"The Argument" by Mary Ellen Mooter

    They sat together with their eyes averted, the tenseness palpable.  The girl shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wondering how to break the silence.

    “Listen, I didn’t really mean it,” she started out softly, trying to reconcile.
    “Sure, of course you didn’t, you never do.”  His sarcasm was evident and cut her deeply.
     “Hey, you don’t have to be so mean about it!  I swear I won’t say it again, and I really mean it this time!”  She was almost pleading now, and she felt rather pathetic for it.
    “Every time I bring this up with you and try, and I mean really try, to be serious with you, you always end up deflecting and acting like it doesn’t matter.  But this really means a lot to me.  I need to know your answer before I take the next step in this relationship!”
    “Well, I just don’t think it’s that important really.”  She instantly regretted her words when she saw the fury in his eyes.
    “So basically the stuff that’s incredibly important to me is just nothing to you and you could care less about it.  Am I right?”  His arms were crossed now, hostility emanating from him.  Their food remained untouched from when the waiter had brought it about ten minutes ago.  The waiter had not reappeared, apparently having sensed the storm brewing between the two when he had brought their meals.  An indication of this was the uncertainty with which he had told them to enjoy their dinner.  The girl recalled all this now, looking helplessly over to where he was, hoping he would come and break up this miserable conversation.
    “That’s not true,” she trailed off, casting her eyes downward as she told the little white lie.
    “Oh, I think it is!  And if this is how you really feel about it, then I think we’re done!”  He was standing now, reaching for the coat on the back of his chair.  She followed him to the door, pleading with him to just stay and forget about it all.  He bluntly refused, and opened the door with a soft tinkling of the bell.  A blast of cold air hit her, raising goose bumps all along her bare legs and arms.  She shivered, not just from the cold outside but also from his sudden iciness.
    “Well fine!  Be that way!” she shouted after him, eyes narrowed in dislike.  “What a jerk,” she mumbled, heading back to her seat.  The waiter intercepted her halfway there.
    “Are you okay?”
    “Yeah, I’m fine.  Glad to be rid of him actually.”
    “What was it all about anyway?  I could tell you two were really about to go at it.”
    “Oh, it was really stupid,” she scoffed, “I accidentally called his favorite pastime, video games, a waste of time and said they made people lose brain cells.”  They both laughed, filled with happiness even with the supposed sadness of the break-up.
    “Hey, you want to hang out sometime and talk about how video games are destroying people’s minds?”
    “Sure,” she smiled happily, realizing that even with the end of one relationship, a new friendship was beginning again from the ashes.