All About Cherry

Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

     A t l a s   C h e r r y  paced around his room frantically. His palms sweating profusely, phone resting in one of them as he tried his best to come up with an answer to Daxton's sudden invitation.

     Under different, less chaotic, circumstances Atlas would have probably said yes without a single ounce of hesitation, however, things were far from serene. Atlas was slightly buzzed from the liquid courage he gulped down right before calling Daxton. He looked like a complete and total wreck, disheveled in the worst ways possible, it would have been a miracle if he could have freshened up enough to look presentable in time. "Err... did I lose you?" Daxton's hesitant voice came flooding from the speaker.

     "No, no, I'm sorry, zoned out for a moment." Cherry stumbled over his words, too many thoughts rampaging in his brain at once. All he had to do was decline. Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. "Yeah, man, I don't think me coming over tonight is the best idea. Uhm, yeah, sorry." He scratched the back of his neck.

      "Oh come on, it's not that big of a deal, Atlas. I know it's kind of sudden and all, but I got a perfectly good pot of delicious stew almost ready to serve and nobody to share it with. It would be a crime not to share it." Daxton's persuasive drawl radiated from the speaker and Atlas' stomach grumbled involuntarily, he'd forgotten the last time he had a hot meal.

     Atlas felt himself slipping up a little, he was a total sucker for food. "I don't know..."

     "It's going to be fun, man, maybe we can put on a movie or something and get to know each other later, I mean new friendships and all, right? Got to start somewhere, so why not do it over a nice dinner?" 

     Cherry let out a loud sigh and cleared his throat. "Did you secretly major in persuasion? Fine." He shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't believe he had given in that easily, but it wasn't the first time he had done so with Daxton Holloway, and he wasn't sure if it would be the last.

     Daxton chuckled in response. "I assure you I did not major in persuasion, however, I do happen to know that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I—uh, not that I'm going for your heart, yeah whatever, I'll stop rambling." He paused for a moment, while his words made odd suspicions fester in Atlas' mind. "I'll text you the address to my condo, let me know when you'll get here. I'd come and pick you up myself, but I don't want to leave the pots unattended." Daxton continued apologetically as if he hadn't said anything before.

     As soon as the line went dead and his phone buzzed with a new message from Daxton's number, Atlas jumped into a panicked frenzy. "Shit." He hissed as he stubbed his toe against his bedframe. 

     Atlas didn't have all the time in the world to get ready, so he dashed into his bathroom without any more lingering, stripped off his clothes at lightning speed, and hopped in the shower.

     He recoiled at the water pressure and the initial burst of ice-cold water, but persevered and opened the same, cheap, obnoxiously lemony body wash and scrunched his nose at the smell. Some five minutes later, he was drying himself off and staring at the disaster in the mirror, the cold tiles of his bathroom floor against his feet made him shudder. Atlas figured that he didn't have enough time to shave properly, so he decided to run with the few days worth of stubble he'd been sporting. Besides if he had tried to shave right then and there, he would have most likely cut himself out of the sheer stress he was enduring, his hands were shaking for whatever reason.