The Clichés

Chapter Four

On that beautiful Saturday morning, Vanessa walks into the foyer of El Classico and finds Dylan at a table, tapping his fingers on his knees. The room was painted a warm brown, and everything was trimmed with gold paint. A large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. The tables and chairs were a gentle ivory color, the same color as her favorite dress. The floor was a medium toned hardwood, and Vanessa thought that she had never seen a fancier restaurant bar in her life. After Vanessa and Dylan’s  first encounter, they'd tried several times to hook up for a drink, but nothing worked because their schedules were pretty different. Today, both of them found the chance. And here she is, walking towards Dylan, careful of her steps, her head held up high like a rugby champion.

She spent like an hour deciding what to wear for this. She went with a dark purple tank top with a push-up bra to show off her cleavage. She paired it with a long, light gray maxi skirt patterned with blues, lavenders, and pinks in a watercolor effect. She wore her brown suede ankle boots again, as well as an array of wood and silver bangle bracelets, her wooden earrings, and her wooden necklace. She wore silver rings on her index and ring finger, as well as her thumb and middle finger on her right hand. She decided to keep her hair down but braid some of her hair into a headband. Her makeup matched her outfit.

 She straightened her skirt and glanced up. The table was set with a bottle of champagne. Next to the bottle sat two champagne flutes and a tray of cookies. Miniature cordylines sit around the corners in carefully adorned pots, red and deep green spinous leaves, giving off the faint fragrance of roses. Vanessa says hi to Dylan and lowers herself to the seat opposite him.

"Aw, ordered already?" she says.

"We could get something else if you don't like these," he replies.

"I didn't say that."

"At least, not yet, right?"

They both erupt into synched laughter. Vanessa stops first and watches him laugh. He laughs like a kid, she observes. A free, happy kid. He closes his eyes and grabs the edges of the table, and the sounds come out of his mouth, the sound of water bubbling.

"This is a date, yeah?" she asks, matter-of-factly.

"Technically…"

And so, they munch the cookies while stealing glances at each other. Music from the hall seeps occasionally into the foyer, Spanish songs with exotic melodies and strong beats. Vanessa pops the champagne open unceremoniously and is pouring herself a glass.

"So, do you have any hobbies?" he asked. Vanessa glanced up at him under her eyelashes and smiled. 

"I like to go antiquing and upcycle clothes from thrift stores. Sometimes it’s fun when you find old band t-shirts, because then you can cut up the coolest part and add it to a quilt" 

"That sounds fun. Can't say I've ever done anything like that before," he laughed before taking the bottle from her to pour his own glass. “You are definitely the first twenty three year old I’ve met who likes quilting,” he laughed.

"Well, what do you do for fun?" 

"My boys and I usually hit up house parties whenever we can, anything to keep away from home," he smirked. Vanessa glanced at him, sympathy flashing on her face. Remembering the conversation she overheard the other day, it was clear that all of them had terrible home lives. Maybe they just needed encouragement to break free from the trap they locked themselves in. 

"Well, if this goes well, maybe I can come with you guys next time." 

He raised his eyebrows and smiled. "You think you're brave enough to go to a house party with us?" he teased. Vanessa nodded and leaned closer to him. His eyes flicked down, noticing the shift, and he swallowed.