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It was a warm summer evening, and a traveling carnival was in town. Sybbie’s old school friends had invited her to come with them as soon as they heard that she was back from America. She wasn’t entirely sure how they had heard so quickly. She certainly hadn’t made a big deal out of her return. She got on the train in Liverpool, and her father had picked her up from the station. No one else was around. But word got out.
Not that she disliked them, exactly, but after a year of intense college classes followed by a week crossing the Atlantic, she wanted some time to rest. But she needed to be polite, so she came along.
She walked along slowly, increasingly trailing behind her friends, and then stopping to look at some crafts a local woman was selling.
“Well, hello!” a young man called from behind her.
The voice almost sounded familiar, but she was still readjusting to British accents again, and she didn’t want to give extra attention to someone who was just flirting. She had been about to leave and catch up with her friends, but now she was determined to ignore him, and intently looked at one of the wood carvings.
“Sybbie, are you just going to ignore me?”
She turned around.
“Charlie?” she asked in shock. “What are you doing here?”
“You never wrote,” was his reply.
She had hoped he wouldn’t care, that the missed date right before leaving for college in America wouldn’t actually bother him, even if she had felt guilty about it.
“I know,” she said. “I was busy.”
He nodded. It was true, she had been busy, and she was glad she didn’t have to argue about this.
“I don’t mean to sound bitter or anything,” he told her. “But you did stand me up before you left.”
“I know, and I really am sorry about that.”
“Are you here with anyone tonight?” he asked.
“Just some old friends from school. They invited me, but they didn’t even notice that I stopped to look here,” Sybbie admitted.
“Would you like to make up for that date last summer?” he asked, offering his arm.
“I would love that, Charlie.”