Daisy.

It was Rigby’s, a little shop with neon red fluorescent signs on the door and loud music. He yelled out a greeting as we sat near the window. A fry cook came to the small little window in the wall, laughing as he spotted us.

“How’s it hangin’, man?” Dash laughed, yelling something back. He was so damn easy going and happy and just cheerful. I didn’t understand how he could just be so simple and open and free. It didn’t make any sense. His laughter was infectious, and I soon found myself giggling behind a menu, gnawing on my lip.

“So, what’s new?” he asked, setting his menu down.

“Uh… well, um, I might be going on a trip soon. Maybe,” I shrugged indifferently. “I don’t know yet.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. The possibilities are endless.” A waiter came to the table and he ordered a beer—he always drank beer—and I asked for a Coke. “I don’t even know if I really even want to go anywhere anyway. I’m kind of comfortable right now, you know?”

“It’s a free trip, Daisy,” he laughed. “You could go wherever you want.”

“I know, but most of the time, I’m just doing stuff that they want me to do. Like one year, I covered a bunch of fashion shows in Europe for the summer. I mean, it was fun, kind of, because I got to meet really cool people that I don’t think I would have met otherwise, but it’s not something I would have done if it were up to me.”

The waiter came back and he ordered a burger—‘with all the fixings, please’—cue blush because he’s too cute—and I asked for the veggie burger.

“What would you have done?”

“I would have gone to Italy and…” I sighed dreamily, propping my head up with my hand as I looked at him. “I would have gone to Venice for a couple of days and just, you know, relaxed and taken a gondola everywhere or something, you know? Then I’d go to London and just do something crazy. Maybe I’d go to Paris, too, if I felt like being artsy and eating really expensive food. I’d go to Amsterdam and Athens and Berlin and just—” I sighed. “I’d see things, you’d know? I’d explore. I’d have fun. I’d do things I want to do. But I’d be alone, and that’s not really any fun.” I sighed, sipping my drink. I shook my head. “So, anyway, onto more interesting news, what’s new with you?”

“You’re interesting.”

“Not really,” I laughed.

“Well, I think you are, so there.” I flushed, embarrassed. It wasn’t that I couldn’t accept a compliment, but it was just kind of hard to believe sometimes. Let’s just say I wasn’t raised in the most loving atmosphere, so whenever people told me something about me that they liked, I usually denied it because I just didn’t really believe it. “What’s new? Uh… I was actually at an interview in Tucson today. I mean, I know I don’t graduate until May, but, I mean, I might as well start looking, right? It can’t hurt.”

“Yeah, definitely!” I smiled. “Do you think you got it?”

“I don’t know. I won’t know for a couple of weeks.”

“How’d the interview go?”

“Fine, but I—I mean, I don’t know if I really want to move all the way to Tucson. It’s almost two hours away and I don’t think I can drive there every day. I liked the school. Kind of. I don’t know.” He shrugged. “What do you think I should do?”

“Whatever makes you happy, Dash. If you’re happy, I’m happy too.” I smiled at him. “And it’s not over yet, right? I mean, there are a bunch of schools around here! I’m sure you’ll find something.”

The waiter came and he grinned at him, laughing as he walked away. He was so friendly and kind and good, period. It made me think about what Marina said, about how maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to like someone (like Dash, maybe) after all. What was so wrong about it?

I could think of a bunch of reasons why right off the bat, but forgot them all when he grinned at me, cheeky and sweet and wonderful, making my chest feel tight and heart go into overdrive as I returned it.

Saturday was spent avoiding everyone’s calls and texts, including—especially including—Dash’s, mostly because I was still trying to figure out what it all meant. If it meant anything, which it probably didn’t. I was probably just blowing it all out of proportion again.

The next morning, I slept in because it was Sunday. Sundays were usually lazy days spent in bed. I woke up sometime around eleven, showered, dressed, and fell on my bed, feeling restless. I went out for a run, but I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering to thoughts that had been bugging me all weekend. I came to a slow stop, folding my hands behind my head as I regained my breath. I spent the jog back home freaking out, mostly because it starts dawning on me that maybe Marina was right.

Maybe I really did like Dash.

I didn’t want to think about Dash or Marina or anyone else. I don’t want to be alone, but that’s what I am and that’s what I’ll always be—alone, and no one can change that. Not Marina and her funny, albeit, I guess, well-intentioned, attempts at prodding me out of my shell. Not Yasmín and her sage bits of advice over tea uptown. Not Chloe and her secret plots with Camilla to ‘update my look’—whatever that was supposed to mean—and not Phoebe with her little giggles and nudges and casual bumps in Dash’s direction.

Dash.

I sighed, pushing the door open with tired hands. I locked it and kicked off my sneakers, heading to the bathroom for a shower. After I was done, I threw on some underwear and a t-shirt and set about making myself something to eat.

Dash.

It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair.

