by D. N. Hoxa
She looked amazing. I never realized just how big her clothes had really been until that day. The dress was dark red in color, and tight enough to let me see the curves of her body. She looked like a different person, yet her face was the same. Her smile as warm. Her blue eyes as light.
“Hey,” she said when she was finally done with the man. “You’re early.”
“I know.” I cleared my throat to get my head together. “I just came in to tell you that I’ll meet you after work. Something came up, and I need to go now.”
The smile on her face faltered, but I didn’t mind. Not with the idea that had taken over my head as soon as I saw her like that.
“Sure,” she said and took half a step back.
“I’ll see you at five?”
“Okay.”
She straightened the imaginary wrinkles of her dress. I don’t think she even noticed, but she did things like that when she was nervous.
She was nervous. Had she dressed up for me?
I almost puked my guts out when I walked out of the shop.
She’d dressed up for me. It made me feel like the Devil would if he were capable of feeling, and at the same time, I wanted to fucking smile at the thought.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Willow Robinson
I felt stupid. So stupid, I wanted to laugh because I couldn’t exactly cry in the shop in front of customers.
The day before, Adrian came back at noon, and finally bought me my cake. I even made him try chocolate cake, and he claimed he didn’t like it. He also promised he’d be back.
And that morning, I’d seen one of Mom’s dresses she’d picked up from laundry the day before. She left them in the living room, and I saw them just as I was about to walk out the door.
A crazy thought came to my mind. Adrian was going to come see me. Why not wear a dress?
So I took the damned dress, went back to my room, and wore it. It was the kind of dress that was supposed to hang loose on your body, but on me, it was tighter. It didn’t look bad, or I thought it didn’t. It was dark red in color, and it reached just above my knees. And I left the house with it on.
I hadn’t worn a dress since college.
And Adrian didn’t even notice it.
How stupid of me to even think he would. He probably considered me a friend. It wasn’t his fault that I’d spent the last two nights dreaming about kissing him. Touching him. Tracing every line of his tattoo with my fingertips.
It really was ridiculous. That day was the fourth time I saw him. Fourth. Hardly long enough to like a guy, let alone fantasize about kissing him. I wanted to beat myself up over it when I realized just how much I expected of him.
I expected him to stop in his tracks when he saw me. Smile at me. Tell me how good the dress looked on me. That I should wear dresses more often.
I was never wearing a dress again.
Five o’clock rolled by, and no Adrian. I waited for another five minutes before I left. It was better that he didn’t show up. It taught me a lesson I’d forgotten. In four days. It took me four days to forget all I’d learned from my past two relationships with guys. This sure refreshed my memory.
I was a corner away from home, feeling pathetic about myself, when someone honked, loudly.
When I turned around, I saw Adrian in a black BMW, waving at me. I had no idea what to do, so I just waited. He pointed at the other side of the road, and waved for me to follow before he drove off.
There was a parking lot right where he pointed. But was I going to follow him? What did he want?
There was only one way to find out. As much as I hated that he changed my mind so easily, I did want to see him. Maybe I knew him for only a few days, but it felt like forever. I’d missed having a friend.
He caught up with me before I made it to the parking lot.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” he said as he jogged towards me. He wore a black shirt today, and it brought out the black in his tattoo. The color that was the most visible on it always depended on the color of his shirts.
“That’s okay,” I said, when I wanted to be angry at him. Make him tell me where he was. But I couldn’t. I wasn’t his girlfriend. We weren’t dating. I wasn’t even sure we were friends, since we’d never put a definition to us.
“I’m going to make it up to you, right now,” he said. “Come on, this way.”
He headed east.
“Where are we going?” I asked, but I was already following. Ugh. Just the sight of his face, and the anger flew out the window. I was so lame.
“You’ll see,” he said, and no matter how many times I asked him in the next five minutes while we walked, he didn’t tell me.
He showed me.
Across the street from where we were standing was the closest law office to my house. I froze.
“You’re going to be interviewed,” Adrian said.
“No.” I shook my head. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” he said. “I already spoke to them, and they agreed to an interview at five-thirty. They’re waiting for you.”
“You spoke to them?” I said and took a step back.
“I did. To him, and all the other lawyers around. Only two agreed to interview you, but I left your name and my number with the rest for when they needed staff.”
I started to laugh. “You gave them my name?”
“I did.” He didn’t seem to realize just how wrong that was.
“Why? What gave you the right to do such a thing?!”
“Because you weren’t going to do it yourself,” he said.
“There’s a reason for that!” I hissed.
“Oh, I remember. I remember the reason. You said you didn’t look good in dresses. You’re a terrible liar, Willow, because good is nowhere near how you look today,” he said.
All of a sudden, my heart felt like it expanded. Was I as superficial as to let those words mean so much to me?
“I’m not going in there, Adrian.”
“Willow, please don’t do this. Just give it a shot. Do you want to spend the rest of your life in Treat Yourself?” he said, and grabbed my hands. When he touched my fingers, I realized just how cold they were.
