by B. N. Hale
Disconcerted by his perceptiveness, she nodded. “He always said my eyes were like liquid emeralds.”
“On that we can agree,” he said with a faint smile. “Although it’s not your best feature.”
“What would that be?” she asked, stung. She’d always thought of her eyes as her most striking asset.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, taking a bite. “Your courage.”
She sat back. “What do you mean?”
He held her gaze for a moment, his blue eyes piercing into her as if they could read her soul. “I’ve been on a thousand dates,” he said, “and not once has a girl asked me out like you have.”
She laughed to cover her flush. “I don’t feel courageous.”
“A recent acquisition?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Then he shook his head. “Or perhaps Jason never saw it.”
She considered his words, her mind drawn back to their relationship. Jason had always been leading, always stepping in front, always wanting to teach her, to be in charge. She’d fallen into the role of follower but looking back she realized she’d never quite been content. A part of her had resented her place, and when he’d proposed that part had balked.
“Do you always read your dates so effectively?” she asked.
“Usually,” he admitted. “But only by necessity. If I couldn’t tell what a girl liked, the dates would fall flat—which they have, on occasion.”
“Really?”
His lips twitched. “I’ll save the stories for your game on worst dates.”
She helped clean up the lunch and retrieved some of the basketballs. He grabbed a stool placed behind the pole and reached up to disconnect the hoop cauldron. Then they loaded everything into the box and walked to the car.
“Anything else?” she asked.
“Was it not enough?” he asked.
She smiled. “It was plenty. I’ll be hard pressed to top it.”
“I figured you and the blonds had already planned your next strike,” he said, his voice muffled as he loaded the box into the car.
“Nope,” she said. “We were distracted.”
“With classes?”
“No,” she said. “Because a certain guy didn’t call.”
“Who didn’t . . .” Reed’s eyes widened and he began to laugh. “You thought I would call to ask you out.”
“I did,” she admitted. “But then, I’ve never heard of a creative way to ask a girl out.”
“Let’s call it an . . . advanced technique,” he said with a smile.
She folded her arms and leaned against the car. “You realize that most guys these days ask a girl out via text.”
“That’s not very respectful,” he said, unlocking her door and opening it for her. “Or do you like being asked out by a text?”
“No,” she said. “It’s almost as bad as breaking up over text.”
He shut the door and walked around, but his door jammed. He bumped it with his hip and then pulled it open. A moment later they were leaving the park behind. As they pulled back onto the main road he gestured to her.
“The way a guy asks a girl reflects how he will treat her on the date.”
“You sound like my grandfather,” she said.
“I learned it from my grandfather,” he said with a smile. “Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
“So now I have to ask you in a creative way?”
“Of course not,” he said, and threw her a sly smile. “You can always concede defeat.”
“Never,” she said.
“Good,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to win this competition too early.”
She stole a glance. His comment was said to tease but she thought she noticed a trace of desire to his tone. She hoped it meant he wanted the competition for more than just the game. Or was that all she was?
Chapter 6
They left the hidden park behind and he drove her to her car, but at her request, he turned towards her house instead. She’d noticed there was still dried paint on her clothes and did not want to transfer any to her car.
“I’d rather clean up,” she said. “One of my roommates will help me get my car.”
He obliged, and drove her home. When they reached the driveway he exited and opened the door for her. She stood and spotted three faces plastered against the window pane and jerked her hand, signaling them away. Reed smiled as he noticed the motion.
“They want to know about your date.”
“They wanted to come to the color war,” she said.
“Really?”
She nodded. “I didn’t think it was appropriate to bring my roommates onto the date. Ember would grill you like a CIA operative.”
He laughed. “One of these days we should set up a group date.”
As they walked towards the porch she raised an eyebrow. “I got the impression you didn’t do group dates.”
“I prefer single dates now,” he said, “but most of my early attempts were in pairs or larger. It’s easier to keep the conversation going.”
They reached the porch and she turned to him. He smiled and opened his arms, drawing her into an embrace. They were mostly dry but she could feel his body against her, and smiled at the contact before pulling away.
“I’m lucky to have you as my date,” he said.
“See you soon,” she replied with a laugh.
He grinned and walked away, but she waited until he’d pulled back onto the street. Then she turned to the door, which swung open before she could turn the handle. She found herself facing all three of the blondes.
“How was the war?” Ember asked.
“Colorful,” she said, gesturing to the lingering stains on her clothing.
“You should come in,” Marta said in a rush. “I’m sure you want to get cleaned up.”
“Don’t you want to hear about my date?” she asked.
Brittney shook her head. “After you get cleaned up.”
Kate paused in the process of removing her shoes, her eyes drifting between her roommates. She’d expected them to pounce the moment she walked in the door, but now they seemed reluctant to hear about the date. Ember shifted her feet impatiently, making Kate suspicious.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Just go to your room,” Marta said. “Please?”
