Smoke

CHAPTER 11

Dawson and I have been sitting in the café for over two hours, since Charlie cut me a little early due to the low foot traffic volume and the fact that I finished more than my days work; so I would've been standing around doing nothing the rest of the night. 

Dawson had come prepared for his proposition, printing out a rather large list of girl baby names that start with the letter A, confident that it would seal the deal and he would finally get his date. He clearly had this planned from the moment he walked into the shop today, convinced I would finally cave in to him and give him a chance. "Let's have some fun," he smiled wickedly, wiggling his eyebrows at me. 

Little does he know, my name isn't on that monstrosity of a list. I took a peek at the paper when he went to the restroom before beginning his quest for such a small piece of information about me. I chose not to let him know that the list was a waste of time and him being none the wiser, dove straight in.

We had posted up in a couple of loungers, sitting across from each other, and are now currently in an intense stare down as he lists name after name in alphabetical order, only to be denied immediately thereafter. 

I smugly lean back in my seat and prop my feet up on the coffee table in front of me in a mocking manner, implying to him that I needed to get comfy for this since we are going to be here for a little while.

So far we have made it up to the 'Al's' and he is miserably failing. So to entertain myself I look up different ways and languages to tell him that he is wrong. 

He was right...this is a fun game. 

He started off strong and hopeful at first, I give him that, but the further we get on the list, the more frustrated he becomes. His knee is bouncing so hard that I am sure I can feel the vibrations through the floor and his frown lines become evident between his brows that are tightly pulled together in the middle. 

The list of names that had previously failed him, are scattered all over the table between us. 

"Alice?"

"No."

"It's...Alexis, right?

"Nein," I stifle a fake yawn with the back of my hand and check my imaginary watch, just to light a fire in his ass.

"f**k. Allie s***h Allison?"

"Uh uh."

"Amy?"

"Ne."

"Anna...it has got to be Anna?"

"Nope," I pop the P obnoxiously and smirk.

He drops the pages on the table exaggeratedly, "Son of a b***h! There are a million girl names that start with an A." He huffs, leaning down to cradle his head in both of his hands with his elbows propped on both of his knees, seemingly defeated. He was looking down at the ground for a minute or so, his eyes eventually start traveling the ground toward my feet. Then out of nowhere he jolts upright, his hazel eyes large as he's pointing down to my bag animatedly. 

"AUSTYN?!" His screams echo throughout the entire shop, turning every single head in the wake of his epiphany. 

How the fuck...?

My eyes grow wide and they slowly follow in the direction to which his finger is pointing. My bag is basically showcasing with huge, flashing neon signs - my copy of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

I fling myself back into the chair, pissed that I basically handed him my damn name on a silver f*****g platter.

"f*****g s**t! Is that it? That's it isn't it?" He is doing all but flipping the damn tables at this point, unable to contain his excitement; receiving a few "SHHHs" in the process.

I just sit here, shaking my head in disbelief, picking at the tear in the leather as I watch him. The excitement coloring his face with beautiful, barely there wrinkles at the outer corners of his eyes and accentuating those dimples that make me weak at the knees.  

He grabs the small stack of paper full of names and flips to the last page, looking it over before saying, "You knew didn't you?" My head c*****g to the side in confusion is answer enough before he continues on. "You knew your name wasn't on here, and you were going to let me go through the entire thing. Weren't you?"

I tap my nose in response, insinuating that he had hit the nail on the head with his assumption. I try to bite back a laugh, but it is too powerful and tears its way through my lips, earning an exasperated look from Dawson. 

"That...that was just cruel. I was about ready to have a stroke and you are laughing," he breathes out the last word in a high-pitched tone, placing his hand on his chest over his heart; pretending to be heartbroken by my actions.

"When did I ever say that I was nice?" I tease him, propping my elbows onto my legs and fold my hands together to hold my head up as I continue, "Want to know something I find even funnier? Well it's funny to me anyway."

His lips form a straight line and narrows his eyes at me monetarily before he asks, "Why do I have a feeling that I am not going to find it as amusing as you?"

"Because you won't," I assure him bluntly, laying my cheek into the palm of my hand with a smug smile pulling at the corners of my lips.

He groans, taking a seat, and motions his hand out in front of himself; urging me to continue, "Do tell." 

His hands find the mess of papers in front of him, mindlessly wadding them into a very tight ball one by one before taking a shot at the trash bin sitting at a nearby wall and making it on his first try.

I bite my bottom lip to contain my ever growing smile, leaning forward towards him to whisper, "If you would've kissed me like that, and made that spectacular, award-winning speech to me prior to your proposition...I would have given you my name willingly." When I finish my confession, I casually lean back into my chair, awaiting his reply.

As Dawson absorbs my admission, he starts to nod lazily while tapping his fingers on his armrest, as if he is trying to decipher all of the thoughts running through his head. As he sits there, it seems he finally finds his response when a crooked smile spreads over his previous expression. Leaning forward, mimicking my previous movements, he then whispers back, "It was a pretty phenomenal kiss, wasn't it?" 

