Scenes from SparkNA

Scene from Breakfast with Brie by Irene Nicolas-Recio

From the author: If you believed in love at first sight, then Brie and Carlo's first chance encounter could only be described as "despise at first sight." She was the poster girl for square, driven, and has-life-under-control young ladies trying to find their way into adulthood. Nothing could distract her from acing her practicum in the company of her dreams and graduating with honors. He was the poster boy for smooth-talking, swaggering, and charm-your-way-out-of-situations guys all around. He was determined to sweep her off her feet one clever way at a time. They couldn't be more opposites if they tried. But no matter how much Carlo tried to catch her eye, she just shot him down every chance she got. Her heavily scarred heart could not handle the serial-dating, commitment-phobic, and severely charming Carlo. And the ever-faithful presence of a girl from his past further complicated their situation. But no matter how much she resisted, disdain turned into undeniable chemistry.

At one point during the show I felt cold. The air-conditioner at the theater was in full blast. I rubbed my arms, shivering slightly.

"Brie, are you ok?" Carlo leaned over to me and whispered.

"It's so cold," I whispered back.

He took off his coat and put it on me. I tried to protest, but the warmth was too good to resist.

"Thank you," I said to him as I squeezed his arm.

"Whoa. You're hands are like ice!" he said.

I just nodded and settled back into my chair, thankful for the warmth of his coat. It smelled of him and his musky cologne. I loved that his smell enveloped me. It was still freezing, but I hardly noticed anymore.

"Your hands are still cold," he said as he took both of my hands. There was that zing again. My back turned rigid. He started rubbing his hands briskly with my hands inside them. "Let's try to warm them up."

I just sat there with my eyes glued to the models sashaying across the runway and striking poses to the beat of the techno music playing, not saying anything, as he continued to warm my hands.

After a while he stopped rubbing, but he still had his hands around mine.

He gently let go of one hand, but kept his hold on the other. There was that shot of electricity once again. It felt warm and cold at the same time. I had pulled my hand away when we were crossing the road earlier, because I couldn't explain the fear, shock, excitement, and all the other feelings I felt when he held my hand then.

But this time, I let him.