Rough Bumps

It was fairly late in the orange shades of dusk by the time we made it back to the cafe I worked at.

I was honestly expecting there would be more to come as soon as we were done scouting for locations, an unexpected-expected surprise she'd swipe down the curtains to reveal, and unwittingly, I'd find myself rowing in a canoe, or snorkeling in the depths of the Atlantic, or whatever the hell her crafty imagination could think of. 

But nothing. There was nothing. Before I knew it, the car was gradually pulling up to a familiar street, and Amanda, no surprise bunny in a hat, no sly tricks hidden up her sleeve, silently leaned over towards me, slipping gently her farewell with a quick tender kiss. 

Not even dinner. 

Not even when I offered, quickly remembering a pair of tickets of my own stashed inside my wallet.