“Adrian, I’m not ready for this. I only studied law for three months! I know next to nothing,” I said, my voice shaking.
“That’s okay. You’re being interviewed to be a secretary. I doubt they’re going to ask you anything about your studies. Please, just give it a shot.”
I looked at the office, at the clear windows and the large sign, and I shivered. “No,” I whispered. I couldn’t do it.
“If you don’t do this for yourself, I’m going to ask you to do it for me. Will you do this for me?”
“That’s…” not fair! He had no right to ask that of me.
But he did. And I caved.
“Come on, Willow!”
“I’m going to ruin it,” I said.
“Even if you do, you’ll at least know you tried, right?”
His smile was so big, it almost brought up my own.
“Adrian, I’m scared.”
“Good. Scared is good. It will keep you focused. Come on,” he said, and walked with my hand in his. Practically dragged me all the way there. “I’ll be here waiting for you, okay?” he said, and pushed me to the first door to my left.
There was nobody behind the reception desk, and I feared nobody would be in the office when I knocked on the door.
But there was. And he told me to enter.
“Oh, God,” I said when I got out of my second interview at a law office twenty minutes away from town. I didn’t know how I was going to get there every day if he actually accepted me. If.
Adrian was waiting for me in his car when I got out, still shaking, but for some reason with a huge smile on my face.
“Get in!”
“Oh, God,” I breathed again when I got in and the air conditioner chilled me to my bones. I’d so needed that.
“How�
�d it go?”
He was as excited as I was. I could’ve kissed him for it. It made everything so much more real.
“I’m not sure, but he smiled when he saw me to the door. I think he liked me better than the first,” I said, still racing to catch my breath.
“Awesome!” Adrian said, and tapped his wheel. “This calls for celebration. Where can we go?”
Where could we go?
It didn’t matter.
This was already the best day of my life.
Mom kept texting me every half an hour while I sat at a bar with Adrian and drank wine. He even tried to get me to drink beer, but I couldn’t stomach it. It was already a mess in there. Beer would’ve made it worse.
So I stuck to wine and replied to Mom’s every text. She worried about me. She never wanted me out of her sight since Dad died. Sometimes, I thought she was afraid I’d have a heart attack, too, and die alone like Dad had. It took his colleagues four hours to realize he hadn’t come out of the office all morning and go check on him.
But I didn’t tell Mom the truth. I told her I was at the shop still. With Cece, getting ready for a big order. If I told her I was out with a boy, drinking wine, God knew how she’d react. Seriously. She thought I was still fifteen years old.
Adrian was amazing. Maybe I wasn’t experienced and I hadn’t hung out with a lot of boys, but he was really amazing. I felt comfortable talking to him. I loved hearing him speak. He could make me laugh with a single word or a pathetic joke. And for those hours we spent together, I didn’t have a care in the world.
When the time came for us to leave, I couldn’t even explain how much I wanted to tell him to just take me away somewhere. Somewhere we could talk the night away. But I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want him to start running just yet.
“I can’t thank you enough for today, Adrian,” I said when we reached his car.
“Don’t mention it,” he said and winked at me. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?”
My mom was probably waiting for me by the window, so: “I’m sure. I want to walk a little, anyway.”
“Okay,” he said, but he didn’t move. My cheeks heated when I made up this scenario where he casually leaned closer to me and kissed me.
“Will I see you tomorrow?”
I started to walk backwards away from him, because I feared I might start puking all over him.
“If you want to,” he said, and for a second, he looked sad. His whole expression changed.
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He stayed like that, leaning against the hood of his car, watching me until I turned the corner. I felt his eyes on the back of my head, and I wondered what it would be like if I turned around and ran back to him. Asked him to kiss me. The fear would never let me turn, so I didn’t.
We’d finally exchanged numbers, because Adrian didn’t do social media. I wasn’t sure why I liked that, when I had open accounts almost everywhere. When I went to bed, I texted him.
Thank you, I said, and I knew he knew I meant for everything.
My pleasure, he replied.
That night I fell asleep without hating myself for the first time in two years.
Adrian Ward
I was never a person who talked a lot. I don’t think anyone outside my family ever heard me laugh before Willow. I guessed that’s why I spent the whole night chasing her in my sleep.
I dreamed about you, I texted her while we ate breakfast. For some strange reason, texting her seemed like a normal thing to do.
How? she said a minute later.
I was chasing you but you never stopped running.
“What the hell are you doing?” Doc said when he caught me with my phone in hand. I put it down on my lap immediately and continued to eat.
“Nothing,” I mumbled.
“Are you talking to someone?” Alan said. “Are you texting, Adrian?”
“No,” I said, the same second my phone vibrated. She’d replied.
I thought about leaving the text unopened until I was alone again. Three seconds later, I opened it.
I think I like that dream.
