by D. K Lake
I let out a sigh and closed my eyes for a moment, feeling tired.
A knock at the window made me jump.
I looked over the top of my pillow and that's when I saw him...Dario Boston.
He didn't say anything and just nodded his head at me to join him outside. I was so confused. What was he doing here?
He was wearing dark jeans, black boots, and a white t-shirt with his leather jacket over the top that he wore all the time. When I thought of Dario, I always pictured him wearing that jacket. His naturally dark blond hair was pulled back into a small knot at the back of his head. He had let it grow long and had started wearing it like that a few months ago. His skin was naturally a few shades darker than mine, as though he had just got back from holiday, but it never seemed to fade.
I was still staring at him like a dumbstruck idiot when he waved at me to hurry up and I snapped out of it. I reached for the door handle, but it didn't budge, and then I remembered Mom had locked me in the car and taken the keys with her.
"It's locked." I said loudly, feeling like an idiot.
He ducked down and looked through the window and pointed at the roof window. I didn't really want to climb out of the roof, but I wanted to see him and say goodbye, and this was the last chance I would get. I pushed the window back and pulled myself out. I swung my legs over the side of the car and Dario reached up to pick me up and lifted me off the roof as though I weighed nothing.
I had watched Dario grow from a weedy little kid into the man he is today, tall, strong, and lean, and it made my heart skip a beat whenever he looked at me. He was the kid nobody noticed, until one day...you couldn't help but notice him. I never saw him with other girls, but I didn't really know him outside of work.
"Thanks," I said and he dropped his hands from my hips and returned them to his pockets. "What are you doing here?" I asked, tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind my ear, suddenly remembering I wasn't wearing any makeup.
I was always a stickler for removing my makeup before I went to bed, but today I wished I had left something on my face. I probably looked washed-out having been woken up at the crack of dawn.
Dario didn't answer and looked at the ground beside my feet, but I couldn’t help but notice the cut on his cheek as though he’d been in a fight which was nothing new.
"Did you know I would be here?" I found myself asking.
He shook his head. "No, um...Mitchel's in the hospital. I just came to see how he is." He nodded his head at the hospital.
Right. Of course. Stupid. I had almost forgotten why I was here in the first place. Mitchel was my sister's druggie boyfriend and he was shot earlier tonight.
"Oh...is he okay?"
"I don't know." he replied, his eyes drifting back to me.
"Do they know who shot him?"
He shook his head slowly, pulling the brim of his cap down lower. He looked back at Mom's car and saw all the clothes and boxes.
"Um...we're moving. I was going to tell you-" I started.
"It's okay. I already know you're leaving."
"You do?" I asked, feeling a little disappointed that he knew I was leaving and hadn't bothered to message me or anything.
He reached up and rubbed his tired, hazel eyes. He looked as though he hadn't been to sleep, or maybe he was hungover. He was being extra quiet compared to his normal chipper self.
"Are you okay?" I asked, wondering if this was because of what had happened to Mitchel.
He laughed under his breath. "No. Not really."
I chewed on my lip, glancing back at the hospital, not knowing what to say. He was clearly upset.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He shook his head again.
"Not talk." he said, reaching for me and a moment later I was in his arms. I slid my arms around his waist and hugged him back and he rested his chin on top of my head and held me close. I could hear his heart pounding inside his chest which gradually increased. I liked knowing I could cause his heart to race and that he was affected by me just as much as I was by him.
I breathed him in, burying my face in his t-shirt. He smelled of smoke like he always did and his normal outdoors smell, and whatever deodorant he used, but there was something else. Bleach, maybe? I couldn't imagine he had been scrubbing his house at six in the morning, but the longer I spent in his arms, the easier it was to pick up the smell of bleach and disinfectant.
I slowly pulled away and looked up at him and he tilted his head down to see me, the brim of his cap brushing the top of my head.
"Have you been cleaning?" I blurted.
"What?" he deadpanned.
"You smell strange."
He let go of me all of a sudden and took a step back, shaking his head with a shrug, but I knew he was hiding something. He reached up to adjust his cap and that's when I noticed something red embedded under his short fingernails.
"Is that blood?" I asked, reaching for his hand but he moved it away quickly and shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Paint." he said with a frown.
"What have you been painting?" I was almost afraid to ask. He was acting really weird.
"Walls."
"What's wrong? There's something you're not telling me."
I had a bad feeling.
"There's a lot of things I'm not telling you." he said, glancing across the parking lot.
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing. Maybe it's a good thing you're leaving." he said with a sigh, looking back at me with cold, dead eyes.
"Well..." I was caught off guard, this was not the goodbye I had pictured in my mind. "Maybe you're right. There's nothing for me here anyway." I said angrily, but it was a downright lie.
My dad was here, my best friend was here, my whole life was here, he was here, but what he had said hurt me. I thought that maybe he liked me...but maybe I had been fooling myself all this time.
