Dawn to Dark

by Halston James

  I blanche. “Doing what?”

  She pauses and gives me a concerned look before adding, “Trying to move on.”

  Gross. “Are they together or something?”

  She pumps her shoulders and switches the subject for a second. “Did you walk?”

  “I always walk the four blocks over,” I answer while trying to squelch the whirlwind of emotions going on inside my head. My dad and Vanessa. Is that why he didn’t want me around here?

  “Need a ride?”

  I nod, but I don’t believe my father would date someone so different than my mom, and there’s one big flaw with Freya’s theory. “My dad’s not rich.”

  “He’s richer than she is. She lives over at Trailway Mountains.”

  My heart stops for a moment. The home of my mother’s killer. “That’s like forty-five minutes away, without traffic.”

  “Exactly. So, why would she come to work here?”

  That place has a nasty reputation. “I don’t blame her for wanting some distance from there. Plus, she probably makes more money on tips here.” We live in a wealthier neighborhood, and even the kids tip well.

  “Yeah, the tips are good, but I bet they were better at the Grotto.”

  “Oh…The strip club? I didn’t know she worked there. Did she tell you that?”

  “Not really. I overheard her talking to some of the kitchen staff, bragging that she made over three thousand a week in tips.”

  “Then why didn’t she stay there? Did she feel weird about working there and want to switch to something more…” What’s the right word here? “… reputable?”

  She scoffs. “I don’t think any strip club holds a good reputation.”

  I roll my neck and sigh. “I mean, somewhere she wasn’t ashamed to put on her resume.” That sounds horrible. “I mean… I’m not saying that’s bad or anything.”

  “I know,” Freya giggles and places her hand on my shoulder. “Places like that usually have an age range. Once younger girls take her spot and start reeling in more money, they get prime time. Older dancers, like Vanessa, are stuck with the shitty hours and the shitty pay.” She glances back at the diner, which makes me look too. “I forgot my apron, and I need to throw it in the wash.”

  She jolts for the door, and I decide to forget about Vanessa and check on Derrick through the window. I lean against the car and admire how comfortable he is with being in public. Not once does he glance around to see if anyone’s watching or if there are people around him. It’s like he exists independent of everyone else, and I kind of love that.

  “You know, he’d probably be cool with you going up to him and saying hi.”

  I swivel around to face a camera. “Oh, shit.” I turn my face away before he steps closer.

  Max chuckles. “Not usually the reaction I get.”

  “Please don’t put me on your channel,” I plead, without looking back at him.

  “Camera shy?” he asks with the light still on me.

  “Something like that.” I wait a moment before I say, “I don’t want to be filmed, Max.”

  The light switches off. “You know my name?”

  “Um,” I stammer as I hesitantly turn to face him. We’re illuminated by the bright lights of the diner, so I’m not sure if he stopped filming or just turned off the light. I’m happy to find that his camera is facing the floor.

  “So, you’re a subscriber?”

  “Kind of. My cousin is.”

  “Your cousin?” He looks around and realizes the car I’m standing by is pretty unique. It has custom dents and scratches all over it. “Freya’s your cousin?” he asks, stepping closer. “You don’t go to TM?”

  “I don’t know what TM is, so I guess not.”

  “You know, I never knew Freya had a cousin as cute as you.”

  “Did you know Freya had cousins?”

  “No,” he says, scratching his head. “To be honest, I don’t talk to Freya very much.”

  I smile half-heartedly. “You should. She’s pretty awesome.”

  “What about you?” he asks. “Are you pretty awesome or just pretty?”

  I know it’s just a line, but it’s the first line I’ve ever gotten. I blush and glance away. “I’m just me,” I answer before too much time passes.

  “Well, just you, is very pretty.”

  I clear my throat as the heat on my cheeks mimics the color of my hair. “Thanks.” I glance at him before flicking my eyes over to the entrance door. Where the hell is Freya?

  He follows my gaze. “Are you waiting for someone?”

  I shake my head and then change it to a nod. “Yeah, Freya.”

  “For a second, I thought you were going to say you were waiting for Prince. You know it’s his birthday, right?”

  “Oh, it is?”

  “Yeah, we announced it in our last video and asked what we should get him for his birthday.”

  “Oh, I haven’t watched that yet.” That’s the one I was watching before they came in and interrupted. “What did you decide to get him?”

  Max smirks. “Can’t tell you yet. You’ll just have to watch our next one.”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “I won’t miss it.”

  He chuckles. “Well, you missed this one.”

  “I was watching it when you came in.”

  “That’s a good excuse.” He shakes his hand and brings his camera up, causing me to hide my face again. “I won’t put it up on the channel. Can you wish him a happy birthday for me?”

  I glance down at my clothes. “Maybe when I am dressed nicer and actually have some makeup on.” I catch a glimpse of Freya’s hair in the booth we were sitting at. She’ll be here soon.

  “How about I don’t show your face?”

  “You mean like blur me out?” I ask, not liking that idea either.

  “No, I can point the camera down and just record your voice.”

  “My voice?” He points the camera to the floor and hits a button without me agreeing to it yet.

  “Not many girls around here sound like you. Where’s your accent from.”

