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“Just some complications. It will be smoothened over soon.”
There was something rather enthralling about seeing Charlie commit to a relationship when he had been so dismissive during his younger years, swirling through dates in the blink of an eye and ending every one of them before any feelings were formed—at least, that was how he had described it, just wanting the physical aspects.
I get love from the family and companionship with my best friend,he had explained when one of his male cousins, Billy Bennett, teased him about it. Ironic since
Billy had been a playboy once, too.I don’t need anything else.
But Hayley was different, striking him blind and hooking him in, a beautiful, popular wonder who was just as charmed by him. Whenever Daria had accompanied him to university and hung out with some friends, she witnessed how they became the talk of the town and inseparable, along with gossip of Daria’s place in his life and Hayley’s dislike for her. Eventually, Daria got the picture and stopped visiting his school, limiting their meetups to here until that took a halt, too.
“I hope it works out,” she said, keeping her tone light.
She could tell he was brooding but didn’t nudge him to talk about it, perhaps not ready to hear about their problems, either. Instead, she sniffed the night breeze, face turned up to the sky where moonlight touched her eyelids.
“Daria?”
“Hmm?”
“Why do you want it to work out?”
“Because you seem happy with her. And I want you happy, Charlie, more than anything in the world.”
Silence.
“What about you? What makes you happy?”
Her happiness lay elsewhere—and what she had in her pocket was a good starting point. She tucked that secret in, not ready for the questions bound to bombard her when he found out. She pursed her lips.
“Chocolates. The smell of flowers. Hearing you scream like a maniac when confronted with cockroaches and bray like a donkey when you fall out of a tree.”
“Hey, that was one time,” he grumbled.
“Which one?”
“The braying.” He huffed. “You can’t blame me for cockroaches, though. Have you seen those bastards? They are the stuff made of nightmares.”
“It’s a good thing I can’t see them, then.”
“You are so weird, Daria.”
She was sure the man was grinning and for a second, Daria imagined what that grin would look like. Would it be lopsided? Would it be as goofy as he was sometimes or as charming as he sounded sometimes? She had an inkling that he had the looks if he had managed to snag the most popular girls over the years. She knew he had gotten taller and had filled out, but didn’t make a habit of feeling him up to see.
She knew he had red hair. She didn’t know what color his eyes were, but it must not be that remarkable if nobody commented on it much. Maybe it was the red hair that dazzled all those girls.Or a winning smile.
“Red hair.”
“What?”
“Sorry. I just had a vision of your hair and wondered why people never call you carrot top.”
“Carrots are orange, Daria.” There was a horrified pause. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“I know.” Solemnly, she nodded. “I used to see things, remember? Just partially. Sometimes the shapes come back. But that was a long time ago. Who knows if carrots are still orange?”
He didn’t respond to her humor this time, so she held the rest of the jokes back.
“Daria?”
“What?”