"I guess this is goodbye then. I hope your friend will be all right." I said and quickly stepped around him about to climb onto the hood of the car, trying not to cry but I felt something wet slide over my cheek.
"Wait." He grabbed my arm and lifted me off the car and set me back on the ground.
"What?" I snapped, glaring up at him, his hand still gripping my arm.
He saw my tears and his eyes softened.
"Paige," he said softly, his tone changing completely. "Don't cry."
"Why do you care?" I asked, trying to push him back a step but it was like pushing against a brick wall.
"Of course, I care."
"Don't lie. I'm just a game to you." I said, wiping at my eyes.
"You're not a game to me, Paige."
"Like Truth or Dare wasn't a game to you? Remember when you phoned me up and got me to say all those private things to you on the loudspeaker so all your friends could hear and have a good old laugh at my expense."
"Nobody knew it was you, and that was weeks ago, everybody has forgotten about it by now."
"I haven't. You really hurt me." I said, keeping my eyes on his chest, not able to look at him.
"I know, and I'm sorry, okay? I already sent you a million ‘sorrys’ apologizing for it."
I didn't say anything. I still felt like an idiot over the whole thing.
Dario sighed, lifting his cap off his head and running a hand over the loose strands to push them back.
"I didn't think you were leaving for a couple more hours?"
"Change of plan. Mom's just gone to find Kelsey and then we're leaving Radley."
"I was going to stop by after I left here." he told me.
"You were?" I lifted my eyes to his.
"Yes. I shouldn't, though."
"Why not?"
"Because...everything is so fucked-up right now. I don't want you involved...it's the reason you haven't seen me. I was purposely trying to stay away from you."
"Is this because of the Torres brothers? Are you in some kind of trouble?"
He stared over the top of my head. "The l
ess you know, the better." He looked back at me, lifting my chin with his fingers. "It sucks that you're leaving, but it's probably best that you and your sister get out of town."
"What's Kelsey got to do with this? Is this to do with Mitchel getting shot?"
His phone suddenly started ringing and he dug it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID.
"I have to go." he said, canceling the call before I could see who was calling him. "Are you going to be okay now? You're not going to start crying as soon as I leave, are you?"
"I don't know." I said. "I don't...I don't want to go." I admitted and started to cry again. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling.
"Paige, baby, shh." He pulled me into his arms again and hugged me for what felt like forever but then his phone started ringing again and he cursed. "Shit. I have to go. Tell me you're all right?" he said, searching my eyes and I numbly nodded. "I'll ring you when you get to Nebraska, okay?"
"Am I going to see you again?" I asked, fearing the worst. I felt like this wasn't really happening, not wanting to let go of him, not knowing if we'd ever see each other again.
"Yes."
"Promise?" I asked.
"Yes, I promise." He ran his thumb along my cheek and my eyelids fluttered shut.
His damn phone started ringing again.
"Fuck's sake." he grumbled, canceling the call again. "Are you sure you're gonna be all right?" he asked again.
"Yeah. I’ll be fine." I forced a smile and swallowed the lump in my throat.
He turned to leave and had only gone a few steps before he stopped. I watched the back of him, waiting for him to turn around, waiting for him to come back and kiss me goodbye the way I wanted him to, just waiting for him to say something...anything, but he didn't.
He walked away and then he was gone.
I climbed back into the car. I had told him I would be okay, but it was a lie. As soon as my butt was back in my seat, I started balling my eyes out. He didn't even kiss me goodbye...
When I arrived in Nebraska, I sent him countless messages but he never replied and eventually, I gave up, feeling like an idiot, thinking that he cared about me...Until one night, some months later, he sent me a sad face Emoji out of the blue.
I replied and asked him what was wrong and he told me he missed me and that he'd had a lot going on, and I did something totally stupid and out of character and made arrangements to meet up with him halfway at a motel...but I don't like to think about that night. It brings back painful memories that I just want to forget.
Chapter 4
"Are you ok?" Dario brings me back to the present and I get my head out of the clouds and stop daydreaming about the past.
"I'm fine." I lie, clutching my dress close to my chest. "Could you turn around?"
Dario raises an eyebrow at me.
"Please?"
He turns around and I quickly slip the dress back on, trying to think of a way to get out of here, and silently wishing a hole in the floor would open up and swallow me. He turns around before I tell him he can, and I quickly straighten my dress. I snatch up my bag and hold it close.
"You look good, P." he says, a smile on his lips as he says my nickname. He studies me for a long moment, his eyes roaming up my legs. "What's it been…a year?" he starts but I can tell he’s pissed off. "A whole year and you haven't bothered to get in contact."
"Why would I do that?" I try to control my breathing.
"Oh, I don't know. I was under the impression that night in the motel meant something to you? I guess I was wrong."
"I guess you were."
"That's it? That's all you have to say to me after all this time?"
"I have nothing to say to you. What happened was a mistake, we were both drunk."
