait a little longer.

Finally, a tall guy walked in, and my eyes immediately went to him. He made his way over to my table, and as he got closer, I could feel my frustration bubbling up again. 

Forty minutes late? Seriously? I was ready to chew him out, but when he finally reached the table and I looked up at him, I froze. 

All my irritation seemed to vanish, replaced by something else. Those blue eyes damn, they were gorgeous.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, his voice a little rough. “Got held up at work.”

I shook my head, trying to snap myself out of the daze I was suddenly in. 

Was this really the same guy from the picture? 

He looked... different. He looked better, actually. 

I couldn’t help but think, I guess you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

I forced myself to focus, blinking a few times to clear my head. 

I hadn’t expected him to look… Well, this good. 

That was the problem with judging people by their photos; they could never capture the full picture. 

"Hi," 

I managed, forcing myself to sound casual, like I hadn’t been sitting here fuming for forty minutes. 

I tried to land somewhere between interested and annoyed, but the way he dropped into his seat without even a hint of an apology nudged me back toward annoyed.

Without acknowledging me further, he snapped his fingers to signal the waiter, making it clear that he wasn’t here to chat.

“Waiter!" 

I looked at him confused wondering if he was ordering for us without so much as asking.

I didn't say anything and just watched. The waiter walked up to us and the guy spoke with the slightest edge in his voice. 

“I’ll have an espresso, and bring me the best red you have. Make it quick, would you?” 

I raised an eyebrow. “Not even asking what I wanted?” 

I bit my tongue, unsure if I should let him know just how irritated I was. Before I could say a word, he turned to me, his eyes cool and unreadable.

"So," he said, barely meeting my gaze. 

"I’m Julian. Let's skip the small talk. I don't have much time, so let's just get to the point."

I blinked, taken aback. Who did this guy think he was? Not only was he forty minutes late, but now he couldn’t even spare me a moment of politeness? My initial attraction fizzled, replaced with pure annoyance.

“Alright,” I said coolly, matching his tone. “The point is, you’re forty minutes late, and now you want to rush through this? I could’ve left by now.”

He leaned back, giving me a long, bored stare. “Then you could have left and saved us both the trouble. After all, it’s just a date. No need to make it a big deal.”

I scoffed, anger bubbling up inside me. 

"Wow, that’s incredibly rude, even for someone who thinks it’s just a date." I shot back, crossing my arms and glaring at him. "The least you could do is pretend you’re interested, seeing as you were the one who was late.”

Julian raised an eyebrow, clearly unmoved.

“Pretend?” he echoed, giving a slight smirk. “I don’t like pretending, especially when I could be doing far more important things than—” 

He stopped himself, as if realizing that finishing his sentence would make him sound even worse.

"Than what? Sitting here with a person you clearly think isn’t worth your time?” I finished for him, my voice heavy with sarcasm.

For the first time, he looked slightly uncomfortable, but it passed quickly. 

“Look, I’m not here to waste your time. If you’re already bothered, maybe it’s best we just end the evening here.” 

He reached for his wallet as if to pay for a meal that hadn’t even begun.

I shook my head, laughing bitterly. 

“Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t want you to waste any more precious minutes.”

He paused, glancing up at me with a look I couldn’t quite read. Was it regret? Or just mild annoyance? 

But I didn’t care. I grabbed my bag, but before leaving, I turned to look at him one last time.

“I hope we never run into each other again, because, God help me, if I see your sorry face, things are going to get ugly.”

With that, I walked out of the restaurant, leaving the arrogant prick behind.

“This is officially the worst date ever,” I thought as I stormed out.