Pink {H.S.}

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

I sit at the table of the small coffee shop, sipping my drink as I wait. I check my phone quickly, and a feeling of dread hits me when I realize that it's twenty minutes later than when Delilah said she would meet me. I'm about to accept that she's changed her mind, and doesn't want to see if we have anything between us, when I see her enter the shop out of the corner of my eye.

“Delilah!” I call, standing up and drawing her attention towards me... along with everyone else’s in the coffee shop. I blush, sitting back down and regretting my outburst. The others in the coffee shop go back to whatever they were doing as Delilah waves at me and orders her drink then walks over and sitts across the table from me. 

“I am so sorry that I’m late” she begins, emphasizing the so. “My sister had a crisis and then I left a little late and the traffic over was horrible-“

“It’s fine. Don’t worry!” I cut her off with a smile. “I’m just glad you made it.”

“Well you didn’t think I would stand you up did you?” she asks, a smile paying on her lips. I blush, embarrassed that I actually did. The barista calls out her name then, saving me from having to answer that question. She goes and gets her drink before coming back and sitting down, shrugging off her coat after she’s placed her drink on the table.

We both take small sips of our drinks, sitting in a comfortable silence. It was weird. On most of the dates I’d had –minus the ones with Amanda- the silences were uncomfortable, awkward even. But she felt different. It was like I was with Amanda again. And I honestly didn’t know how I felt about that.

“So…” she broke the silence, tapping her finger lightly against her cup.

“So…” I repeat. “How long have you worked at the school?”

“Two years. This is a stupid question, but have I heard your name before? I feel like I have but I can’t think of where”

“Um” I begin, thinking. “Have you read the book “Quiet”? Or “Stupid, Crazy, Messy”?”

“Yeah, why?” she asks before realization dawns on her face. “Shut up. That’s not you is it?”

I nod, a feeling of happiness washing over me that she knows my books. “So what else do I not know about you?” she asks, a smile playing on her lips.

“Uh, my favorite colour is green. It’s a dark secret, but I think you should know before we get into anything serious” I joke, earning a smile from her. “But what about you? Any skeletons in your closet?”

“Hmm, none that I can think of.” She says, tapping her chin in mock thought. “Wait! When I was in my first year of college I broke a keg stand record.” She says, leaning back and smiling, obviously proud of her achievement.

“That’s a pretty kick-ass secret” I smile, taking a sip of my coffee. ”But I think I have a better one.”

“Oh really?” she says, taking a swing of her drink. “And what would that be?”

“Okay, I’ll tell you, but you can’t look at me any differently after I do. Promise?” I ask

“Promise.” She says, smiling.

I breath out, preparing to tell the story. “It’s not exactly a nice secret though. Or a funny one. Or really a total secret. It’s  more of a story actually. Actually, we were talking about secrets. I just won’t tell it. No big deal” I say, chickening out and leaning back in my chair instead, blushing.

“No, tell me.” She demands, leaning forward and grabbing my hand. “I want to hear it. Even if it’s not a secret”

I nod, trying to figure out how to tell it. “Well, okay. Okay. Okay.”

“Harry stop stalling. Just tell me please”

“Fine. Well, when I was in the ninth grade, Amanda –who was my first wife-, first transferred to our high school. And of course all the guys thought she was fit, and so I kinda thought, how can I even compare to a rugby jock? Wait, before I keep going I should tell you something. In high school, I wasn’t terribly unpopular, but I wasn’t terribly popular either. I was just kinda in the middle. Anyway, back on track. She was in my classes, and her last name was Smith –I know, some people actually have that as a last name- and so she was beside me in most of my classes. And I didn’t know her really well, but I did know that she wasn’t a stupid girl, and she realized that most guys just wanted to shag her and then leave her.

And so I realized that if I wanted her, I would have to show her that I didn’t want to be like the other guys hitting on her. And then I realized what I had that the jocks didn’t.”

“Your amazing ability to sing and dance?” she asks, her amusement at her joke clear in her voice.

“Hey, you don’t know. Maybe I could be like Troy Bolten or something”

“Did you just reference High School Musical on a date with a twenty-three year old?”

“Yes I did and no, I don’t regret it. Anyway, back to the story. No, it was not my ability to sing and dance, mostly because I don’t have any. But I used my writing skills, and since she lived just down the street from me, I set up this kinda, scavenger hunt with clues that lead to the next on and so forth, and then the last one lead to me, and by then it was getting dark, but I had filled a clearing in the woods with candles –I know, very unsafe- and then when she got to me, I told her to put the clues together and turn the paper over, and on the back of each clue I had written something I liked about her –for example one I think was her laugh or something along those lines- and then the very last one said something like –will you be my girlfriend”

“Wow.”

“I know”

“For someone so good at writing, you tell horrible stories” she said, giggling at the end. “But that was really sweet. “My tenth grade boyfriend just came up to me in the hall and asked me to go to the cinema with him. And then spent the whole time trying to feel me up.” She makes a face at the end, which makes me forget my hurt at her insulting my story-telling.

“So what else is there that In don’t know about you? You know, other than the fact that you like green and being incredibly adorable?” she asks, leaning her elbows on the table and resting her chin in her hands.

“Lots of stuff. What do you want to know?”

“Anything. What’s your favourite animal?”

“Giraffes. Easy. Yours?”

“Lions. Favourite food?”

“Tacos. Yours?”

“Pasta”

“You never told me your favourite colour by the way”

“Easy.” She smiled “pink.”

*~*~*~*

Woah, almost three full pages on word. I’m just scratching two pages most times. Anyway, don’t expect an update soon as my midterms are coming up.

Edited: 30/7