Dangerous

8. When the Lights go down (I'm blown by the wind)

"Charlotte." He nods and smiles. "I'm Ryan." He says and shakes my out-stretched hand.

I smile back and keep my eyes fixed on the red-head with greenish-blue eyes in front of me. Every feature of his accentuated by the other: His eyes were like the sea in the morning sun; contrasted which his ginger hair dyed blue on the edges. His freckles contrasted with his sun-burnt complexion. His black and white attire. My eyes itched to wander and just glance at a certain guy with browner hair, and eyes that were less perfect, but green like an those of an outdoor cat's. But, I squash the urge.There was also, no possibility of another person who was was much darker and far more exotic looking that screamed dangerous, somehow. But had been home for at least 4 years, now.

The background Ryan foregrounds is brightly lit - like any other area in Rachel's home. Everything has a touch of gold and white to it. She's a fan of things being in order - and it shows in her home. We used to talk; things went south, and I'm still unsure why. We used to be friends and in chir together in the fourth grade. But-

"So, Charlotte." He says. "How long in Ireland?"

"My mother was Irish, I've only been here."

What up with that question, as of late? 

"Oh. I'm sorry, mate." He shrugs.

I frown as I feel like I'm missing something very obvious. "I'm sorry..." I say. "Do I know you? You sound... familiar..."

"Yo! Ryan!" says Cameron as he walk walks up to us. "I see you've already met Char." He says, beaming. He has a glass of beer in his hand and that is when it hits me. Apparently, my mother's accent was too cool for the both of them.

"Ryan!" I breathe. "You're from the UK!"

He laughs, "Bloody hell, I am!" He smiles and studies me. "That is generally what most
people notice, first."

"Oh." I say. "I'm sorry. I'm quite used to the English spoken in the UK.The accent.  My mother's from... there. Birmingham, born."

He shakes his head. "Not an issue, mate."

"So..." Cameron pipes in as he rocks back and forth on his heels. When my gaze slips past him, I notice a few heads - all dressed in formal attire. Though, none of them was the head I wanted to look at.

"Where's... Kaya?"

"Not sure if she's coming," said Cameron.

"Not sure?"

"Ask her yourself."

I sighed.

"Why don't you two Brits have fun." says Cameron as he frowns. He doesn't like silence - and this was a record of silence for him.

Ryan chuckles, "Sure, mate." He says and waves at him

I sigh, "Brits."

He chuckles, "Char - if you don't mind me calling you that. When's your birthday?"

"December twenty-fourth." I say. "Yours?"

"The fifth of October."

I nod and my gaze shifts to everything around him. As  my hands start to itch due to inactivity, Ryan says: "Want a drink?"

I smile. "Funny, it's exactly what I had in mind." I say. "Some Red Wine?" I ask.

He nods. "Yeah. Wait right here" he says and then walks away. As I take note of his retreating form I wonder if he was a dancer. I sigh as my attention shifts to my mother's watch on my wrist: It's Quarter to seven - half an hour until something actually happens. I look around and find a halo of hair that is like the color of red wine, itself. I smile at his back and frown as I start to question what I was doing in life, right now. Was I actually willing to still talk to Jacob? Till what end? Did my own plan make me want to abort the plan - as stupid that sounded, it made sense - I think.