Maroon Socks

16: FOOSBALL AND CIGARETTES

016: foosball and cigarettes

DAY 6.85

Calvin Hallman comes jogging down the stairs into the living room. He looks around, clapping his hands twice. "Come on, we have to go," he says, walking to the kitchen counter and swiping up a chocolate sandwich from a box. He bites into it, looking at everyone get up and put on their coats and shoes.

Calvin stares at Brooke the longest. She's wearing her boot heels and is well dressed in a pair of light boot-cut jeans a white t-shirt she's tucked in.  She adjusts the fitting of her jeans at her waist, before feeling someone staring at her. Looking up, she catches Calvin's eyes, who quickly looks away.

Arthur's tapping his foot against the floor, as he leans against the front door's frame, waiting for everyone. Dakota emerges from her room, dressed in a pair of dark skinny jeans and a navy blue sweater with a graphic design of a desert. Dakota's tucked it well into her jeans and shrugs on a mid-length brown, leather coat. The stands of hair at the sides of her face have been braided crowned around the sides of her head and pinned at the back.  She looks up from her gaze on the floor and gives Arthur a tight smile. She brushes past him to wear a pair of long brown shoes. Zipping them up, she looks up to meet Arthur's gaze. Unknowingly, she looks back. 

There is one thing racing through Arthur's mind: Dakota. It's the way she held his hand earlier on today, the way she helped him come over her fear, hell, even the way she practically undressed him. Everything just comes rushing back to him as his eyes bore into her green orbs.

Dakota, who's in some kind of dreamland and fantasy, stands up, walking directly towards Arthur. Stepping mere centimetres before him, she whispers, for only them to hear, "Want to walk with me?" As she asks, her hand trails down the length of his arm and closes around his hand. Arthur silently gasps, blinking his eyes rapidly.

There's no concrete answer running through his mind and he knows isn't thinking straight. But something in him doesn't turn down her offer. So, seconds later, Dakota is leading him out of the cottage and into the cold. Arthur doesn't say anything and Dakota, who's mind just snapped back to reality, is internally panicking. Her hand squeezes his hand constantly between pauses. She doesn't want to let go because she doesn't want him thinking that she doesn't like him — to her, it makes sense.

Arthur longs to say something — comment on how her hands feel or how they shouldn't be doing this. But he can't. His reasons are the same as Dakota. So, he holds onto the cold fingers touching his. He examines her painted nails and velvety skin, in order to help him forget about what's happening. Arthur doesn't register everyone else walking behind him. He doesn't hear the giggles from behind him and he doesn't hear the whispered words being passed. What he does hear is the ragged breathing from Dakota and the small words she's mumbling to herself. So, Arthur squeezes her hand, catching her attention almost immediately. And he holds both — her hand and attention — and looks into her eyes, with a unfamiliar emotion. No one of the two understand what it means. So, they walk ahead, with their eyes constantly looking at the other.

After what seems like seconds, all of them reach the karaoke bar. There's a woman and man standing on stage, singing into separate microphones, as different coloured lights form streaks around the room, disappearing within a second before re-appearing at the other end of the room. There are people sipping in drinks, snacking, and talking not too loudly. As they get deeper into the room, a series of applauds erupt to praise the duet singing mere seconds ago.

Arthur's hand suddenly feels cold. It then dawns him that it's because Dakota slipped off into the crowd and has left his hand unattended. He strictly tells himself he doesn't mind. And so he believes his own words.