Dawn to Dark

by Halston James

  “Not interested? In you?”

  He barely got the words out. Cody had always assumed I was a player, stringing girls along left and right. While I didn’t have a hard time catching the attention of the women, very rarely had I invited one home. My own standards were high, and I hadn’t wanted a gold-digger, something the University of California seemed to breed.

  Instead of answering, he got up and made to leave. He shook his head at me while continuing to laugh before closing the door behind him.

  My question had been serious. We had fun together one night. Only one night. We connected, but what if I had imagined it all? What if she didn’t feel the same and that’s why she hadn’t contacted me?

  Only one way to find out.

  Grabbing my phone off the desk, I moved to lie down in the spot Cody had vacated.

  I typed out a message before deleting it, only to rewrite the exact same thing. An hour passed while I agonized over what to say.

  Did I start off casual? Or jump right in with my interest?

  Would she respond immediately? Or blow me off?

  The doubts swirled in my head as I tried to come up with the perfect text.

  Another hour passed while I debated a text or phone call.

  Wouldn’t it be more personable if I called? But some people hated talking on the phone, unsure what to say and developing anxiety during the silence.

  Frustrated with my own indecisiveness, I went simple. It wasn’t the greatest, or cleverest, but I thought it would open the channels of communication between us. I knew once I got past this minor speed bump everything would be downhill from here.

  Whether it was for the challenge, or for my own personal gain, I wanted to talk to Arabella again. She seemed shy, skittish even, and it was something I wanted to know more about. Becoming a part of her life was inevitable for me no matter what the circumstances were.

  6

  Arabella

  College courses were far different from my online homeschooling. I’d had a few panic attacks and terror filled moments in the classrooms due to the overwhelming number of students. Luckily, I was able to work myself down.

  I’d been researching ways to calm myself using breathing and counting techniques. I was hoping once I got further in my education these would be things that were taught, but for now I had to find them on the internet.

  Overall, I’d been enjoying myself. It had been a fun experience so far, and I’d been branching out, trying to make more friends. Royce had been plaguing my thoughts, and I’d been tempted to text him. Destiney shot that down though.

  She saw me pacing my side of the room one night while I had my phone in hand. When she asked what I was doing, I spilled everything. She listened to me ramble on about my first crush and how I wanted to talk to him again. See his face. Taking pity on me, she sat me down and explained how the “dating-game” worked.

  First rule, the girl was never the one to text first. You were to always wait for the boy because you didn’t want to appear desperate. Second, once the boy finally texted, you didn’t answer right away. A total of at least ten minutes needed to pass before responding. Again, this was to allow the girl to not seem desperate or that she was waiting around for him to contact her.

  There were more rules to the process, but she said I needed to get through these first.

  I didn’t take much stock into the rules at first, considering what I knew of her love life. Destiney didn’t wait longer than a few minutes after meeting a guy before they were off in a closed room. I knew it was her way of protecting me, but it seemed a bit hypocritical of her. However, after seeing a magazine cover with the headline, The do’s and don’ts of dating, I took it a little more seriously. The magazine listed the same rules, along with the ones Destiney hadn’t bestowed upon me yet. I read over them at least five times.

  So when my phone buzzed, indicating a new message, I didn’t automatically reach for it, even though I had no idea who it could be. Oh, I hoped, but I wasn’t sure. Instead, I walked to our mini-fridge, pulled out a bottle of water, and walked back to sit at my computer desk. Letting a sufficient amount of time pass, I looked at the screen, saw Royce’s name, and had a minor freak out.

  I had no idea what the message contained, but I feared I wouldn’t be prepared for whatever it said. I wished Dee was there to help me navigate the conversation, but I realized I needed to be able to do this on my own. Otherwise, I would become dependent on her and never have a discussion with Royce again. Knowing I did well enough on my own the first time, this should have been just as simple.

  With my phone in hand, I lay back on my bed and opened the message. It simply read “Hey.”

  Deciding to respond in kind with a simple “Hi,” I thought it seemed too distant and added a waving hand emoji. Though I questioned my choice as soon as I hit send.

  Was that too lame? Would the greeting have been sufficient?

  It seemed he just needed to know I would respond because the texts become quicker, longer, and asking more about me.

  Royce: What are you doing?

  Royce: Sorry I didn’t contact you sooner. I’ve been crazy busy with school and soccer.

  Arabella: Just studying.

  Arabella: It’s been chaotic around here as well, so no worries.

  Arabella: You play soccer? How did that not come up before?

  Royce: Yes, I’m a striker.

  Arabella: * confused face *

  Arabella: … I have no idea what that is.

  He went into a long explanation and why the position was important to the team. It still went over my head. When I told him as much, he simply stated, “Why don’t you just come to a game and see if that helps you understand better.”

  Contemplating the meaning behind his words, I was slow to respond. Apparently, I took too long as text bubbles popped up, explaining away his over eagerness.

  Royce: You don’t have to.

