Late (p.w)

six - soft touches & bruises

"what, like a- date? you barely talk to me." i'm at a loss for words.

"yeah, i guess a date, sure, and i don't really like to talk much, sorry." he smiles while looking down.

my cheeks heat up with joy. i feel kinda weird about a guy liking me. i never had a boyfriend before and boys were never really interested in me throughout my life. i tried to think that there was something wrong with them, not with me, but i knew it was because of the fact that no boys were really interested in black girls, especially dark ones. even guys at my school who were black themselves swore that the farthest they'd go is a light skin, or a mixed girl, so my dating life has been very uneventful, and very dry, except for one boy who kind of gave me a chance.

"sure, when?" i try to say coolly.

"could it be tomorrow? i hate waiting on big events." he suggests. he thinks it's a big event?

"yeah that's totally cool with me." i smile.

"can i have your number, or something?" he mumbles.

"yeah, yeah." i say.

to be completely honest with myself, i am extremely flattered that he's interested in me, and yes i do find him pretty cute, but he's never really been the apple of my eye at all. he's cold, and distant, and he has this natural look plastered on his face which says "i don't wanna be here", so it's weird seeing him act something other than somber, and it messes with my head a little too.

at first i found myself liking harry, until he revealed his toxic personality to me, now mentally i find myself trying to fight the attraction since i know he can't be up to anything with pure intentions.

after i gave him my number i smile. we spend another few seconds glancing at each other before he motions his arm towards the door. i walk in front of him and he stumbles on his way out causing his hands to lightly caress my arms. i look up at the group and i see them all giving me questionable stares, harry's being the most intense.

"what were you two talking about?" harry blurts.

"i asked her on a date." dylan says, with the kindness he once had in his voice completely dissipated.

harry raises his eyebrows faintly before going back to his regular state. "whitnee. " he says.

"what?" i ask. realization hits me a little late that he was acknowledging it was my turn. "oh right, harry. why do you and dylan have the same tattoo under your eye?" i ask him an easy question off of the top of my head because unlike harry, i'm not a fan of public humiliation.

"we were piss drunk that's all." he says quickly.

"i think i saw another guy with kind of the same ones, two guys actually, i think their names were ashton and micheal, or something like that." i say leaving out the fact that i met them in the worse way possible.

are they all friends? it's never hit me till now that those two men i met at that street fight had the similar kind of marking under their eyes too. although it could be different. my vision was blurry as is due to tears flooding the surface of my eyes, mixed with anxiety, and hysteria so my recollection of the whole event was quite fuzzy. which i cant complain about, because that's one of the last things i want ingrained in my memory.

"ashton and mike. yes, we were all drunk we're kind of long time friends." he says without looking at me. "how do you know them?" i usually don't like lying but i feel as if he would think i was an idiot and make fun if i were to tell him i drove right in the middle of a street fight, but in my defense it was the cab drivers fault.