The rose he gave me has wilted, pretty much like this whole night. It was supposed to be our one-month anniversary dinner, but I’m pretty sure that by tomorrow morning it’ll be the night we broke up. Because I’ve been forgotten, and at this rate, he’ll be speaking all night.
The second our professor came into the little pub on campus, and Jason waved his arm like one of those giant blow-up things, our date was pretty much over. Jason, for all his charm and good looks, is a total brown-noser. And, he likes to talk.
Professor Markham likes to talk, too.
I went along with Jason offering the professor a seat at our table, but it wasn’t until Markham ordered dinner that I finally realized he wasn’t going away.
Three hours later, and they’re still discussing the modes of time travel. I pull off a flower petal. I could add multi-dimensions to their list and use the unfurled petals as an object lesson, but why bother? Instead, I continue to pull out each petal, tuning out the conversation and imagining that each petal represents a new and undiscovered dimension.
The rose he gave me sits beside my plate, fresh and vibrant.
“Oh, look. There’s Professor Markham.” Jason moves to raise his hand, but I stop him.
“Let’s keep tonight for ourselves, okay?”
Jason’s eyes shine in the pub’s dim light. His thumb strokes the rose petals as leans forward. “Just for us,” he says, before kissing me.