Horns Sound

Together they walked to the corner in front of Lemonjellos to hail a cab. The ride was short and quiet. Brandon insisted on paying the fair and he walked her to her doorstep. Madeline’s hands fumbled nervously, not sure of what was going to happen. “We should do this again.” Brandon was the one to break the intimidating silence.

“Definitely.” Her voice cracked. Brandon handed her his sleek black iPhone. Her name was spelled out on the screen and underneath it a cursor blinked waiting for her to type in her phone number. She mechanically pecked each number and gave Brandon back his phone.

“I’ll call you.” His eye were exuberant and his tone was cheerful.

“You do that.” Madeline shot him a double barrel finger gun and quickly turned to shove her key in the door lock. Brandon walked down the steps slightly confused. Had he done something to offend her? Should he have kissed her right then and there? So many questions whirled through his mind as he walked down the stone steps of her doorway. He had almost forgotten common courtesy, with his hand on the cab’s door handle he turned around to watch Madeline still fumbling with her keys.

“Goodnight!” He called and entered the cab without looking away from her. The cabbie was ending an engrossing phone conversation, but she did respond-- so hope was not lost.

“Night!” She shouted and waved politely as the cab took off down the desolate street. “Fucking shit. Work you stupid fucking keys.” Her hand impatiently turned the key and the door opened with a click. She pushed the large maple door back into its frame with an unnecessary amount of force and it slammed closed. Leaving Madeline to storm up the stairs and reflect upon her dorky responses and regret every word she had spoken to Brandon.

She collapsed on her bed mumbling derogatory comments regarding herself into a plush white comforter. She fell asleep surrounded by tissues and a large Irish Wolfhound protectively laying over her calves.

An alarming and magical pinging jostled Madeline from a rough night’s sleep, the pillows and sheets strewn about the room attested to as much. Grogginess practically flew from her eyes as she reached for her phone. Once her contacts centered she was able to read the screen that was inches from her face. A small envelope was blinking in the upper left hand corner and the pad of her index finger swiped it. She didn’t recognize the number, but read the message. “Madeline, a new, exclusive, never before seen by the public eye coffee shop just opened up right near my place. It’s going to be crawling with thrift shop people. Would you be interested in going? -Brandon Timestamp 8:23am.” Before properly thinking out every word of her response that would have been oozing with charm, her fingers slid across the touchscreen keypad.

“This has got be a fucking joke. You do have any idea how early it is? It’s 8 in the morning on a Saturday. Please send this message again at a reasonable time, and you might get an appropriate response. Timestamp 8:25am.” Sent. Her phone vibrated when the message went through, but stayed silent for the rest of the morning. It wasn’t until she was folding her laundry that her phone finally made a noise. The same envelope was in the corner of the screen, but this time instead of random numbers that held no meaning, Brandon’s name popped up happily.

“Sorry about earlier. The coffee shop thing was a joke. Unless you liked it last time, in which case there actually is one down the street from my apartment. It’s kind of gross though, can’t imagine it’s been approved by the health department. I had something else in mind, I can swing by your place around seven today. Let me know if that’s good for you. -Brandon Timestamp 2:37pm.”

“How are you this fucking perfect?! Now I feel bad for yelling at you this morning!!” Madeline was screaming at the text message, like it was mocking her, taunting her with its telephonic wavelengths. She responded to his message promptly after collecting herself.

“I kind of had a rough night, didn’t mean to take it out on you this morning. I hope you can forgive me. But tonight sounds great, attire wise where should I be? -Madeline Timestamp 2:40pm.” She rested her slide phone on top of the dryer and continued folding laundry until the majestic ping sounded.

“Somewhat casual I guess. Whatever you’d wear to go out around town with friends. The world is your oyster. -Brandon Timestamp 2:45pm.” Madeline laughed through her nose and responded with another cliché.

“I’ll be there with bells on. -Madeline Timestamp 2:45pm.” She squealed into the freshly cleaned red cotton towel and got down to business. The double door, walk-in closet was lined floor to ceiling with clothes arranged by category and usage. Casually, she walked toward her collection of dresses. Something wet nudged her thigh and then leaned against her waiting to be patted.