I hadn’t even known him for more than two weeks and he was already tripping me up. He was just dangerous, but not in the scary bad sort of way. More in the kind of way that threatened to upset the delicate balance I made up for myself.

I was okay. My entire recovery revolved around convincing myself that I was okay—and I was.

Or at least I thought I was, until I met him. My idea of okay had to be completely warped, because whenever I was with him I felt different, safe, kind of, but not in a dull, boring way. Whatever it was, I knew that whatever I felt before didn’t hold a candle to what I felt with him.

Which wasn’t right because he was a stranger who didn’t even know me—but didn’t he, kind of? He knew some things, but he didn’t know the reasons behind them, and I wasn’t going to let him, either. But of course, that’s what he’d want and I wouldn’t be able to give him that and it’d just be a complete and total mess. That shouldn’t have surprised me because my whole life was just one big tangled mess that I couldn’t seem to claw my way out of. I didn’t want to make him a part of it, but it felt inevitable and I couldn’t stop it.

I felt out of control.

That boy was going to be the death of me.

I picked at my food, not as hungry as I thought I was anymore.

I fell asleep in the afternoon heat, lulled by thoughts of the way his pink lips said my name and how his mossy green eyes shined.

I didn’t wake up until later on in the evening, roused by my phone vibrating on the floor annoyingly. I felt around blindly until I found it, turning onto my back as I picked it up, reading the screen. My pulse became erratic, fingers jittery and face flushed at the name, a small smile creeping up on my face.

Movies at my place tonight? – Dash.

I shouldn’t have felt so excited and happy and scared and nervous, but I did and that was what bothered me the most—the fact that he could get me so worked up without even trying to. I didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if he did try. But what if he had been trying all along and I just hadn’t noticed?

I typed back a slow response, telling him I’d meet him there in about an hour. I whipped up some cookies and let them bake as I got ready. I tried to think of other things as I showered and dressed, but it was kind of hard to not think about him. I mean, we were watching a movie. Together. At his place.

I didn’t know who would be there, probably Marina and Sunny, maybe Phoebe and some other people too. It wasn’t going to be anything fancy, and this was probably just another one of his secret ways of trying to ‘fix’ me.

What if Dash just wanted to hang out? I laughed cheaply, rolling my eyes as I walked into the kitchen to take the cookies out of the oven. I put them in a green bowl with a clear plastic lid, grabbed my bag, and then went on my way, heading into the refreshingly drizzly afternoon. I looked up at the sky, seeing the clouds gathering in the distance. Hopefully it wouldn’t rain too badly and I’d be home if it did.

It turned out that Dash only lived ten minutes away on foot, which wasn’t too bad. The walk didn’t feel very long, mostly because I spent most of it stressing out about Dash and what Marina said. Was she right? Was that why he made me so nervously happy all the time? I forced myself not to think about it as I walked down his street, and instead thought of other things.

Like his smile and his laugh and his hands and his lips and his face and him.

It was starting to get out of hand.

I pressed the doorbell timidly, and it wasn’t long before he was there, messy hair and blush inducing grin and all.

“Come in.”

I walked past him, looking around at the cozy living room. It felt homey and warm, which was a welcome change to my place, cold and unnerving. We stood awkwardly, mostly because I couldn’t figure out what to say to him after I figured out how I felt. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he asked me if I wanted take out or not, and with a casual shrug, I said sure. I sat down as he looked for his phone. I took a seat on the soft couch, setting the container on the coffee table in front of me.

I struggled to think of something to say before he came back, wanting the awkwardness to go away. But what could I say? I wanted to ask Marina for advice, but I was almost sure it’d involve jumping on him and confessing how I felt—which probably wouldn’t ever happen—ever. As I heard him pottering about in the kitchen, I wondered about where everyone else was, like Sunny and Marina and all his other friends. It dawned on me that maybe we were just watching the movie.

Together.

Alone.

Oh, god. I tried not to panic, picking at the stitching on the flannel on my lap. This was bad. Very, very, very bad. Well, not so much bad as unexpected, but aren’t they the same thing, really? What did it mean? Why were we watching this by ourselves? Why? I had a feeling Marina might have been behind it if that was the case. But maybe he just wanted to hang out. With me.

Just me.

Maybe.

People did that all the time and there wasn’t any reason why I should have been so nervous and upset. It wasn’t like he was going to do anything to me anyway and I had nothing to be scared of because he was pretty much harmless and he made me feel safe so it was okay and I was okay and it was going to be okay.

Right?

I listened to the rain outside to try to relax, sighing softly as I heard the storm beating against the window. I peeked outside, only to see dark grey clouds and peeks of lightning here and there. I frowned, listening to some thunder in the distance. Maybe it’d stop before I went home.

He poked his head in the living room. “Want something to drink?”

