Maybe... One Day

“People are left with their own assumptions when you don’t try to prove them wrong,” he said softly, his voice unwavering.

She watched him while he stared at the fire crackling before them. There was a distant look in his eyes while he pressed his thumbs together and leaned forward onto his knees. Something about the way his lips frowned told her he was speaking from experience.

Hungry to know more, she readjusted his warm, brown sweater that smelt like cinnamon around her shoulders and inclined towards him. “You seem to enjoy watching them portray you as someone you are not though.”

He swallowed, suddenly aware of the inch of space between their shoulders and moistened his lips nervously.

“Their assumptions display the state of their hearts and in return, I get to see who they are and who they really think I am.”

“All the more reason to prove them wrong.”

He looked at her then with his brown Asian eyes filled with empathy, causing her to suddenly recognize how beautiful they were.

“I choose not give myself the burdened responsibility of proving or disapproving one’s decided version of who I am. That isn’t my role,” he looked away, discomfort on the edge of his tone.

She definitely touched a sensitive spot.

“Your role?” she asked, her brows furrowing behind her circle-rimmed glasses.

He hummed in response.

“If it’s not your role to defend yourself, then whose is it?”

“God’s.”

He heard her scoff and glanced at her questionably. She was tucking the loose strands of her black hair behind her ears with a look of indifference. “You’ve spoken like a true Christian.”

“Does that make you uncomfortable?”

She paused, her brown orbs circling the bustling partygoers surrounding the bond-fire. “Everything about this place makes me uncomfortable,” she replied, looking around at the students mingling and laughing with each other.

He sighed, following the trail of her eyes. Their classmates seemed overwhelmed with happiness, drawn from the alcoholic beverages in their hands. They seemed so carefree, a feeling he’s yet to experience.

He could feel a sense of loss beyond her dull tone however and his empathy grew. Getting dumped just as the school year was ending must be quite inconvenient for one’s summer holiday.

Not that he would know anything about relationships.

His eyes shifted to the group of males standing the furthest from everyone, singling out the antagonist of this beautiful girl’s heart break story. He was bundled in the group of his friends, drinking and chortling, with his hand swung around a female sophomore, no doubt with unholy intentions.

“Just one more day until they all disappear from your sight,” he encouraged softly, “Then you can heal.”

“There’s nothing to heal from,” she mumbled, looking at her dirty white converse that was digging into the dirt. A few specks landed on his old Vans but it didn’t seem to bother him.

“I find that oddly hard to believe.”

She scoffed. “Just because you’re with someone...doesn’t mean you were with them.”

He couldn’t read her eyes to try and discern whether she was being truthful about that. It should matter, considering how beautiful he found her to be under the glowing hue of the fire. It should matter because of the tingling desire welling inside him the longer they spoke. It should matter because he is probably stupid for encouraging the blossom of feelings occurring inside him.

Give me strength, Lord.

“You seemed to have already emotionally detached yourself,” he cleared his throat and began to fiddle with his thumbs. A distraction was needed.

She lifted her head and placed her chin into her palms, her head turned to him. He suddenly seemed so innocent in her eyes, so angelic.

How have I never noticed him before?

He wore a dark brown beanie, no doubt to match the jacket he lent her and his hair, despite his Asian heritage, was curly as it swept across his forehead, barely brushing his small eyes. He was handsome, she knew it but being attracted to his innocent features seemed so unreal and she wondered if her feelings were deceiving her. His orbs were peaceful but were obviously brimming with curiosity and she figured then, he had more questions for her than he was letting on.

“There was nothing to detach myself from either way,” she finally answered, “Curt was nothing but a fling.”

Her eyes narrowed behind her deliberate words. He didn’t cringe, he didn’t throw her a look of disgust, he simply nodded with his small, full lips slightly parted.

“No judgement from the Christian?” she bumped his shoulder playfully.

“We’re not supposed to,” he replied slowly.

“Interesting.”

“Doesn’t mean I necessarily agree with your actions though,” he met her eyes then, his heart slightly racing with a fear that his words might scare her. “You’re worth more than a fling in my eyes.”

A scoff left her lips involuntarily. She was in disbelief, not sure how to accept such a kind compliment coated with correction. The intensity of his gaze made her skin prickled and she drew his sweater around her tighter, her eyes darting away from him.

“You’re very kind.”

“Are you that cold?” he asked simultaneously, his brows furrowing with concern.

Not anymore. She thought.

Sitting by the fireside with him like this, with him saying those words, made her feel a warmth she wasn’t used to. “I’m fine,” she reassured, and he nodded.

The crackling of the fire and the socialization of the students filled the few seconds of silence between them. To her, being ignored by everyone else felt odd, but that’s only because she got so used to the popularity that her fling afforded her.

