Hair-Dye

She was pouring sugar into her latte when he entered the coffee shop. They didn’t even see each other as he sat on the other end of the café, and it probably would’ve stayed the same if the raven-haired waitress hadn’t spilled black coffee all over his table.
With a small smile, Belle stood up and walked over to the scene, never looking at the man. She picked up the old towel from her hands and slowly patted the table, watching the towel absorb the dark brown liquid.
“Forgive her,” she said, never facing the man. “Valerie panics under pressure. Your screams aren’t exactly soothing.”
She finished her task, handing the soaked towel to Valerie and recommending her to bring a dry one. Slow and hesitant, the waitress finally walked away, mumbling apologies to herself. Belle couldn’t help but smile at the view, but soon a displeased expression took over her face as the man restarted his screaming.
He stopped midsentence when he saw her face, his dark chocolate eyes conveying his genuine surprise.
“Belle?”
The girl’s jaw dropped, but she still managed a weak smile.
“Noah.”

“You’re ginger, Bells. How did that happen?”
After the initial shock, they had moved to Belle’s table and ordered a new coffee for him. And there they were, talking like nothing ever happened.
“This, dear Noah,” Belle pointed at her fiery hair, a grin on her lips, “is just one of the many transformations you’ve been missing out on. I’ve been a blonde, you know.”
The brunet man laughed, wrinkles forming around his eyes. Soon, his laughter faded into a melancholic smile. “I did miss out on a lot, didn’t I?”
Belle shrugged.
“It doesn’t matter. What have you been up to?”
“Not much. I ended up taking Architecture in college.”
“That’s great,” Belle sighed.
Architecture had been Noah’s dream ever since she could remember. Well, apart from sports, but that was the typical fifteen-year-old dream. She always knew he’d make it.
“Yeah. I haven’t found a job yet, but I will soon. Hopefully.”
“I know you will.”
They rested in a comfortable silence, eyeing each other to assimilate the changes.
“How about you, ginger version of Belle? Ever made it to Venice?”
“Actually, I got a scholarship for college there. I’m here on vacation.”
“That’s awesome. What else?”
Belle hesitated.
“I graduated in Psychology and found a job as a profiler. I’m no one important yet, but just you wait. Besides, at least it’s a job.”
“Yet?”
“Well yes, Noah, or don’t you expect me to become the best profiler in the whole wide universe?”
Noah smirked, but there was no malice in his lips.
“Maybe just the Earth.”
“Maybe,” she agreed.

Belle rested her head on Noah’s chest, her fingertips drawing shapeless designs on his naked skin. She still remembered their prom, even if it had been eight years. She remembered because she tried to tell him.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her large curls were lazily falling on her back, unwilling to remain in the perfect shape they had been meant to. But it was okay; she liked it better that way. Taking a deep breath, she paced around the room looking for a guy dressed in black.
She finally spotted him, cutting cake with his homecoming queen. She approached him and waited for him to see her.
“Hey, Bells. Want a piece of cake?”
“Sure,” she smiled. “I know you’re kind of busy right now, but can you look for me when you’re done? I need to talk to you.”
“No problem,” he assured, handing her a piece of cake.

Belle sighed and felt Noah’s hand slowly stroking her hair. She wondered if he had heard her.

When he finally came to find her, she was on the center of the dance floor. The music was loud; she would have asked him to step outside but, as usual, she didn’t have the guts to.
The brunette repeated the message because he hadn’t heard it the first time.
“Thank you. And I’m sorry if I did anything... whatever,” she blurted out, quickly lowering her head. “I need to go outside, see you.”

She remembered taking her heels off and crying in the dark, where she would be seen if someone actually looked for her. But they didn’t; he didn’t. The next time they saw each other was ten days after prom; she couldn’t remember the last words she spoke to him.
And now, eight years later, there she was. Lying down next to him, both of them naked and covered in dry sweat. Slowly, Belle realized she had screwed up.
“I have a boyfriend, you know.”
Noah didn’t seem taken aback as he replied, “I have a girlfriend too. Remember Maggie, from our class back in year nine?”
Belle couldn’t help laughing.
“Maggie, as in the childish idiotic soccer-addict? You used to hate her!”
The boy joined her, his laughter deeper than she remembered.
“She turned out to be a nice girl. The years did her good. I like her.”
“Yes, well,” Belle started as she shifted on his chest, “I’m not one to speak. My boyfriend lives in a farm.”
“Weren’t you the girl who dreamed of living in the city and never going back to the countryside?”
“I was.”
Noah chuckled.
“What’s his name?”
“Damiano.”
“That sounds so gay, Bells,” Noah stated, yet again laughing. She joined him, like she used to. Even when it wasn’t even funny; if he laughed, she laughed. Sometimes, if she laughed, he would laugh too.
“Don’t be a jerk! He’s a nice guy. Plus, he has more muscles than you, you skinny little bastard,” she joked.
“Okay, no need for details, B.”
They stood in a comfortable silence for a few minutes.
“I wish we would work, you know,” Belle finally said. “We would’ve. But we’ve changed so much. I mean... you’re dating a sports addict; I’m dating a farm boy – whom I happen to love, by the way. You wear suits and ties now – and like I always said, you look stunning – and I’m not even a brunette anymore. Everything is different.”
Noah sighed.
“Yeah.” He licked his mouth, biting on his lower lip as he pondered if he should say what he wanted to tell her ever since that morning in the café. He decided against it, but by then the words were already spilling out, “You know, I used to think that one day we’d meet again and we’d get together.”
Belle held her breath, because she used to think the same.
“But you’re right. It’s all different. You’ve got balls now. In a metaphorical sense.”
They both laughed.

“Hey Noah?”
“Yeah?”
“I never had the guts to say it, but I really loved you.”
“I loved you too, Belle.”

Belle was gazing at the street when he walked into the balcony. He took her hat and put it over his head, pecking her on the lips.
“Buongiono.”
“Good morning, love.”
She stood up to let him sit in the small chair and sat on his lap.
“You know, I really like this apartment. Why the city?” he asked, in his soft Italian accent.
Belle shrugged. “I always loved Venice.”
They stared into each other’s eyes. That’s when Belle understood that she had never loved Noah like she loved Damiano. She was too young and naïve. And maybe, just maybe, this was the real deal. Love with a capital L. The one thing she always wanted but never thought she’d have.
“Dark blonde looks good on you,” he said, twirling a lock of her freshly-dyed hair between his fingers.
That afternoon, Belle realized Noah had never seen her blonde. She also finally recognized that she had never been completely over him; not up until now. As so, she deserved some closure. No more chocolate brown hair to fall for him and no more fiery red hair to fall back in his arms.
“Yeah, I think I’ll keep it.”