I nodded quickly, tugging on my bottom lip. I had to relax. I was going to mess everything up—like I usually did—and I didn’t want to. It wasn’t a big deal and I’d be fine. I stilled my shaky hands, tucking them underneath my legs to keep them from pulling everything apart.

He sat down next to me with an easy smile, handing me some soda. I took some timid sips and set it back down, sighing quietly.

“Are you okay, Daisy?” I nodded quickly, gulping a little as my fingers itched to pull at the tender wounds on my arms. “Hey, look at me.” I met his worried eyes shyly, watching as his lips turned down into a tiny frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“I’m fine.”

“’Cause you look pretty nervous to me,” he said, propping his head up. I reached over for the container of cookies, opening it quickly as I held it out to him.

“Want some?”

“Why do you keep changing the subject?”

“I’m not, I’m just—I—” I stopped short. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately, that’s all.” I smiled a little, laughing humorlessly. “It’s okay.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do you?” I countered.

“I asked you first.”

“It’s not a big deal,” I explained. “It’s really quite alright.” I wanted to ask him why he wanted to know so badly but bit my tongue, trying to think of what I could say that would make him drop it. I couldn’t think of anything. “So, how are you?”

“Worried about you,” he replied.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine!” I smiled brightly, hoping that he’d buy it. I flinched when the lights flickered, thunder crashing and booming outside. “Really, though, how are you?”

“I just told you.”

“Why?” I asked with a soft frown. There was a quick rapping at the door. “Takeout’s here!” I exclaimed, hoping that would be enough to distract him and even make him forget why he was so worried in the first place. I wanted to be mad, but I couldn’t bring myself to be, not even in the slightest. I mean, when was the last time someone was genuinely worried about me? When? And now that someone actually was, I was fighting it. But that was only because it was Dash and I didn’t think it was really all that necessary. I just wanted him to be interested in me, not my problems.

He shuffled to the door, paid the man, and shut the door, a big brown bag in his hands.

“I hope Chinese is okay.” I shrugged, thanking him as he handed me a box and a small pack of chopsticks. “There are spoons and forks in the bag too, just in case you want those instead.”

We ate in a mild silence, making small talk about the food in our containers passingly. I almost felt bad—why was I pushing him away if that was the exact thing I was trying to avoid doing? Why? Why did I always do this? I was going to end up alone if I kept it up, I just knew it. The lights flickered again. We looked up.

“Think the lights are going to go out?” I asked quietly, chewing on a noodle.

“They might,” he answered softly, looking back down at his food.

After another short silence, I glanced over at him, about to say something as the lights flickered and went out completely, plunging us into darkness. I gasped loudly and jumped a little, almost dropping my food.

“Daisy?”

“Y-Yeah?”

“I’m gonna go see if I can find some flashlights, okay?”

“Good idea,” I squeaked, trying not to sound so scared. He groaned as he stood up, putting his things on the table. I set mine down too, blindly feeling around for the table. My eyes struggled to adjust to lack of light, squinting a little. I was starting to grow restless after a couple of minutes, wondering if he got hurt or something. Looking around, I was met with more lack of light and the sounds of the storm outside.

I stood up, reaching out blindly in an attempt to steady myself. I inched towards the wall, huffing as I tried not to hit myself with anything.

“Dash?”

Silence was my answer. I cursed quietly underneath my breath, squinting. Was I in the kitchen? I eased my way into the dark room, hands searching for something I could hold on to and guide myself by. I bumped into a chair and stubbed my toe, groaning.

“Ow!” I exclaimed, hissing loudly. I bumped into him and he steadied me with his arm, wrapping it around my waist.

“Daisy?” He flicked on the flashlight, laughing a little. “What happened?”

“I-I was looking for you, and I j-just—ow—” I pouted, groaning as I leaned forward. “Kinda hit myself on something,” I admitted lamely.

“Poor thing,” he laughed, moving my hair out of my face. He cupped my face, running a thumb over my cheek, which bloomed into a bright pink. “Want a bandage or something?”

“N-No,” I huffed, biting my lip. “I’m n-not bleeding.”

“Are you scared?” I shook my head, trying to keep still. He wasn’t going to hurt me and I was going to be okay and I didn’t have to be afraid, because there was nothing to fear. He was harmless. “’Cause you’re shaking like a leaf,” he said softly. “What’s wrong? Really?”

“Nothing, I-I just—” I stopped short, breath hitching as he leaned his forehead against mine. “You make me so nervous.”

“But why?”

“’Cause I don’t know why you look at me like that and whenever I look at you it’s like—like you see right through me.”

“It’s ‘cause you’re beautiful.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

“Why not? You are.” He smiled sweetly and I tried to return it, but it’s hard to agree with something you don’t believe in. “Daisy?”

“Yeah?”

“I wanna try something, okay?” I nodded, closing my eyes in a last ditch attempt to relax.

And then he’s kissing me, all sweet and shy and gentle and wonderful and amazing and perfect.