Confused, Kate walked to her room and swung the door open—and froze in shock. Her room was covered in Saint Patrick’s Day decorations. Green candy littered the floor, leprechauns hung from the walls, and shamrocks spun on string.
“Did you do this?” she asked.
“Nope,” Ember said, all but bouncing on her feet as she pointed to the card on the bed.
She picked up the card and opened it to reveal a simple note.
I’m lucky to have you as my date.
Until next time.
Reed
“Reed did this?” she asked, turning to her roommates and holding up the card. “When?”
“Just after you left,” Ember burst. “He knocked on the door and asked if he could decorate your room.”
“What if my room was dirty?” Kate asked.
Marta scoffed. “You know it never is.”
“I can’t believe you betrayed me,” Kate said, but she could not restrain her smile.
“He was so cute,” Britney said, clearly relieved that she wasn’t mad. “He wanted to leave a note for after the date—before you even started. What kind of guy does that?”
“I can’t believe how fast he set it up,” Ember said. “He must really like you.”
Kate smiled and looked down at the card. In the sea of green she read it again, the very words he’d said on the porch—knowing exactly what she was about to find. It was thoughtful, clever, inventive, and surprising. But she couldn’t be sure if it was still the game, or if he felt for her what she felt for him. With the power to ask now in her hands, she knew only one thing for certain.
She was going to find out.
Volume: 4
By
B. N. Hale
Chapter 1
“You’re fidgeting again,” Jackson said.
Reed sighed. “Sorry.”
He was sitting in the living room, ostensibly doing homework. Jackson and his girlfriend sat at the kitchen table, Shelby helping Jackson with his trig homework. With an effort Reed put the pencil down so he wouldn’t keep tapping his book.
“You should call Kate,” Shelby said.
“It’s not like that,” he said.
“But it can be,” she said.
“Shelby’s right,” Jackson said. “This whole week you’ve been fidgeting like a squirrel on speed.”
“That’s not true,” Reed protested.
Jackson stabbed a finger at him. “Yesterday it took you an hour to eat dinner.”
“It wasn’t that long.”
“It’s called fast food for a reason,” Jackson said.
Reed began gathering his books. “I need to get to class.”
“When will you admit you like her?” Shelby asked.
Reed stuffed books into his bag. “You know my rules.”
“Rules change,” Shelby said. “Or did you think you’d do this dating game forever.”
“I’ll see you guys later,” Reed said, and walked to the door.
Foregoing the jacket, he stepped outside and strode to his car. He climbed into the seat but for a moment just stared at the wheel. Was Shelby right? Did he like Kate that much? He grimaced as another name came to mind.
Aura.
Burying the memories before they could resurface, he jammed the keys into the ignition and turned. Then he backed out of the driveway and made his way to Main Street. Distracted, he nearly hit the curb, and he forced himself to slow down.
It was Thursday morning and traffic was light. Their house was just a few blocks from campus, close enough to bike or walk on the frequent occasions when his Camry decided to take a day off. The belt squealed as he turned into the parking lot next to the psychology building and turned the car off. Then he reached for his bag, but his hand stopped when he noticed a splash of paint on the seat.
A soft smile spread on his face and he reached out to touch the paint. The color war had been one of his favorite activities, but he couldn’t tell what he’d enjoyed more, the day . . . or the date.
He leaned back in his seat with a sigh, wondering if he should end things with Kate before they got more serious. He’d planned their first date like any other, yet never expected such attraction. Her beauty, her intelligence, her subtle courage, all commanded attention.
Leaving his car behind, he trudged to the building and made his way to class. He was early, and only one other student sat in the front row. Taking his usual seat in the middle, Reed pulled out his notebook and pencil and then stared at the map of the brain hanging from the front wall.
The room was large and sloped to the professor’s desk at the base. A white board and a projector screen dominated the front wall, while the other walls contained posters of brain hemispheres and chemistry diagrams.
After sixty seconds he noticed the other student glancing his way, a look of irritation on her face. Then he realized he was taping his pencil again, the sound reverberating throughout the silent room.
“Sorry,” he said.
The girl grunted and returned her attention to her book. Another classmate came in, and then another. Reed nodded to the one he knew but kept his attention on the white board at the front of the room. He glanced at the clock, but only five minutes had passed.
After going on so many dates he’d grown accustomed to letting go, even if he liked the girl. He’d been attracted to some of the girls he’d taken out, but he’d always been able to stifle that attraction—for all except Kate.
What about her was so vexing? What about her demanded attention? If he could find the answer, perhaps he could suppress the desire. Once he did that, he could enjoy their challenge for what it was, a game.
But was that what he wanted?
He stared at the white board without seeing it, his thoughts on Kate’s smile after the color war. Brighter than the colors plastered across her skin, it had conveyed excitement and mischief, a unique sense of adventure.
