Jonah is telling a story about him and Marlo when they were 13. Everyone is happily listening to him, with Marlo occasionally adding small parts that Jonah forgets.
Marlo has his arms crossed over his chest, and I try not to stare at how nice they look in this position, especially with the tattoo. I really, really try.
I stare anyway.
It's not like anyone would notice - everyone else's attention is on Jonah.
I should stop staring though, just in case I do get caught.
Stop staring.
The waiter setting my drink down on the table is what refocuses my attention and I thank him as he hands me a straw.
"So, where did you two meet?" Becca aims the question at Marlo.
"At a party a couple weeks ago." He answers.
Becca laughs. "I thought you said she didn't go to parties."
'She' is being completely ignored like I'm not even there.
"It was just a one-off." I say.
Becca seems slightly surprised at me speaking, as if she's only just remembered I'm sitting right next to her.
"You're so pretty by the way. I love your hair, curls are so gorgeous," She smiles, and it looks genuine and her voice and her compliments sound genuine.
You'd have to be really stupid to fall for that.
"Thank you." I say anyway, smiling back at her.
"I wish my hair was curly, it's so ugly."
Yeah, ugly for it to be straight and naturally-blonde and perfect.
She reaches across to me and touches my hair.
It takes everything in me not to snap her wrist.
"Do you think I'd look nice with curly hair?" She's no longer speaking to me.
Marlo shrugs.
"Wish we could like, swap for a day." She laughs, finally moving her hand away from me.
I don't say anything.
"Your hair is so dark too. Is it natural?"
"Yeah, it is. What about yours?" Even though I already know the answer.
She laughs like I'm stupid for asking. "Of course. I've never bleached it. But wait, your hair is naturally black?"
"It isn't black, it's just really dark brown." I say.
"No, it's definitely black. Are we seeing the same thing?" Becca moves her hand to touch my hair again.
Oh my god.
Arguing about what colour my own hair is as if I haven't been growing it for nearly 19 years.
"It just looks black. In proper light you can see that it isn't." I reply calmly.
"No, no. It's definitely black, see?" She picks a curl up to show Marlo as if the rest of my hair doesn't exist.
"No, Becca, I've seen that it's dark brown. You're not right about everything, you know."
He doesn't say it in a lighthearted way. He says it almost like he's annoyed at her.
I've never tried my hardest to not laugh than in this moment right now.
Becca blushes, then lets go of my hair, rolling her eyes at Marlo. "Yeah, whatever. It looks black."
Marlo:
YOU ARE READING
First Light
Romance"I love you. I feel as though we were never strangers, you and I, not even for a moment." - Friedrich Nietzsche, from a letter to Mathilde Trampedach c. April 1876 Have you ever felt a weird sense of familiarity with someone you just met? As if you...
