The morning sunlight filtered through Dean's apartment window, waking him earlier than usual. He sat up in bed, stretching as a grin tugged at his lips. Today was the day—his first date with Sara.
He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this excited about something. For years, his days had passed in a monotonous rhythm: wake up, work, eat, sleep. But now, there was something—or rather, someone—to look forward to.
Across the city, Sara hummed to herself as she rifled through her wardrobe, trying to find the perfect outfit. She'd already rejected a pile of dresses, holding each one up and imagining Dean's reaction.
"Why am I so nervous?" she muttered, catching her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, and her heart felt like it was racing a marathon.
It wasn't just a date. It was the start of something new, something that felt special in a way she couldn't fully explain.
After settling on a simple but elegant outfit, she glanced at the clock. "Plenty of time," she assured herself, smiling.
Dean and Sara had agreed to meet at a cozy café downtown. It was one of those places with fairy lights strung across the ceiling and a menu that boasted the best coffee in the city.
Dean planned to arrive early, hoping to secure the perfect table by the window. He had even rehearsed a few conversation starters in his head, determined to keep things light and fun.
Sara, meanwhile, had spent the morning envisioning the date—how they'd talk, laugh, and maybe even share a quiet moment over coffee.
But life, as it often does, had other plans.
Dean left his apartment with time to spare, but as he turned the corner onto Main Street, he was greeted by chaos. A burst water main had flooded the road, causing a traffic jam that stretched for blocks.
"Seriously?" Dean muttered, staring at the mess. He checked his watch and sighed. Walking to the café would take longer, but it seemed to be his only option.
He texted Sara: "Running a bit late. Road's a mess. See you soon!"
At the same time, Sara was making her way to the café when she got Dean's text. She smiled, shaking her head. "At least he let me know," she said to herself.
But her own journey took a turn when her bus came to an abrupt stop. The driver announced that a mechanical issue meant the bus couldn't continue.
Sara groaned, stepping off the bus and onto the crowded sidewalk. She glanced at her phone, debating whether to call a cab, but the app showed a surge in prices due to the traffic.
"Great," she muttered, deciding to walk the remaining distance.
Dean's walk turned into a sprint when he realized just how far he was from the café. The flooded streets had forced him to take multiple detours, and with every turn, the time seemed to slip away.
Sara faced similar frustrations, dodging pedestrians and nearly tripping over a loose brick on the pavement. She checked her phone repeatedly, hoping for a message from Dean, but none came.
By the time Dean reached the café, nearly an hour had passed since their agreed meeting time. His shirt was damp from sweat, and his hair was slightly disheveled.
He scanned the café, but Sara wasn't there.
Sara finally arrived at the café, only to find it nearly empty. She walked inside, her eyes darting around for Dean.
"Looking for someone?" the barista asked.
Sara nodded. "A guy, dark hair, green eyes?"
The barista shook her head. "Sorry, haven't seen anyone like that."
Disappointed, Sara sat at a table, pulling out her phone. She texted Dean: **"I'm here. Where are you?"**
Dean, who was still a few blocks away, stopped in his tracks when he saw her message. He cursed under his breath and quickly replied: "I'm so sorry! Got stuck. Be there in 5!"
When he finally arrived, out of breath and slightly frazzled, Sara looked up from her phone and smiled despite herself.
"You made it," she said, her voice warm but teasing.
"Barely," Dean admitted, sinking into the chair across from her. "This day has been a disaster."
They laughed about their respective misadventures, their initial frustration melting away.
"So," Sara said, taking a sip of her coffee, "maybe this wasn't the perfect start to our date, but it's kind of memorable, don't you think?"
Dean chuckled. "Memorable is one way to put it. Next time, I'll plan better. Promise."
Sara smiled. "Next time, huh?"
Dean met her gaze, his expression earnest. "Yeah. Next time."
As the evening wore on, their conversation flowed just as easily as it had on the train. The café might not have been their original destination, but it didn't matter. What mattered was that they were together.