Marked with Silence

‘Dinner and a movie. Dinner and a movie. Dinner…and a movie,’ the words kept repeating in my head on the car ride home that Friday. I had given the date a lot of thought, and done my fair amount of research. Dylan had told me the top date places that Cadbury students went to—Pointer Theater, the mall, and Jo Fay’s Restaurant. I made sure to avoid all three of those places. I knew that Sapphira wouldn’t enjoy fellow classmates being there; staring and whispering about us. So I had to find nice places that were relatively unpopular amongst our school.

Unfortunately though, no matter where I decided to take her, my mom would be driving. Sapphira technically could have been able to drive us (according to Delaware law), but for obvious reasons she had stopped practicing and wasn't certified to drive on her own . I, on the other hand, knew how to drive, but had decided to avoid the hassle of the different driving laws in different countries and states, and just wait until I was eighteen to get a license. I just hoped that my mom and Sapphira would get along much better this time around.

I had decided to go to a movie theater a couple cities over, followed by a restaurant in the same area, which Dylan said had good food. I wanted the night to be as good as I could possibly make it.

For the first time in almost a month I didn’t walk Sapphira home after school. I had my mom pick me up, and from the moment I was buckled into the car I began mentally sifting through my closet and debating what to wear.

Laying out the options when I got home, I decided on a neon blue and black striped, v-neck sweater with black jeans and the black Chuck Taylors I had had since the eighth grade. Once I got dressed I picked the brush up off of my dresser and stood in front of the floor length mirror I hung in the corner. I had just begun brushing my hair when my brother Danny came in.

“Why are you dressed up?”

I glanced over to see him leaning against the door frame, “I have a date with my girlfriend, remember?”

“Oh, right. Your giiiirlfriend,” he tried to tease. “What was her name again?”

“Sapphira,” I replied.

Danny wrinkled his nose, “That’s a weird name.”

“But kinda cool, don’t ya think?”

He ignored my question, “Is she sexy?”

I sighed. Danny knew too much for his age, which made him even more immature than his fellow eight-year-olds. He was always asking inappropriate questions that often objectified women, or made comments that referenced sex or penises. He thought it was cool; it just made him lose all of his childhood cuteness.

Nonetheless, I still replied, “Incredibly. But you really shouldn’t describe girls in those terms.”

When I got my bangs just right I set the brush down, grabbed my cell phone, wallet, and jacket, and then headed downstairs. Danny followed me.

“Do I get to meet her?” He asked just as we reached the bottom of the staircase.

“Maybe, eventually,” I replied as I made my way to the kitchen, where my mom was beginning dinner.

“’Maybe, eventually?’” My mom stopped cutting carrots to look at me.

I was confused, “Yeah…”

“That is not going to fly. Invite her to dinner tomorrow. Her aunt and uncle too.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s your first girlfriend in three years; I think your family deserves to meet her.”

“Mom, we’ve only been going out for like, a week. It’s too soon,” I tried to convince her.

“Nonsense.”

“We’re going to scare her off,” I pleaded.

She laughed, “And what about us is so scary?”

I began without even having to think of reasons, “Dad is in himself a very terrifying-looking person. Danny is a little troll-monster, and you are going to question them to death and pass judgment.”

“I won’t take you on this date unless you promise to invite them to dinner when we drop Sapphira back off,” she said with a smirk on her face.

“You’re evil, you know that,” I said as I passed her on my way to the garage.

“Mother knows best,” she called to me as she grabbed the car keys.


The car ride to the theater wasn’t as unpleasant as I imagined it would be. Sapphira was more open, and my mom was less nosy. The twenty-five minute car ride was filled with awkward laughs and transparent conversation—which was more than I could have asked for.

When my mom stopped by the curb of the theater, I quickly got out to open the door for Sapphira. She looked beautiful. I was pretty sure that the clothes she was wearing were actually her own; grey skinny jeans with a magenta-colored top that was loose around her shoulders, but tight at the waist. She smelled amazing too.

