Practicing Subtext

The girl shifts restlessly in her seat at the two person table. She glances up from her menu occasionally at her boyfriend’s eyes, which are calmly fixed on his menu. She clears her throat, and he looks up at her.

“What are you going to order?” he asks.

“Hmm... “ She puts her menu down firmly, interlocks her fingers and leans on her elbows towards him. “I can’t decide. The fajitas sound good but they’re a bit pricey. For fajitas I mean.”

“Well, just order what you want.” He goes back to his menu.

She sits up straighter, fidgeting in her seat.

“I mean, maybe I’ll just get a burrito. It’s cheaper.”

He shrugs. “Get the fajitas if that’s what you want.”

“But I always get the burrito. It’s my go-to.”

He looks up over the menu to make eye contact with her. “Well you could mix things up.”

“But do I $10 want the fajitas?” She holds his eye contact.

“I’m paying. It’s fine,” he says offhandedly and goes back to looking at his menu.

“But do I $10 want them?” She stresses the $10 and sits up a bit more to stare at him over his menu.

“Well, I’m getting the mole.” He puts the menu down and holds her stare.

“But do you $12 want the mole?” Her head bobs a bit every stressed syllable.

“Yes. I think I do.” He looks up at the ceiling a moment.

She leans back in her chair a bit. “Well, I guess.”

He shrugs and looks at the table. “It’s just dinner. Get what you want.”

“I think I’ll get the burrito. It’s cheaper.”

“You sounded like you wanted the fajitas though.” He looks her in the eye.

“I did. But I don’t think I $10 want the fajitas. I $7 want the burrito.”

They are both holding each other’s gazes now.

He leans forward. “I told you not-“

“What I’m saying is I carefully considered my options and decided to hold back. Even if it is your money. I don’t want to take a gamble on a food I’m not sure I’ll like.”

She crosses her arms.

“Well as long as that’s what you want. But you may actually really like the fajitas.” He smiles, and his voice gets higher.

“But I’m not sure. And then it will be a waste.” Her voice is flat.

“But then you can just order something else. Or send it back.” His voice is lower again.

“Then that’s more money and effort put into something as simple as dinner.” She leans forward onto the table.

That was as far as I could get before they characters had to acknowledge what they were really talking about: the boyfriend had lost a lot of money betting on horses.