  Royce: I understand your hesitancy.

  Royce: Maybe we could do something together instead.

  I hadn’t even thought about being in the stands alone, but obviously Royce assumed that was why I hadn’t answered. It was now but not originally. Him asking me to do something with him had solved my dilemma, though.

  If there was something between us, a chemistry that we should have explored, that’s what I had been questioning. His acceptance of my hesitancy allowed me to see that he wanted more from me. I hoped at least.

  Arabella: Actually, why don’t we do both?

  And with that, we made plans to go out Friday night and for me to watch him play on Saturday.

  We continued to chat throughout the night into early morning. Learning we had several things in common kept the conversation going and no hesitancy on either of our parts. It was thrilling to find someone I connected with so easily—of the opposite sex as well.

  Growing up with only females doling out my punishments, I thought I earned a rougher opinion of them than their male counterpart. Males had never injured me so badly that I could hardly walk. It was one of the reasons I had a hard time making friends, Destiney being the exception. Though when I thought about it, her friendship was forced upon me due to our living arrangements, otherwise she never would have been on my radar to approach.

  When my eyes were barely able to stay open and focused on my phone, I wished Royce a good night and a promise to talk to him tomorrow. I knew he had an early morning coming, as well as a long day with classes, that I couldn’t deny him sleep.

  7

  Arabella

  I was a nervous wreck. My nerves were threatening to send the little food I had eaten back up.

  All week Royce and I had been messaging back and forth, some nights also talking on the phone. We had settled into a routine and I was loving it, giddy with happiness every time I saw his name pop up on my screen.

  I never thought I could feel this way, or even have a chance to, but here I was. One of the most popular guys on campus was talking to me. It
felt unreal.

  That was why I was having a meltdown. Talking via phone was one thing, but in person would be a completely different scenario. What if we ran out of topics to discuss? My mind drew a blank on what we could talk about over dinner. We’d been over so much already, minus personal subjects, and I wasn’t ready to delve into that yet.

  While I knew certain aspects of Royce, I didn’t know everything. I wasn’t ready for him to judge me because of my past. When I knew he was here to stay, or that he trusted me with his own past, then I would reveal my own. Until then, it was staying locked up.

  I had gotten a job a couple weeks ago working at a local youth center. The place boasted a large gymnasium for kids to come to with no hidden agendas. The people wanted to help those less fortunate, something I wish I had known about as a child.

  It wasn’t anything fancy, but it allowed me to help kids and it paid me enough to cover expenses that my scholarship didn’t. I got my first paycheck that morning and used it to splurge on a few outfits in case this date thing became something regular. I wanted something that was uniquely me.

  Locating a second-hand store was surprisingly easy and this one housed more expensive tastes at an extremely low cost. A few dresses caught my eye that I thought Royce would appreciate, but eventually I made the decision to get them for myself. They were lovely and something I could see myself wearing.

  The outfit I picked was simple: casual but still appealing. At least, that’s what the saleswoman said when I stepped out from the dressing room. The pants were a cotton blend made to appear like slacks, though they only reached to the top of my ankles. My shirt was an off-white number with one long sleeve on the right and a bare left shoulder. It was daring but demure. I pulled my hair up into a messy top knot and threw on a pair of low-slung heels in black.

  Twisting and turning in front of the mirror, I admired myself before being interrupted by the ringtone I’d set for Royce. It was a silly thing to do, but I wanted to know when it was him. Finding the perfect song was difficult, but I thought I had finally figured out one that suited him. “Seven Nation Army” by The White Stripes. When I did a Google search, it was interesting to learn how this particular song had become a soccer chant. It was fitting.

  Taking a deep breath, I answered the phone with a calmness I certainly didn’t feel.

  “Hey.” My voice came out breathless, so I cleared my throat before trying again. “Are you here?”

  His chuckle eased some of the butterflies swarming in my stomach. There was just something about his voice that was like a balm on a burn. Whenever I heard it, I wanted to fall into its richness.

  “Yeah, little one, I’m outside.”

  The nickname was the kicker. My knees went weak, and I was putty in his hands, willing to do anything he asked. Which was concerning, until he said it again and I forgot all about the why.

  “Come on down. I’m sitting on the hood of my ride.”

  “All right, be down in a jiffy.”

  As soon as I hung up, I questioned my sanity. Jiffy? Who says that?

  Shaking myself out, I picked up my small clutch and rushed out the door, barely remembering to lock up behind me.

  Royce was propped up against a car, I had no idea what kind it was. All I knew was that it was black and impressive, if the looks it got from passing males were any clue. I took in his sheer size and how he was able to find clothes that fit him so perfectly. Each muscle was on display without looking like he squeezed into clothing two sizes too small.

  My face heated when I heard him clear his throat and gave me smirk, letting me know he had caught me scoping him out. Not wanting to suffer any comments he might have made, I gave into my questions.

  “So, where are we going?”