“Wanna tell us who she is?” Doc said, grinning. “I haven’t seen you smile like that since you were a kid.”
“Fuck you, Doc,” I said and earned myself a nasty look from Dad. He didn’t appreciate curse words at the table while we ate. “Sorry.”
“So that’s what you’ve been up to when we think you’re working? Chasing pussy?” Alan said, grinning, and Dad slammed the table. “Shit, sorry, Pops. Sorry.”
I stood up from the table.
“Hey, where you going?” Doc called after me.
“Out,” I said without turning, and I ran to the woods.
Working. My brothers called this working. I didn’t know whether I wanted to laugh or break something.
It was just a dream. I would’ve caught you in real life, my text to Willow said.
Don’t be so sure, she said. Then: Maybe I have super speed and your dream was real.
I sat on a trunk and laughed. Do you believe in supernatural stuff, Willow? I don’t know why I asked her. Perhaps I was testing her. Perhaps I was just making conversation. Which, in itself, was weirder than I knew how to handle, so I didn’t think about it.
I’d been with girls before. Not as many as my brothers because it was always hard for me to actually talk to them. Without talking, not many were willing to fall in bed with me. But I talked to Willow. I texted Willow. I couldn’t wait for noon so I could go see Willow.
Duh. Superman is super real, Adrian.
I laughed again and my voice echoed in the empty woods. I didn’t think those trees had ever heard me laugh before, either.
What about the Devil? Do you believe he’s super real, too?
It was a dangerous thing to be doing this, but I couldn’t picture having this conversation while looking at her face. My expression could give away more than I wanted to.
Don’t know. Probably. I do know DareDevil is real, though.
If she only knew.
I’ll see you later, I said, and I started to run.
“Guess what?” Willow said, as soon as I entered the shop. She was smiling bigger than I’d ever seen her. It was a perfect look on her face.
“What?” I said, and though my head was killing me, I smiled back.
“Mom and George are going to Paris!” She clapped her hands.
“They are?”
“Go ahead, sit down. I’ll be right there.” She waved at the table where I always sat.
“Okay,” I said, grinning.
She came back soon after with two cups in hand and sat down across from me.
“A few days ago, I spent hours searching for offers for Mom and George to go on vacation, and I found this offer for Paris. Mom always wanted to go there, and I figured if I could get a couple days to myself, it was be so amazing,” she said.
At the mention of his name, my stomach turned. I wanted to run to him right now and break his fucking neck. How could he even blame Willow, when he knew that she wanted to be away from them more than he did?
“But Mom said no. At first. And then this morning, they told me she’d changed her mind. They’re leaving next week!”
It was impossible not to laugh at her flushed face and huge smile. “That’s great, Willow.”
“It is. It’s the best thing that could’ve happened! I’m finally going to get a week all to myself!”
And I thought, yeah, right before I kidnap you. Or worse.
“I’m really happy for you,” I said, and she must’ve heard something in my voice, because her smile faltered.
“What’s wrong?” She’d definitely heard something.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” I cleared my throat. “Have you told your mom about the interview?”
“No, not yet,” she said.
“Why not?” Maybe if she did, George would change his mind and come take his money—and his request—back from us.
“Because…I don’t know. She freaks out a lot, so I never know how she’ll react. And I don’t want her to know until I know for sure, first.”
“I think you already do. There’s no way they’re not going to call you. They’d be fools not to.”
A shy smile spread on her face. I was almost certain she thought I was just saying that because she wanted to hear it. But I wasn’t. It was the truth. Her presence spread positivity. She was smart. The most non-judgmental person I’d ever met, and she worked hard. She worked hard at a job she hated, so imagine what she could do if she actually liked what she did.
“Thanks,” she whispered. “But I’ll just keep it to myself until they do.”
“It shouldn’t take them long,” I said. “And when you start, you’re going to nail it. You already look the part.”
The dress she had on, this one blue, brought light to her face and eyes somehow. She looked more beautiful than words could say. It was a pity that she couldn’t see herself through my eyes.
“It was hot today, so…” she looked away from me and shrugged.
“Hey, you wanna go to the bar tonight?” I asked and surprised us both. But I’d rather I spent time with her until it was time to actually sleep, than go home and lock myself in my room, waiting for night to fall. It was getting harder every day, because the more I learned, the less options I saw.
“Yeah, I’d love to,” she said.
“Last night, I thought I heard the waiter say that a jazz band would be playing tonight.”
Willow flinched. “I hate jazz.”
“Me, too,” I said, laughing.
“So…” she whispered after a second. “Is it like…like a date?” She wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“You can call it whatever you like, Willow. As long as you’re there.”
Willow Robinson
Why did I ever think I didn’t like jazz music?
I loved jazz music! Or maybe I loved jazz music when I listened to it with Adrian. At the start of our date—because that’s what I was calling it—I started to think about how much trouble I was already in. But then we started talking, and I forgot all about the life I had when he wasn’t around.