He imagined ending the dating game, of simply calling Kate and saying he was done. His inability to give an explanation would leave her hurt, but it would be done, and he would never see her again . . .
The very thought caused him to grimace, the prospect of never seeing Kate—let alone hurting her—drawing the scowl to his lips. He’d known the competition would be dangerous, but never considered just how dangerous. Perhaps the question wasn’t if he should retreat from Kate, but if he could.
Other students entered the class and it quickly filled as the hour approached. Then the professor entered and greeted them on her way to her desk. There was still five minutes to class and she liked to review her lesson prior to beginning. Accustomed to her schedule, the other students finished retrieving their books and sending last minute texts before pocketing their phones.
Then another person entered the room. Dressed in a full cloak and pointed hat, he wore nice clothes and an orange and red scarf around his neck. A smattering of laughter drew Reed from his thoughts and he turned to watch the newcomer walk to the front of the classroom.
The resemblance to Harry Potter was uncanny, eliciting titters and stifled laughter. He even had a wand in his hand. Smiling and nodding to the students, he made his way to the front, finally drawing the professor’s attention.
“Young man,” she asked. “Is there something you need?”
“No, thank you professor,” he said in a British accent
He reached the front of the room and withdrew a pole and a black cloth, which he hung on top of the white board. More laughter ensued as the students glanced between the confused professor and the wizard. She rose to her feet, her voice gaining an edge.
“This is my classroom,” she said. “And you are interrupting.”
He glanced at the clock. “Not for three minutes, professor. I’ll be done by then.” Without waiting for a response, he turned to the class and spoke like they were at a show. “I come to deliver a message, but it is to one, rather than all. I trust the chosen one will understand its meaning.” He then pointed his wand at the cloth hanging over the board.
“Wordium Revealium!”
With a stylish flourish he ripped the cloth down from the board, revealing the letters now written there. At no point had he touched the board or put a hand behind the cloth—nevertheless, the text was there in bold lettering.
Any magic you can do, I can do better.
March 29th
6:00
K
Reed laughed, the sound tinged with admiration. The wizard gave a bow amidst applause and whistles and then departed. Many glances were cast about as Reed’s classmates sought to identify who was the intended recipient. Reed just sat in his seat, staring at the letters until the annoyed professor erased them.
As the professor droned on about brain chemistry and behavior, he couldn’t extinguish the smile on his face. He still didn’t know what to do with Kate, but the prospect of another date sent excitement burning in his chest. She’d sent the invitation.
And he would answer.
Chapter 2
Reed drove home in an excitement induced euphoria. Kate had asked him out. And she’d done so with all the creativity and cleverness he could hope for. Jackson and Shelby were sitting at the table. Both turned at his entrance, and both looked smug. Reed shut the door and put down his bag before turning on them.
“We had a visitor in class today,” Reed said. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“It’s possible we received a request regarding your class schedule,” Jackson said, scrunching his face up as if attempting to remember.
Shelby tried to suppress a smile and failed spectacularly. “I hear some think psychology is magic.”
“Just whose side are you on?�
� Reed asked.
They exchanged a look and chorused in unison. “Kate!”
“Traitors,” Reed muttered.
They dissolved into laughter. Although he feigned anger, Reed was actually grateful for their betrayal. Kate would not have been able to pull off such a clever date invitation without assistance, and to be on the receiving end was exhilarating.
Over the next week he tried to stay focused on his classes, but Kate dominated his thoughts. When it was his turn to ask he’d made a point not to call, and told himself it was for her benefit. After all, he couldn’t afford to give her the wrong idea.
But as much as he tried to convince himself that it was for her, he’d refrained from calling out of fear. What was rapidly becoming an unspoken tradition of not calling left him feeling decidedly unsettled, and he frequently found himself staring at his phone, wondering if she’d call.
Despite his conflicting thoughts he looked forward to the following Thursday. He’d received no further contact from Kate since the invitation and had no idea what to expect on the date. Although he was tempted to anticipate and come prepared, he realized he could inadvertently ruin her plans.
He laughed at himself when he realized he was thinking so much about Kate that he’d all but forgotten other dates. Several were still on the calendar but only one between the invitation and the date.
The girl’s name was Willow. She was on the dance team, so he took her dancing. It was a different location than where Kate had shown him, a place he felt reluctant to share with someone else, but he frequently thought of Kate. The moment Willow realized he could dance, her perspective changed, and she was clearly attracted to him. When he declined her invitation to come into her house after the date ended, she was disappointed, but all he felt was relief. He drove home wondering just how much Kate had changed his life.
The rest of the week passed in a blur, and by the time Thursday night rolled around he struggled to keep his excitement in check. Jackson took notice of his fidgeting and provided a constant flow of comments about Kate. Giving up on doing homework, Reed threw a ball of paper at Jackson and went to get ready.
