…Or?..

It was a perfectly ordinary February evening, with tiny white ash-flakes falling to the ground. She was running as fast as it was possible on this uneven ice-paved street. Who cares about the high heels, - the most important thing at that moment was not to be later than she already was.
As she ran into the café, panting, her cheeks were burning, eyes glowing brighter than long, thin latte spoons. For about a minute she just stood there, looking around the dimly-lit room. Then she saw him.
He was sitting at a table by the wall, with a mug of latte in front of him.
- By any chance, do you know you’re late?
- Yup, sorry, I’m…
- …56 minutes late.
- … yeah, I’m very…
- Any other guy would’ve left.
- I know, so…
- I’m not used to being kept waiting for 56 minutes.
- Have you counted the seconds, too?
- 56 minutes times 60… that’s 3860 seconds. Which only makes your situation worse.
- I know, I’m really, really sorry. But I’d have said it much earlier, if you hadn’t interrupted me. I’m awfully sorry, - she said, her head lowered, with a sideway look. She noticed there was a potted palm tree in the corner.
- Wow, now you’re talking, - he grinned, ironically, - maybe you should have a seat, ‘cause I’m starting to feel uneasy.
She sat. Silence fell around their table… and it lasted precisely until the moment when a waitress in a crimson top came up. With a sweet smile, she enquired whether Andreas would like anything else. He, in turn, smiled slyly, as always, and ordered them two teas and hot wafers.
Sabrina was still looking sideways, but her face expression now changed from confused to dissatisfied.
- So, - he looked at her, waiting.
- Well, if you’re the most popular guy in our course and everyone’s after you, it doesn’t necessarily mean I ought to fall to my knees when I see you, and give you adoring looks.
- Well, it seems to me, if a girl wants my help with her project work, she’d better be more polite, - she shot an angry look at him, - though I surely wouldn’t expect anything like that from you, - he glanced at Sabrina, skeptically.
- Now what on earth did that mean? – her unwelcoming look seemed to burn through him.
- Nothing. Absolutely nothing, - he replied, then added, quietly, - …porcupine.
She heard it. She could throw a tantrum, or slap his face, or…
Or:
- Let me remind you why I, unlike all your bimbos, can allow myself to behave the way I want to, - Sabrina lightly touched her temple, as if struggling to remember, - I seem to remember that wonderful moment as if it was yesterday, - she tried to provoke him, but he wouldn’t give in, - I went dancing to that little place where one of my pals invited me, and there, in the bright spotlight, right on stage, was the one great and incomparable…
- That’s it! I also recall that I’m here because you mean little thing are blackmailing me!
- I love you too.
- Wow, that’s something new, - he edged closer to her.
- Don’t even DREAM of it!
- I’m not dreaming, - he bent over and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth, - here are our wafers, - Andreas went on flirting with the waitress.
Again, she could throw a tantrum, or slap his face, or… Or just cram a big piece of wafer in her mouth. And take the wrapping out and stick it under his nose instead of a wafer afterwards.
Andreas uttered a heavy sigh, took a pen out of his pocket and started writing. Sabrina went on chewing her wafer.
34 minutes later:
- Hey, listen…
- Yeah? – she was bending over the seventeenth page.
- How about a wafer for me, too? I think I deserve it.
- Help yourself. There’s plenty left, - Sabrina held another piece between her clenched teeth.
- I see that…
He bent over and bit on the other end of the wafer. To say Sabrina was infuriated is to diminish the truth – greatly. She was VERY infuriated! Well this cheek’s not getting any of her wafer! A group of seven-graders went past, and they nearly squealed with delight on seeing such a “romantic scene”. Andreas even managed to smile at them with a corner of his mouth.
In any romantic film, the characters would eat the wafer from both ends, then kiss. But they were sitting in a real café, not in a film set. That’s why, when there was no more than 3 centimetres of the wafer left between them, Sabrina let go and watched Andreas eat it up.
- Great. Couldn’t you have taken one form the plate?
- It’s not as tasty, - he licked his sticky lips, - take another one.
- And you’ll steal half of it again?
- It’s not called stealing; it’s called sharing.
- Listen, you walking talking flirting machine. I’m not one of your babes who look at you with big cartoon hearts in their eyes.
- You know what the most amazing thing is?
- What is it? – Sabrina rolled her eyes.
- I understood it long ago. But…
- Oh really?
- But why do you have to be so stubborn if you like me anyway?
Silently, she looked at him. Andreas moved very close to her, and was waiting for her reaction, grinning. He was so close that…
Sabrina could slap his face, or laugh in his face, or snap her fingers on his nose, or…
Or quickly kiss his lips, turn away, go back to her project, and say:
- Yeah, I like you, so what?
- Nothing. I’m glad I made you own up to it.
She looked at Andreas – thoughtfully, barely containing herself, - then at the plate and back at him.
- Don’t do it, - he took the plate from her hands.
- Don’t do what? – she smiled, for the first time in the whole evening.
- Don’t frown, you’re so much more charming when you’re smiling.
- Thanks for the compliment, - she went back to her work again.
- You can’t put a “thank you” into the pocket, - Andreas took his pen and bent over the sheets too.
- The what do you want, another wafer? – she turned her face to him and smiled politely.
- Nah, I’m not over keen on sweets. But I’ll be more than satisfied with… this.
I could bet 100 euro that you expected a kiss. Did you? Own up to it!
But as it’s already been said, it’s not a romantic movie, so…
- What? Why would you need my scarf? – Sabrina was expecting a kiss, too (so you’re not alone.)
- Purple matches my stage image perfectly. Besides, - he stood up, slipped the money into the bill, and put his jacket on, accompanied by Sabrina’s surprised look, - it means you’ll have to come over again, - he grinned, - this is your favourite scarf, isn’t it?
When Andreas left the café, she was still sitting there, confused.
Billions of different “ors” were whirling inside her head, like the snowflakes outside.
To go or not to go,
To talk or not to talk,
To get angry or not to get angry,
To kiss or not to kiss,
Or…

Or do both. Come to the club, listen to him, but leave without having a talk. Wait until he gets out, kiss him on the corner of his mouth, get angry when he does the same. Then…
Does it matter what happens then? It’s not a romantic movie script, after all!