My dream life

6 • Zelah

I watched as Nick pulled up to the sidewalk, where I agreed that he would pick me up. I didn't want Xavier to know, not after how he reacted last night.

He rolled down the window. "Ready?" he asked, and I nodded, opening the passenger door and climbing in.

I buckled, taking note of the nice leather seats. "This car is different from the one I saw you in before..." I commented, earning an embarrassed expression from him as he pulled away from the curb.

"Yeah, the other is in my garage..." he trailed off, rubbing his hands on the steering wheel. "How many cars do you own exactly?" I continued.

He didn't answer. Instead, he cleared his throat, "So, uh, Xavier lives with you now?" He asked nervously, shooting a glance at me.

I shrugged. "Yeah... he lost his job, and I figured we'd have to move in together once we get married anyway—"

Nick slammed on the brakes as we approached a stop sign, sending me forward a bit before my seatbelt stopped me.

"Sorry, didn't see the sign." He mumbled, dragging his hands to the bottom of the steering wheel.
"Oh, it's fine..." I replied, smiling slightly.

The car went quiet, the ambient sound of its engine and the faint classical music on the radio filling the silence. I fidgeted in my seat.

My eyes wandered around the car, drifting over to him. He wore black trousers and a black button-up shirt, the buttons undone at the top, revealing his collarbone.

His hair fluffed out around his face, his jaw clenched, and he held his left hand tightly around the steering wheel.

His gaze met mine briefly, but he quickly focused on the road again.

We stayed in tense silence until we arrived at the bar.
We got out of the car, and I followed him up to the entrance.

We got a table in the corner of the bar, away from the commotion. He sat down opposite me, his eyes darting from my hands to my eyes.

We ordered drinks, and before I knew it, a good five minutes of silence had passed between us.
"You look nice with short hair," I commented, trying to make small talk.

He hesitated, a light pink gradually growing darker on his cheeks. "Oh, yeah? I, um, kind of hated it when I first got it cut, but... I like it now." He mumbled.

Nick leaned forward on his palm, his gaze softening. "I guess I look different than I did in high school." He remarked, and I shrugged.

"I don't remember much of high school, just bits and pieces... I know we were close, though." I confessed, and he stared.

"Close?" He whispered, his tone bleak. "Were we not?" I questioned, wondering if maybe I overstepped.
I played with the fabric of my shorts and my brows knit together.

"Of course, we were... it's just I didn't think that was completely..." He trailed off, noticing my anxious expression. "We were very close, yeah." He avoided my gaze.

"Right..." I said quietly, nodding my head. I looked down at my hands, picking at the skin on my fingers. He cleared his throat.

"You look the same. It's kind of refreshing... everyone else has changed so much." I glanced up, tilting my head narrowly.

"I don't see a reason to change," I mumbled; my life hasn't really changed much. It's been a bit repetitive the past few years.

He ran his finger along the rim of his glass; his eyes settled on the liquid inside as he thought to himself.

"Change can be a good thing, too." He murmured, almost too softly for me to hear, and I raised my eyebrows inquisitively. His lips curved into a smile.

"would you have preferred the old me?" he inquired. "I don't know; I only remember when you were a nerdy little twig obsessed with impressing girls." I teased.

He rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah, that was a bad phase..." he admitted, chuckling.

My gaze drifted from his face to his left hand, which rested atop the table.

"Your ring is pretty," I commented, and his eyes followed mine. "I should hope so. You gave it to me." He muttered, raising his glass to his lips.

"I—I did?"
He nodded silently. I shook my head, unable to recall the event. "Sorry, I don't remember..." I apologized, lowering my gaze.

He set down his glass, "It's fine; I'd rather you didn't, honestly..." he admitted. He ran a hand through his hair. "Why?" I laughed nervously.

"Mm, it'd be a bad reminder for you." He said vaguely, and I could tell he wouldn't say more.
A bit frustrated, I sighed, "Alright... then, why don't you tell me something else I don't remember? That's why you wanted to meet up, isn't it?"

"I wanted to meet up because I wanted to see you." He said, his blue eyes flickering across my features.

.
..
...

"That was too blunt, sorry." He mumbled suddenly, covering his face.
My heart skipped a beat as I felt myself smiling, "Dork." I giggled, leaning on my palm.

He lowered his hands, meeting my gaze with a glint in his eyes. "There you are." He grinned, his cheeks pink.

I blinked, and he continued, "That's the Zelah I remember."