"Right. A mistake." He laughs under his breath. "Wow. You're not the same girl I remember." He fixes me with a glare. He's right. I'm not the same girl, I left her behind when I left that motel…along with my innocence.
"No. I'm not. What happened between us is in the past. So, let's just forget about it and pretend we never ran into each other tonight, okay? I'm here to go to college and spend time with my dad and his new family."
"Are you being serious?" He looks hurt and it makes this so much harder for me. I can't do this. We can't do this. I had spent a year trying to forget him, trying to move on after what had happened, and now he's here, bringing up the past and making me feel like the bad person in all of this for not getting in touch with him. But he has no idea how much I wanted to get in contact but couldn't. I would have done anything to have him come and rescue me from the trouble I found myself in last year, but I didn't want to put it all on him, and my mom practically locked me up in the house and I couldn't get to a phone. Then when I did have access to a phone I couldn't bring myself to call him...the idea of coming clean and telling him what I had done...what my mother forced me to do.
"Why haven't you messaged me back? It's been a whole year, Paige. A whole fucking year! You changed your number and you didn't even bother to tell me."
That's not true, I never changed my number, but I'm guessing my phone has been switched off this whole time. My mom confiscated my phone and I never got it back and when I left for college it was still under lock and key. I searched the whole house but gave up trying to find it. I had been using the house phone to talk to Em.
"I'm not doing this with you. Can you please move so I can get out?" I make a move for the door and he blocks me and I back into the wall, pulling at my dress. Dario notices and something crosses his face. He must wonder why I had my dress off in the first place.
"What's wrong with you?" he asks, examining me.
"Nothing." I say, trying to skirt around him but he braces his arm against the wall in front of me to stop me.
"Please," I almost beg, wanting to get out of here. Being this close to him is making me question everything I did this last year.
"What were you doing in here?"
"I um...spilled some drink on my dress. I was just cleaning it off." I say in a fluster as he looms over me. Did he grow a couple of inches taller this last year? Even in heels, he's a lot taller than me brushing six-foot.
"Where?" he asks.
"On the hem, you can't see it. Now, will you please get out of my way?" I try to push past him and he quickly grabs the top of my arms and holds me still, looking at something over my head and I suddenly remember there is a mirror behind me. I move my bag around to hide the stain but it's too late.
"Is that blood?" he asks.
Gawwwd.
"Please just let me go." I beg desperately.
"You got your period?" He almost laughs.
"It's not funny!" I smack him and he lets go, hands up in surrender.
"Did anyone see this?" He's still trying not to laugh.
"No. Just you. I came in here looking for...I don't know. This is so embarrassing," I cover my face.
"It's just blood." he says matter-of-factly.
"Just blood?" I gape at him. "I need to go."
"Wait." He gently pushes me back.
"Stoooop. Just let me go." I groan and see the corners of his lips twitching. "What do you want?"
I want to get out of here. I feel too cramped in here with him crowding me.
"Annoying, isn't it?"
"What?"
"Not getting answers."
I huff and lean back against the sink, crossing my arms. He's doing this on purpose because I cut contact with him.
"Can I borrow your phone?" I ask nicely, hoping I can ring Em to come and rescue me.
"Where's your phone?" he asks.
"I don't have one."
He snorts as if he doesn't believe me.
"I don't. Mom confiscated my phone and she never gave it back. I haven't had one in months."
He frowns, but he still doesn't offer me his phone.
"So, you decided to come back to Radley?" he says changing the subject, leaning back against the door, blocking my escape. Holdi
ng me hostage.
"I'm here, aren't I?"
"You could have gone anywhere. Why come back here?"
"I don't have to explain myself to you." I snap. "Dario, please. I need to get back to my dorm room."
We stare at each other for a few moments and his eyes seem to soften and he looks down at my dress again, his eyes lingering on my legs a little longer. He shrugs off his checkered shirt, revealing his muscular arms and tanned body which stands out against the white t-shirt he has on underneath. He holds it out to me as my eyes stay fixed on his.
I don't want his shirt. I don't want to be stuck in a bathroom with him. I don't want to be here, but I don't think he'll let me leave until I take the shirt and cover myself.
"Take it. It will hide your dress."
I snatch the shirt from him and quickly slide my arms into the long sleeves, trying not to inhale his delicious scent. Dario always smells like the woodsy outdoors. It reminds me of when I was a child and my father used to take me and my sister camping. I love being outdoors in wide-open spaces. Dario’s scent brings back too many memories. Good and bad.
Dario's shirt drowns me, but at least it covers all my important parts and hides anything from view. Now I can get back to my dorm without anyone else seeing this disaster.
"Thanks." I say and he nods his head and stares at me for a beat too long before he finally exhales loudly and reaches for the door handle. I quickly slip out the door before he changes his mind and grills me about the last year, and make a run for it.
"I'll see ya ‘round, P!" Dario calls after me.
