cruel summer; dallas winston

FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR: CHERRY PIE WITH THE CONVICT

Darcey wasn't nervous per se, but she wasn't particularly ready. As she waited in the den of her home for Dallas Winston to arrive she replayed what her father had prepped her on, what to be sensitive of and what to speak about. Because of her absence when Dallas had originally came by to see her she had been told by her father to be absolutely perfect.

So, there she sat. In a powder blue mid-thigh dress with knee-high white socks, black kitten heels, and a powder blue headband. She loved headbands that matched her favorite outfits.

She then heard a loud knock on the door, so heavy and striking she was surprised the door didn't fall down. She got up and swiftly made her way, opening up the gate to the inside of her home. Outside of it was who she expected, Dallas.

He seemed bored out of his mind before she even spoke a word, leaning against one of the pillars on her porch, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans like he wished he was in jail rather than there. However when he saw her he arched an eyebrow,

"Where's your dad?" he asked coolly, no emotion in his tone. She smiled politely.

"I'll be meeting with you today." she told. He squinted his eyes at her like it was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard in his 17 years of living, but sighed.

"Alright," he muttered.

Soon enough the two of them were sitting in her back living room, her sat crossed legged on the plush yellow loveseat while he sat uncaringly on the couch.

"So," she said, playing with her skirt, awkwardly. She didn't want to be here, he didn't want to be here, but there they were.

"Uhm, how's your day been?" she asked, he was staring up at her ceiling. It was smooth and flat, her mother couldn't stand popcorn designs. She always said that they made a nice house look cheap.

"Fine, man," he sighed, Darcey nodded, looking around the room for something to busy herself with. She didn't want to admit it but his presence scared her, usually she wasn't scared of the people her father defended, however she usually only had to meet them once. At dinner. With everyone around her. It was only him and her in the home, her parents out on the town, deciding Dallas would be more comfortable that way.

"I did it." Dallas muttered. She looked over at him incredibly confused,

"Huh?" she asked quietly. He shrugged playing with the ring on his finger as if he said he liked her skirt.

"I did it man, I tried to kill him." he repeated. She felt a shiver down her spine, she thought at least he'd attempt to deny it. He then glanced up at her, smirking, as if he told her purposefully to scare her.

"Why'd you try? What'd he do to you? Did ya even know him?" she asked, question after question. He arched an eyebrow looking at her, he was surprised she didn't just dart out of the room immediately, leaving him able to go home.

"Well, I mean..." he sort of trailed off. He didn't expect to get this far in the conversation, but she sat trying to seem unfazed across from him. "We were fightin', I'd heard of him," he said. She nodded as a sign for him to go on.

He shuffled in his seat, he told the story to his friends with pride. But for some reason now it was nerve-racking, not that he showed it.

"Well, don't go quiet now. How'd it happen? Gimme a story," she said, more forceful than she ever normally was. Her curiosity was peaked now, she needed the details. She needed a reason to convince herself he was a good person. As stated before, she could never be a lawyer. She needed to see the good in people.

Dallas sighed before telling her, telling her how he almost killed a man. Leaving out gory details, because something about the ribbons in her hair and her leg warmers made him not want to dish it all out. Basically chopping it up to the fact that he was talking shit and pulled a gun on him. Dallas shot first, aiming for his chest and missing at his arm.

Darcey stayed quiet for a long while, up in her head. Wondering if she was comfortable sitting so close to a murderer. Well, wannabe murderer.

"Do you want cherry pie?" she asked after four long minutes of thinking. Dallas arched an eyebrow, in shock.

"What?" he'd heard what she said, he wanted to double-check that she'd heard what she'd said.

"Do you want cherry pie? My Mom made some," she asked again. Dallas opened his mouth for a moment to tell her off. But as she gave him an innocent gaze, with a soft smile he decided he could eat.

So, in a few minutes, they were sat at her dining table eating pie and drinking milk in silence. It took him a minute to finish his plate while she had barely started in on her first bite. As soon as he finished he stood and left through the front door, the same door he used to enter her home.

She giggled to herself and continued eating her pie.

[authors note: do i like this chapter? no. not at all. am i gonna post it? yeah.]