I waited until my mom pulled away to take her hand.

“So what movie do you want to see?”

“I don’t even know what’s out,” she admitted.

We looked at the movie posters.

“Maybe something funny,” she suggested.

I shrugged and paid for two tickets for a movie that I knew was stupid from previews that I had seen on television. I really wanted to see something scary; not because of stooping down to the level that Sapphira would get scared and want me to hold her, but because I thoroughly enjoyed the rush. But I didn’t want to risk it being too much for her to handle.

“Thanks for picking a movie theater out of town,” she said sincerely as we stood in line for popcorn.

“No biggie.”

“You’re really thoughtful,” she said with an observant face.

I placed a hand over my chest and faking offense asked, “You’re just noticing?”

Sapphira shook her head at my playfulness. “You care more than other guys,” she said earnestly.

“I can’t help it.”

I was slightly shocked that I chose a serious answer.

She released her grasp on my hand and placed her arm around my waist. “I like that,” she said. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.

I liked that we were already so comfortable with each other. Even thought we hadn’t gotten past kissing it wouldn’t have been awkward if I leaned down to kiss her forehead, or if she reached up to stroke my cheek. I’d bet that the people around us would have guessed that we had been going out for longer than our one week. We already acted as if we were in a long-term thing. And I hoped that we eventually would be.

“So are you the type of boyfriend that won’t let his girlfriend pay for anything?” She asked as we moved up to second in line.

“Not at all.”

She looked up at me and grinned, “Good. Now I won’t feel bad for getting Sour Patch Kids when I pay.”

“Next customer please,” the teenage girl behind the registered beckoned.

“A medium popcorn and a…lemonade?” I looked down to Sapphira and she nodded in approval. “And a box of Sour Patch Kids, please.”

“Will that be all?”

“Yes.”

“Your total is fifteen dollars and forty cents.”

The girl gave me a rude look as she took the twenty dollar bill Sapphira got out.

“She thinks I’m a bad boyfriend,” I whispered when the girl went to get our order.

Sapphira smirked, “Because you let me pay.”

The girl returned with our food and we took them before heading to the theater.

“My mom told me to always pay unless the girl offers. You offered, so I let you pay.”

“Why’d your mom say that?”

“She said that it was better to let the girl pay if she wanted because it would ruin the mood otherwise. She said that always paying puts the girl in a position where she orders things that she doesn’t really want just because they’re cheaper, and that the girl might feel guilty that the boy is spending so much money. It’s better to do what the girl wants than keep up annoying chivalry.”

She thought the concept over, “That’s pretty good reasoning.”

We found seats near the back and tried to resist finishing all the popcorn before the movie started. We had the elbow rest up so that she could lean her head against me—our arms were still around each other. The movie was actually quite funny, but Sapphira didn’t laugh very much, and when she did it was only for a quick second. Instead, she just smiled when a funny part played. It suited her though.

Sapphira didn’t do PDA, even in a dark theater. She thought it was too attention grabbing, and I knew that wasn’t one of the things she wanted. But I guessed I was content with just being close. I should have remembered that I was lucky just for that.


We sat on the same side of the booth at the restaurant, our position the same as it was in the theater. The middle-aged waitress looked at us with a face that was just dying to say ‘Awwww, how cute!’

“How old were you when you got your first kiss?” I asked as the waitress left us with our drinks.

“Eleven,” she answered. “You?”

“Eleven? Are you serious?”

She nodded.

“I was fourteen when I got mine.”

“With Melinda.”

She wasn’t guessing.

“Yeah. It was just before I asked her out. She was the one that kissed me. My hands were full of her books and then I said something that she thought was cute. So she grabbed my face with both her hands and kissed me.”

She smiled at my story before saying, “I dared him to.”

My eyebrows rose, “That’s a pretty bold move.”