Him on the other hand, she glanced at him curiously, he didn’t seem to mind being alone. “How about you?”

He met her eyes. “What about me?”

“One more day and you too will get a break from school.”

He folded his lips while pondering her point. There wasn’t much he was expecting to happen during his summer holiday. Maybe he would visit China with his family or begin working at his father’s company. Either way, it didn’t seem like a big deal.

“I doubt it’ll be as eventful compared to everyone else here,” he shrugged.

“Your girlfriend must do a terrible job at entertaining you,” she joked, and he coughed reactively.

She grinned, noticing how his ears turned pink and he began to fiddle with the styled rips on his jeans’ pants. He was nervous.

“Girlfriend?” he chuckled. He saw right through her; she was meddling for information and the thought made him nervous. What was her motive?

“When you find her let me know, I’ll scold her myself.”

Hmm, single. She smiled.

She wasn’t surprised but was still curious about what may have caused him to withhold from being in a relationship. Either way, he wasn’t close enough for her to ask such a question. For now, he was simply good company.

Damage girls like her, didn’t deserve the innocent anyway. Her thoughts made her eyes find Curt’s across the fire. He returned his gaze with a devilish smirk, loaded with secrets of their crossfires, and a sickening feeling rose in her stomach, and she looked away from him. There was a time the Irish boy made her knees tremble, but his personality was beyond disgusting. She could only assume the many rumours he was still spreading about her.

“I can see that you want revenge,” he said gently.

“And I’ll get it.”

“It’s not worth it.”

“It’s defamation,” she met his eyes again. “I’ll get my revenge somehow.”

He knew she was serious and there probably wasn’t any way to change her mind about it, so he didn’t pry. “At least I see you, for you.”

She looked taken-back, maybe touched too. He could tell from the brief separation of her pink lips and the widening of her chocolate-coloured eyes. It was fleeting, but he saw her collect her emotions, just before her nonchalance returned.

“You shouldn’t say those kinds of things so casually,” she murmured.

“This party may be casual, but I think our conversation is far from it...this is the first time you’ve spoken to me in three years,” he smiled gently, and her heart fluttered at the sight of how handsome he is.

How innocent.

“I hope you didn’t think I was being invasive by demanding a space here,” she said, gesturing to the log they shared.

“Well, you did take my sweater.”

“Hey!”

He laughed and she felt her lips pulled back on their own, chuckling along with him. She couldn’t recall the last time her smile came so easily.

“How have we never spoken to each other before?” she asked.

His smile faltered, while he met her eyes slowly. The tension of his nervousness eased a bit, while he felt himself getting lost in her gaze. He wanted to tell her how much he’d noticed her. He wanted her to know how much he wished he could’ve approached her before. He wished he could express how she glows each time the sun hits’ her caramel skin. He wanted her to know that he would’ve treated her better than Curt, or Marcus.

While he stared, she knew he was pondering the question. There was a look in his eyes that made her melt in the moment, blossoming a desire mixed with regret she wasn’t expecting to experience. She wanted to know him. She wished she knew him.

“Everything happens at the right time,” he finally said.

“Oddly, it doesn’t feel like the perfect time to know someone.”

Summer break.

Regret slapped him in the chest, and he straightened his posture, and braced against the log, looking towards the glittering sky. She noticed then that he must’ve been incredibly taller than her, with shoulders wide enough to prove he stayed physically active.

Her attraction grew.

“Is it weird to hint that this doesn’t feel like the type of conversation that will simply end after tonight?”

She smirked, almost bitterly. “I don’t know, maybe you’ve crossed a territory that you might regret one day.”

“I highly doubt that.”

His response was a whisper, and even though he didn’t meet her eyes, she was hooked on the peacefulness washing over his face while he stared at the heavens above them. A longing possessed her heart then, threatening to burst forth hopeful desires. The urge to keep talking to him was beginning to feel overwhelming and the urge to make use of the summer holiday while doing so felt dangerous.

He felt her eyes on him, seemingly calling him to look at her but willed himself to stayed composed. All the years of self-control would break away from him if have gave in and she secretly grew frustrated at his resilience. She wanted him to jump at the opportunity, just like other guys have.

But he didn’t.

He was different.

“It’s midnight baby!” someone hollered from the crowd and everyone around them began cheering wildly. Only a few hours left to go.

The distraction broke her gaze and when she looked away, he finally lowered his head, releasing a breath of relief. Noticing everyone celebrating around her made her feel like a foreigner. In two months time, she wondered if they’d feel like foreigners with each other.

When she glanced at him again, he was typing something in Mandarin on his phone, with a disappointed expression.