  “Oh, um.” I sigh, but it turns into a laugh. “Really? I didn’t even realize I had one.”

  “Well, I’m going to ask the guys and see if they agree with me. What did you say it was?”

  “I grew up speaking French and Spanish. I guess it’s a mixture of the two. European-ish, but I was born here.”

  “You going to wish Derrick a happy birthday?”

  “Sure,” I say nervously. “Derrick, I just wanted to say I love watching you…” I squish my eyes shut. “That sounds bad. Let me start again.”

  “Go for it.”

  “I hope you have an amazing birthday… uh… full of everything you want and…” I slump my shoulders. “Take three?”

  “As many takes as you need.”

  It’s going to take me a million if I keep acting like an idiot. Come on, Ari. Tap into the wannabe writer inside you. I shake my head. “No, that’s a bad idea.”

  “What’s a bad idea?”

  Uh. Pouring my heart out in a voice message?

  “Nothing…” I say and go straight to the message. “I don’t really know what to say because I don’t really know you, but from what you show the world, you seem like you have everything. So, I hope that you get the one thing you don’t think you need and that it makes you really happy.” I glance at Max, who seems pleased with my nervous comment. “Happy Birthday, Derrick… from this weird girl who doesn’t know you.”

  Max laughs and adds, “Oh, and she doesn’t subscribe to us.”

  “Maybe I will one day.”

  Max turns the camera on himself and says, “You hear that? Sounds like a challenge to me.”

  Freya stops in front of him, cutting him off. “What is this, recruiting subscribers one at a time, Max?” She glares at me, and I take his distraction as my cue to bolt for the passenger seat.

  3

  Birthday Wish

  Derrick Prince


  Max recorded me reacting to pictures of girl after girl all morning. I only got away from him because he has class and I have a free period with Griffin.

  “He’s been in my face with that damn camera all freaking day,” I growl at Griffin, who’s grabbing his pre-calculus textbook from his locker.

  He pushes his glasses from the tip of his nose up toward the bridge and says, “I told you.” He shoves his book into his bag and zips it up. “It’ll be okay. You know he’s just freaking out because we’re all splitting up after graduation. You’re going to State, I’m going across the country, and he’s not sure what the hell he’s doing.”

  “Pissing me off.”

  “Well, other than that,”—he closes his locker—“we’re just trying to narrow it down. Picking one subscriber to go to prom with you isn’t that easy, especially since you want to actually connect with the chick before you take her to the prom.”

  “I’m starting to regret that.” We walk down the hall toward the senior room for our break.

  “Does it really bother you to have a bunch of pretty girls trying to date you?” He drops his bag on a long table and pulls out his things: book, notes, and cell phone.

  Damn it. I take a seat. “Seriously?” I ask as he unlocks the phone and passes it to me. I don’t want to flip through a bunch of pictures looking for a girl. “They’re all starting to look the same.”

  “Max sent me something for you to hear. No pictures this time.”

  “Fine,” I reluctantly grab my headphones from my backpack and put them on, while Griffin plugs them into the phone and presses play.

  Max’s voice is first on the recording, “Not many girls around here sound like you.”

  I roll my eyes and ask Griffin, “Max wants me to hear him flirt with some girl?”

  Griffin brings his pencil to his lips and tells me to shush. I tune back in, just in time to hear her say my name. Her sexy voice trickles over my skin, causing it to tingle. I laugh at the strange sensation, and her obvious discomfort in talking to Max. She sighs softly and starts again. Her pitch is a little calmer this time—sweeter and more confident—and the message hits home, so much so that I play it again.

  “Who is this?” I ask, just as it cuts off with Max saying she doesn’t subscribe.

  Griffin lifts his head up as I pluck one of the earphones out and play it again. “I don’t know her name.”

  “Did he get her on camera?” I ask, wanting to know what she looks like.

  “No, she didn’t want to be filmed.”

  “I pluck the headphone out of my ear and stop the recording. “Does she go to this school?”

  “No.” Griffin offers nothing more.

  I lean across the table and yank his pencil out of his hand. “Focus,” I say, slamming it down on his notebook. “You and Max have been up my ass all weekend with this. What else do you know about her?”

  “Why? Do you want to actually meet her?”

  “Sure,” I answer, if it’ll get me answers.

  “Thank fuck,” he says. “That’s three. That’s enough.”

  She’s not a subscriber though. “You can message the other two and say they’re in the running, or something, but I have a feeling this girl is the one I want to take to prom.” At least this girl’s a local. The others would have to fly in or drive a couple of hours.

  “Right,” he says flippantly.

  “Does she go here?” I ask, thinking maybe she’s an underclassman I haven’t met yet.

  “No, but her cousin does.” He picks up his pencil and works out his math problem.

  I groan at the lack of information being thrown my way. “Who’s her cousin?”

  “Freya Merchant.”

  I nod my head and try to connect the name with a face. I got nothing. “Who the fuck is that?”

  Griffin raises his eyebrows at me, as if I should know who she is. “We have English class with her.”

  “There are thirteen girls in that class.”

  “Well, one of those is Freya.”