“Evan,” Madeline rubbed behind the Irish Wolfhound’s ears, “how do you feel about a dress for tonight?” Evan sneezed, which she took as a no. “I like where your head's at buddy.” With her index finger and thumb pressed under her chin Madeline paced back and forth in her closet. “Shorts!” She exclaimed running to the side nearest the door, only to grab and throw a pair of navy blue shorts down on the ground. Evan squeezed past her to knock a hanger off the lower rack. Madeline picked up the tan and salmon striped cardigan he had carelessly dropped and upon further inspection, deemed it suitable for her date. “Who’s a smart puppy?” Evan cocked his head to the side while he sat on his haunches, “That’s right, it’s you.” He barked once and Madeline threw him a milkbone from the box on a closet shelf. With her dog contently munching on a treat, she padded into the bathroom.

Madeline emerged well over an hour later, her auburn waves and curls stuck out every which way, but it contrasted well with the rest of her relatively preppy, put-together look. A brown scapular hung around her neck. Three earring were in each ear: silver trinity knots for her faith, garnet studs for her birthday and Tiffany diamond studs from her since passed Grandmother. And the claddagh ring she had received for her sixteenth birthday from her father adorned her right ring finger, the crown pointed toward her. Her black gladiator sandals, even though obstructed by a hideous beige foot wrap, still looked pretty damn good. She checked herself in the full length mirror on the back of her bedroom door, and was just about to grab her silver, Coach, over the shoulder purse when a knock came on the door. “Just a second!” She shouted and quickly shoved her phone into her bag. Madeline ran to the foyer, but paused just before her hand touched the handle to calmly and maturely answer her gentleman caller.

The lock clicked, and the large panel of stained maple went back to reveal Brandon smiling, ear to ear, with a single sunflower held delicately in his worn hands. “You look beautiful.” His eyes sparkled with the light from the lamp hanging behind Madeline. “This is for you.” He handed her the sunflower and she smelled it kindly.

“Thank you, you remembered.” Her lips turned up at the small gesture.

“How could I forget? You picked every single petal off that poor flower at Lemonjellos.” Madeline’s cheeks flushed a bashful shade of red.

“Can I put this in water?” Her eyebrows went up innocently.

“Take it with.” Brandon grabbed her hand and with an impish grin, pulled her out onto the stoop, closing the door behind her. His fingers intertwined with hers. The heat from their palms was a reminder of both of their nervous excitement.

“Brandon,” he paused mid stride to look into her apologetic eyes, “I really am sorry about what I said this morning.”

“It’s fine, really. I do shit like that all the time, especially when I wake up on the wrong side of the bed.” He squeezed her hand encouragingly, and continued to lead her down the sidewalk. Occasionally, their shoulders would touch. Or when bikers passed Brandon went behind her and put a hand gently on her lower back. But the only constant contact they had was their hands. The walk was calm and pleasant, with the cool air rising from the earth to brush against their bare legs as they continued.

Madeline eyed Brandon curiously when they ended up at the Oak Street beach. “We’re going to the lake?” She questioned.

“We’re going to watch the sunset, and then get dinner near my place.” She shook her head quizzically. “What?”

“Nothing, this is really... sweet.” She looked up at him and tightened her grip on his hand. They walked down to the shore line where a white sheet had been laid on the sand. Brandon gestured toward the ground and held her hand until she was sitting comfortably. He let go for a second, to join her on the blanket. He saw her sitting next to him, the red in her hair highlighted by the sunlight, her amber eyes were gleaming and he went for it. His right arm snaked across her back and his hand rested on her shoulder. Madeline scooted closer to him and rested her head just under his shoulder. Her perfumed wafted up with the breeze of the lake, it was the sweet aroma of lilies combined with bright citrus. Brandon let his thumb trace circles on her upper arm as they watched the brilliant orange sun collide with shimmering blue-green water. She stole a sideways glance only to find he was looking at her. They both averted their gazes momentarily.

“Madeline?” His voice was barely a whisper. She turned her head to face him, the sun reflected in the corners of their eyes. Brandon tilted his head down, his nose on the opposite side on hers and kissed her softly on the lips, once, twice, thrice. His right hand went to cup the nape of her neck, and his left hand gripped at her thigh, just below her shorts. Madeline sat on the sheet, paralyzed while he pressed his mouth passionately against hers. He pulled back, noticing her lack of-- participation, and shifted awkwardly to give her space. Brandon’s mouth tried to form words, but failed at every attempt. A string of sentences would be a pathetic imposter for the proper description of the event that had transpired. She watched him try to search for something to say, but Madeline realized she was going to have to be the one to break the silence.

“That was my first kiss...”