Dodge Mason // Mystery Boy

4

*ding*

—

I made my way over to the restaurant and opened the door. There was a small *Ding* that sounded when I opened it and walked through. I made my way to the bar, sat on a stool, and saw that new kid working behind the counter drying some glasses. He wore black jeans with a black belt and a black shirt. He had short, dark brown hair and blue eyes. He must be Dodge.

"Menu?" he asked with his back turned to me.

"Uh no thank you. Could I actually just get a basket of fries and and..." I paused. "Well what's your favorite drink?" I asked him with my chin in my hand.

"Apple juice," he replied turning to me trying to resist a small smile. I looked into his eyes and noticed half of his left eye was brown and blue. Charming.

"Then could I also get an apple juice please?" I asked sweetly.

"Coming right up," he said walking into the kitchen.

After a few minutes, he came back out with my fries, poured me an apple juice, and placed it on the counter in front of me.

"Hey you're Delilah right?"

I nod taking a bite of a fry.

"Dodge," he said referring to himself.

"Oh yeah I know, you're the new kid."

"Well it's been a year," he says a bit confused at his nickname.

"Yeah well everyone here has known each other since diapers so the new kid is kinda a big deal," I explain.

"I see..." he says watching me for a second.

"Yeah this town is actually the capital of nothing," I joke around and he lets out a small laugh.

"Well, what about Panic?" he asks. I look up at him from my fries, eyes a little wide.

"What about it?"

"How do you play?"

"What do you have like a death wish or something?" I laugh a bit.

"No," he replies. "Just a taste for danger," he said as the corner of his lips rose.

"Well have fun competing against me," I gloat.

"Well if you're my competition then this'll be a piece of cake," he boasted.

"Ouch," I say jokingly with a hand on my heart. "I'm offended, Dodge. You have no idea what you're up against," I dared.

"You're right," he agrees. "So tell me about yourself." He leans onto the counter across from me, his face now level and close to mine.

"Well... why don't you tell me about yourself first?" I say poking his hand. "It's only fair." I smile at him.

"Deal," he says. "It's a date." He smiles at me confidently.

"What?" I ask trying to hide my smile.

"Meet me here tonight at 8."

"Alright then," I spoke softly allowing my smile to come out. I paid my bill and left to go home and get ready. I walked out of the restaurant and sighed in awe of what just happened. Did I really just get asked on a date?