  I cock my head to the side while narrowing my eyes in response to his sarcasm. “Are you messing with me right now?”

  “Hell, yeah.” He chuckles. “I haven’t seen you smile that wide in months.” He closes his notebook and textbook. “She’s the girl with the blue dreads.”

  “Oh, she’s cute.”

  “Luckily, you’ve never dated her.” He moves the chair next to him around, rests his legs on it and points to his phone. “So, you may have a shot.”

  I remove my head phones from the jack and slide his phone across the table. “So, did he get her number?”

  “She was at the diner on Saturday night. He didn’t get a number or a name, but he did say she was cute. Not the usual girl you go for.”

  “Why? Does she have dreads?” I joke.

  “No. She’s a redhead.” Griffin winks at me.

  I always liked red heads. I scooch in closer to him and ask, “Are you friends with Freya online?”

  “I already looked. I couldn’t find any photos of a redhead. If she’s on there, Freya must have her pics set to private or something.”

  “So, did you ask Freya for her number?”

  He glances at the time. “We can in about twenty minutes, but I know Freya. She’s not going to give it to you.”

  “Then I’ll have to ask until she does, or find another way.”

  4

  Doesn’t cost much

  Ariana Merchant

  “Freya,” I squeal as I step inside the back room. “What’s so important that you have to see me in private?”

  She tugs on my shirt and drags me to the bench in the employee room. “Derrick chased me down at school and wouldn’t leave me alone about you all week. He wanted your number so he could thank you for the birthday wish.”

  My cheeks burn with excitement. “Really?” The excitement quickly turns to fear. Oh shit. “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him you weren’t like the girls he normally dates. That your father’s strict.” She flicks one of her dreads back and wraps it around her ponytail. “Like real strict, and that you didn’t have a phone.”

  I grunt. “He probably thinks I’m a loser.”

  “Probably,” she says as she looks around the room. “But if that’s true, then he really likes losers.” She pulls out her phone and taps in her code before passing it to me.

  His face is already occupying the whole screen, and I tap on the encircled triangle to watch the recent upload. I recognize the setting from previous videos. Derrick’s in the lunchroom, sitting near the window that leads to something they call The Lagoon. Every year for the senior class gift, they plant something or add to it. I’ve never been there before, but from what Freya tells me, it’s beautiful.

  Derrick points to it.

  “Prince, it’s drizzling,” Max says as he balances the camera awkwardly, following him out the door. He shoots behind him, catching Griffin stuffing the rest of his sandwich into his mouth, then quickly returns it to Derrick. “You want to tell me why we’re out here in the rain, dickhead?”

  Derrick stops right in front of an octagonal-shaped gazebo and takes a seat on one of the benches. The two girls there get up and leave, telling them to shove the camera up their asses.

  Max points the camera at himself. “We interrupted their chill session, or make-out session. Sorry, ladies.”

  Derrick grabs the camera and flips it around. “I’m going to start off by saying that I’m going to be waiting right here after school.”

  I pause the video when Freya gets up. “Where are you going?” I ask.

  “I have to get to work before your dad docks my pay. I’ll be right back.”

  “Wait.”

  Before leaving she says, “You’re going to need a ride.”

  “For what?” I ask, but she shuts the door in my face. Gah. I hate surprises. I hit the play button again and listen to Derrick.

  Derrick continues to speak. “So, there’s this gir
l who wished me a happy birthday, and in her message, she really made me think. She said I hope you find the one thing you didn’t know you were looking for, or something deep like that.” He glances off to the side, and Max zooms in on him. “It stuck in my head. I played the message over and over again until her voice echoed in my ears, and it kept asking me… What do I not know I need?”

  He chuckles and lowers his voice. He faces the camera again and smirks. “Pretty deep, huh? Some random stranger who watches me on here every day straight up asks me a question that made me go home and analyze my whole life. I knew it wasn’t something material, so I don’t really know why I listed the things I owned—”

  Max cuts him off. “Because you’re an ass?”

  Derrick’s middle finger salute puts a smile on my face. My heart flutters anxiously for the first time.

  “Or…” he drags out, “maybe I didn’t want to know the answer. It’s one of those things that only resonates in you because you know it’s true. You connect with it.”

  Max says something and flips the camera over to Griffin. Give me a break! I fast-forward until the camera is on Derrick again.

  “I guess what I’m saying is, I’ve known all along something was missing, but I didn’t know what. So, I started watching the videos the guys and I made. You all know I don’t watch them because it weirds me out to see myself living on a screen. And it did freak me the fuck out. It was like a virtual diary, listing the things I’ve been missing out on. Things like—”

  “Hey!” I shout when someone yanks the phone out of my hand. My silly smile vanishes the moment I look up to find my father standing in front of me with a clenched jaw.

  He glares down at the screen with a strained expression. My heart pounds as I wait for him to react, but he doesn’t. He just listens.

  “I found this blue notebook.”

  Oh, my God! My fingers cover my mouth. Where did I leave it last?

  “It’s of a girl whose story has yet to be written, and it belongs to this amazing redhead with a pretty voice and killer accent, who I haven’t met yet. But her cousin Freya…”