"Today, however can change things for better or worse. The outcome depends on you."
When a marriage fails the residue trickles down to everyone in the family. Sixteen-year-old Daya Nicole Johnston must fight to understand what is happening in her li...
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I arrived back with our purchase of food to an abandoned table. My orbs gazed around the four walls before I located him at the drink machine and emitted a sigh of relief. I marched right past him, and I didn't even notice. It made me think of all the times I must have done that in the past. He appeared to be filling our drinks because we overlooked it the initial time.
Banks strode over and sat our two drinks on the table. Then, the two of us were standing over the booth waiting to see who would sit down first. "You should," we recited at the same time like two dorks. He slid in the booth first, making the decision so we wouldn't continue getting awkward stares from Meryl. I followed suit and commenced cutting my waffle with a knife and fork.
"Daya, you don't know this about me but I have severe window seat trauma. May I get my spot back, please?" He batted his eyelashes and it was about the cutest thing I had ever seen.
"Thy whom sittest down first gets thy window seat," I said with an old-timey accent. "So, we're facing fears together," my natural voice came back loaded with hilarity.
"I recognize that we haven't known each other for long, but it feels like I've spent an eternity with you by my side," I clasped his knee as he padded his face with hash browns.
"I mean it in an endearing way, not in an, I want us to be buried together, type of way," I proceeded when he didn't respond.
Next, it was his turn to almost choke on his food, "I assumed you didn't mean it like that." He gulped, "I feel the same. I don't feel this way about everyone I meet. We just connected." Banks said the last sentence with his mouth full again. "I forget I don't know that much about you," he burped.
"Yeah, I like learning about you though," I stated before I took a swig of his coffee.
It seared down my throat and had a bitter aftertaste, "Is that what being a man tastes like?"
He stroked my shoulder, "Being a man is slightly crunchier." I tittered over the throbbing feeling in my throat.
"I wish we could have met sooner," I held his hand and being myself felt so natural. In preceding months, I was lonely and isolated. Most of it was my own fault, but Banks... he made everything better.
"Well, we could've but you," his finger connected with my nose for a second, "were very much off-limits."
"What does that mean?" I asked with my mind perilously crowded with confusion.
"Your brother... you know I was friends with him for a little while. During the time when I was going on a bit of a rampage. He told me to stay the fuck away from you. I think those were his exact words actually," his eyes were looking down at our hands.
"He had no right!" I spoke above my inside voice achieving the privilege of being judged by the older customers.
He sniffed roughly, "You dodged a bullet, really. Plus, if we would have met back then we wouldn't have this today."