I meet him back in the middle and retort, "If our future date goes well, then maybe...just maybe, I'll let it happen again."

"That sounds like a challenge, Austyn."

"Maybe it is," I say with a wink.

He grabs another paper ball to make a second shot; perfectly sinking yet another into the bin. His head turns back to face me, beaming, "Challenge accepted." He sinks his remaining two shots then adds, "So tell me...why the name Austyn?" 

"There are a couple reasons behind it really. One, my mom never wanted me to be limited in life with a girl's name on my resume. My mom has never been one to follow along with traditional rules or views. She likes originality. The second reason-" I pause and pull out my book, "This is my mom's favorite novel. When she married my biological father whose last name is Bennett, she believed the universe was giving her some epic sign, and named me after the author as if it were a part of some grand design. Although Austyn is spelt with a 'yn' instead of an 'en' at the end."

Dawson rubs his hand down his cheek and smiles. "I like your mom already and the story behind her decision makes me love your name even more than I did before."

Tilting my head, "You like that I have a guy's name?"

"I like that it's authentic, just like you." His hand rakes through his hair and adds, "You are unlike anyone I have ever met in my whole life. So it's only fitting you have a name to match."

I unintentionally let out a scoff, "You've never come across a girl with an attitude problem, who throws herself at you on the street before? I find that unlikely."

"You did throw yourself at me, didn't you?" He chuckles, smirking snobbishly which in turn causes me to let out a small gasp before smacking at his hands playfully. 

"Pretentious much?" I shake my head at his remark as I watch his face fall into a serious expression. 

He stares at me with his look unwavering, "You really don't get it do you? If only you could see yourself through the eyes of others."

I clear my throat as he sits there staring at me. His gaze causing me to become overwhelmingly self-conscious. I break the contact and divert my eyes down to my anxious fingers as they find their way back to the tear in the leather seat; successfully making the hole bigger in the process. I pick at the underlying cushion for a few minutes in silence before he breaks me from my absent-minded thoughts. 

"So...about our date..."

***

After agreeing to a date this coming weekend so that I can get through my first week of classes and work, I finally made it back to the apartment. It was already after dark. I hadn't realized how long Dawson and I were talking until looking outside. 

Lily is sitting on the couch with a carton of ice-cream, watching a horror movie. I then realize I hadn't seen her since she left for her date with frat guy yesterday and she never ended up coming home afterwards. On top of that, I had been gone all day today, completely forgetting to ask about how it went. 

I walk over to the fridge and open the door, peering inside before settling on a bottle of Winter White wine. I pop the cork and take a swig and then grab another spoon before finding a seat next to Lily on the sofa. Considering we both despise doing dishes, it is an unspoken rule that we just drink straight out of the bottle. 

She snatches the wine from my hands and takes a few large gulps, handing it back over when she's finished; taking another bite of her rocky road.

"Is this melodramatic episode any indicator of how your date went yesterday?" I take a small bite of ice cream and then wash it down with another sip of wine, waiting for her response. 

"He...it's just...it was going so well, and then today I woke up in his room...naked...and he was gone." She takes another bite, and continues with her mouth full, "I haven't heard from him since."

"Well shit." I take one last swig before handing her the rest of the bottle, "Here, you need this more than I do."

She holds the bottle to her lips and leans her head back, closing her eyes as the contents are dumped down her throat. I wince at the scene going on in front of me, not even knowing what to say to my friend to make her feel better. Talking about relationships or dating really isn't my strong suit. My usual responses always revolve around, but are not limited to telling people to 'move on' or 'f**k that guy'. Both of which, I know wouldn't help her right now so I choose to stay quiet instead. 

"Change the subject and take my phone so I don't drunk dial that asshat," she growls, roughly placing her phone in my hands. "How did your first day of classes go?"

"It wasn't too bad. Classes were just introductory speeches and reviewing the semester syllabus," pausing, I almost forgot about her AWOL date being in my class. "Actually, I had class with Avery and your douchebag date. They sat right next to me."

I have yet to even tell her about meeting Dawson the other night, so informing her of that exact same class being taught by his older brother seems like too much to get into right at the moment. 

"Of course he was." Lily opened her mouth, about to say something else when her phone started ringing, signaling an incoming call. Her head shot toward me, realizing I still had ahold of her device. Well I did, until it is snatched out of my hand faster than I can even blink. A squeal erupts from Lily before she announces excitedly, "It's Zach!"

I watch her retreating form shrink as she disappears into her room to answer. I can hear her giggle through her closed door, insinuating her anger has officially vanished. 

That didn't last long.

Suddenly overwhelmed by exhaustion due to being sleep deprived, I slip out of my clothes and pull on an oversized band tee-shirt that covers to just below my underwear. After pulling my hair up into a messy top-knot, I slip under my fluffy down comforter and finally drift off into a deep, undisturbed sleep.