“Doesn’t look like good news.”

He swallowed thickly with regret. “My uh...my sister is drunk at a party. Her friend just asked me to come and get her...” he looked at her, “...Downtown.”

If he was going to leave The Edge to go downtown, there’s no way he would drive back to stay with her, which meant the end of their conversation... for two months. She pulled up her emotions quickly.

Don’t dwell on it.

“So, this is it huh?” she forced a chuckle, slowly removing his sweater.

He shook his head. “Keep it. The temperature might fall...unless you’re planning to leave now...”

He was inviting her, and she knew it, but it would be too much. After all, he kept her company throughout the night, it would only cross the line. “I’ll walk you to your car,” she said, standing and he swallowed.

That was her answer.

They walked slowly, barely brushing their arms against each other while approaching the small lot of vehicles. His mind was running wild with different scenarios of how to ask for her number, but he felt hesitant. Wouldn’t that invite complications? Wouldn’t that make him a rebound?

She chewed on her lips when they paused beside a black van and he pressed the car keys, unlocking the doors. The parking area was darker than where they gathered for the party, but she was slightly grateful that he wouldn’t see the look of regret across her face.

At that moment, she verified her assumption. He was tall, possibly six feet, forcing her to tilt her head backwards in order to find his eyes. “I’m not quite sure what to say,” he chuckled nervously.

So innocent.

“Drive safe,” she replied softly, patting his upper arm.

She was making it easy, and he knew it. He wished she didn’t, but it wasn’t his place to expect anything different. “I hope you’ll return feeling much better in September.”

“If I do decide to return,” she joked.

The thought suddenly scared him.

“You still have my jacket, so you have to.”

He cringed. That was corny but it was the fastest excuse he could pull. Regardless, she released a small laugh and he exhaled in relief.

Ask for her number...ask for her number...ask for her number...

“See ya,” she said, stepping backward and he gripped his keys tightly. Everything in him was fighting to call her back but the words never left his mouth and the further she walked away, the more he felt his hope falling.

“Maybe... one day,” he whispered to himself.

When she heard his van drove off behind her, she stopped in her tracks and glanced at it disappearing down the road. It seemed like he was carrying away the strands of hope she had built just a few minutes ago with him.

She thought then, when was the last time, she had a conversation that felt so innocent and warm? His sweater over her shoulders was the only proof she had of their exchange and suddenly it felt like the purest thing she had ever touched.

Her appetite to return to the bonfire dimmed, so she instead walked towards her rundown silver Sudan close by the curb of the lot. Her thoughts of going home earlier than she planned seemed unwelcoming. Her mother is probably still awake, ready to bark at her for staying out late again.

A sigh escaped her lips while she shoved her hands into his sweater’s pockets. The scent of cinnamon rose from the soft material, and she began to wonder what kind of life he had at home. To be able to rush to his sister’s rescue without a second thought... it was so loving.

Was that what genuine love looked like?

The sudden roar of a vehicle speeding up the hill storm through her thoughts then and she pushed off her car and shielded her eyes at the van which stopped abruptly in the road, the headlights blaring brightly.

The shadow of a male jumped out and she watched him rushed towards her.

Her heartbeat accelerated.

Could it be...

“You’re still here,” he was breathing heavily as if he was either tremendously scared or nervous. His beanie was removed, and his curly hair was a mess while displaying the imprints of his fingers that were once raking through it.

He came back.

Why?

“Why’d you-”

“It didn’t feel right just, leaving like that,” he admitted, still breathless and she swallowed. Her shattered hope suddenly felt mended, and she forced herself not to believe it.

The surprise written across her face told him, he caught her off-guard. She was not expecting this and neither did he, but the adrenaline was pumping through him, and it was too late to turn back now. He stepped closer, and lifted her right hand, turning over the palm.

His long fingers felt warm, but his touch was so light and so gentle. It felt foreign and stimulated sparks along her whole hand.

He was writing something with a marker, and when he finished, he rubbed the back of her hand gently and finally released it. She slowly glanced down at the digits now imprinted in her palm.

Butterflies swarmed her whole body.

He began to walk backward to his van then, a wide grin across his face. “Let’s make this summer eventful,” he suggested, before turning and disappearing into his van.

She stood stunned, watching him drive away, her heart hammering into her chest with a rhythm she wasn’t used to. At that moment she had a thought that not only scared her but also mesmerized her.

She wondered then; maybe genuine love was the overwhelming sense of security you feel when a stranger you admire returned and write his number in your palm.

Maybe genuine love smelt like cinnamon and spices of all kinds.

Maybe just maybe...she can have a taste of it?

And for that, she smiled.