She shrugged, “I was different then.”

The food came. I ordered a hamburger and she got chicken pasta. She was a very slow eater. Sapphira liked to push the food around, and ate in small bites. She only ate about half of it.

I told my Mom to pick us up around eleven. The movie wasn’t as long as I had anticipated, so Sapphira and I walked around for a little while.

“This is a really pretty city,” I praised.

We were on the sidewalk just in front of the shopping center. Cars whizzed by us at fifty miles per hour as we were surrounded by the colorful lights of the stores on one side, and the shiny glass of the buildings on the other.

“Have you always lived in Delaware?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to college here?”

We hadn’t talked about that yet.

“No. I plan on getting out of the state.

“Where do you want to go?”

“I hope California. Florida, if I have too.”

My stomach dropped, there were so many places to go, so much distance that could separate us.

“What about you?” She asked quietly. I knew she didn’t like the conversation, but we each were curious to know. Moving meant leaving people—missing people. “Are you even going to college in America?”

“Um, I don’t know,” I admitted.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she said right after I had finished speaking.

I rubbed her shoulder, “Let’s not worry about this now.”

My phone started vibrating. It was a text from my mom.

“My mom is fifteen minutes away; we should start walking back to the theater.”

We turned around and walked in silence.

When we were back at the curb she took the arm that was around her shoulder and wrapped it around her waist as she turned her back to me. I instinctively brought up my other arm to do the same. She really liked to be held.

“I had a good time,” she tried to raise our spirits.

“Me too,” I smiled.

Her arms were resting on top of mine, and she was drawing swirls on my cold hands.

“We can make out when you walk me inside the apartment building,” she grinned.

I laughed quite loudly; embarrassed, but also very amused.

My mom came, and I couldn’t wait to drop Sapphira off. Maybe it was the horny, teenage boy part of me. Sapphira was a great kisser. The past week, we’d frequently interrupt our game of cards or LIFE to kiss. We haven’t gotten past that, but I guessed tonight we’d up that just a little bit further.

The ride to her apartment was filled with nosy questions from my mom. She wanted to know what movie we watched, the food we ate, what we talked about. She was practically humiliating, but Sapphira handled it better than I thought she would.

I opened the car door before it even made the complete stop outside of Sapphira’s apartment building. I took her hand and helped her out as I called to my mom that I’d be right back. We practically jogged to the elevator. After going nine stories up, she pulled me towards the stairwell, where her lips crashed on mine as she pushed me against the wall until most of her weight was leaning on me. The stairwell door hadn’t even completely closed. One hand in my hair, and the other on my cheek, she and I kissed deeper than we ever had before. I cupped the back of her neck to add more pressure, as my other hand rubbed circles at the small of her back. She didn’t hold anything back.

I wondered if I should say those words. But when we pulled away and I looked in her brown eyes, I knew that it would only ruin the moment.

“My mom wants you and your aunt and uncle to come to dinner tomorrow,” I said instead, slightly out of breath.

She made a sour face, “I’m guessing there’s no way out of this.”

I shook my head.

“Then you better tell them about the car accident.”

My brow furrowed in confusion. “It’s not my place Sapphira. I, I can’t tell them that. It’s…it’s too personal.”

Our bodies still pressed together, she laid a hand on my side, “I know they’re gonna ask. How could they not?” She looked down for a moment. “I can’t tell the story without breaking down,” she said slowly and with emphasis.

“Look, let’s just make sure the conversation doesn’t get there,” I suggested. “We’ll just change the subject.”

Sapphira wasn’t fully satisfied, but she agreed anyway.

We shared a short kiss before making our way towards her apartment. She got out her key and started calling for her aunt and uncle as she was opening the door.

“Auntie? Uncle? Jerome has somethi-“

Sapphria suddenly stopped, frozen in place with her hand on the knob.

I peered over her shoulder to find three people sitting around the television. The third person was a boy.