  “I’ve got a couple of options, and they’ll depend on your preference.”

  Guiding me to the passenger side, Royce opened the door and waited as I settled before closing it and running around to the driver’s side. He reversed out of the parking lot and headed onto the main road before picking up the line of conversation again.

  “I’m going to give you a set of questions, each with two choices, and you’ll pick the one that sounds more appealing. Easy enough?”

  “Um… I guess so.”

  I was worried how my answers would influence the night, but I was willing to go along. It seemed like a fun way to pick our evening.

  “Domestic or Foreign?”

  “Foreign.”

  “Inside or Outside?”

  “Inside.”

  “Alone or Crowd?”

  “Alone.”

  “Awesome. I know just what to do.”

  Waiting for him to reveal the grand plans, I sat quietly while looking at him from the corner of my eye. After several minutes passed, it became clear he wouldn’t be telling me beforehand what we would be doing.

  Should be interesting.

  8

  Arabella

  The moment his car stopped, I stepped out and gawked in amazement. Royce had brought me to one of the fanciest Korean Grill restaurants in the area. It was a place I’d passed several times on my way to work and had been dying to try. However, when I looked their menu up online, it became clear it would never be a place I could afford. Not on my meager budget.

  I turned to Royce with a huge smile on my face and began jumping in place with impatience. Seeing my excitement, his smile grew as well, and he chuckled a bit before walking over to escort me into the establishment.

  Once inside, we approached the hostess stand and were led to a table for two in the back.

  The table was unlike anything I’d ever seen. In the center was a medium sized burner that allowed you to cook your meats or veggies. Surrounding the burner, several selections of sauces were available, along with an assortment of sides.

  Stating that our waitress would be with us shortly, the hostess left to attend her duties in the front. A menu lay flat on the corner of the table. There were too many choices for me to decide, especially when I wasn’t sure what would be the best to try. When the waitress arrived, she quickly took our orders before disappearing to take care of her other customers.

  Royce and I sat in silence for a moment, too nervous to start a conversation. Finally, my curiosity over the food got the better of me.

  “Have you ever had this stuff before? What do you recommend?”

  He smiled at me gratefully and began explaining his likes and dislikes in the Asian food market.

  “Rice can be prepared so many different ways. It’s fascinating exploring the different cultures and tasting the way their food is an art form. I don’t think I really have a favorite when it comes between Japanese, Chinese, or Korean, though Chinese is easiest to find worldwide. At least in my personal opinion.”

  “The closest I’ve come to any of this is packaged Ramen noodles. I’m addicted to those things, plus they are super cheap.”

  The words were out of my mouth before I could censor them. I didn’t want him to know of my financial situation, or even more, my home life. Royce didn’t seem to think anything of my statement and started talking again.

  “I can understand that. I order out a lot for Chinese. Fried rice and General Tso’s chicken are my go-to favorites.”

  Motioning to the foods before us, I asked, “What do you like out of these?”

  “Of course, you have to try the kimchi. You can’t come to a place like this and not sample it. I’m not a fan of these particular noodles, though they do have one that I like. The rice is pretty good, too.”

  Picking up the chopsticks, I tried to arrange my fingers in just the right way to get them to cooperate. I wasn’t sure of the proper way to hold them and my cheeks began to heat in embarrassment. Knowing it wasn’t something to fret over, I tried to calm my breathing and take in deep breaths.

  Royce, seeing my struggle, explained how he held his, demonstrating with ease how he could eat rice with the chopsticks. After several failed attempts, he laughed my attem
pts off and asked our waitress for a pair of forks to use.

  I didn’t want to admit it, but I was glad he was using a fork as well. Looking around the establishment, several of the customers were using the American utensil to eat. It helped to clear the anxiety I could feel bubbling to the surface over something as simple as using a utensil.

  In no time at all, the waitress returned with our assortment of meats and placed them strategically around the table. We had chosen chicken, pork, beef, and another chicken, each with their own unique seasonings. I was excited to test them, bouncing slightly in my seat while watching her arrange them.

  When I heard Royce’s chuckle, I looked up to see a brilliant smile and a look of contentment. The look had me glancing away briefly before shyly peeking at him from the corner of my eye. Everything about him made me deliriously happy. The feeling blossoming within my soul couldn’t be explained. I didn’t have the words to express how he seemed to lift my spirits with a single look, smile, or by simply being in his presence. My reaction scared me a bit, knowing I could easily get addicted to him.

  Royce began placing the meats on the burner to cook them. The smells wafting through the air caused my stomach to grumble in impatience. It didn’t take long for the meat to be done and for us to dig in. Royce served me pieces of our samples, letting me taste them before digging in himself.

  Flavors exploded in my mouth. I barely chewed before placing another into my gaping mouth. Everything was absolutely amazing and my moans of appreciation didn’t go unnoticed by Royce. He seemed to gawk at me in astonishment, unsure how to react to my noisy foodgasms. And that’s exactly what they were.