Secret of The Night

The tiny bell at the top of the front door let out its signature ring and I turned my head, attracted by the chime. There he stood, in all his fine bad-boy glory. Ripped jeans and dressed in a tee that hugged his upper body in all the ways God intended. His hair was messy, but not that kind of messy that guys think looks hot when it actually just makes them look uncivilized and like they literally just rolled out of bed. This was different. The waves fell gently and the soft look was almost tangible. I blinked and those lips gathered into an infuriating little smirk, like he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on me. I hated being typical, but what could I do? The hormonal wave threatened to pull me under with the wave of pheromones that was currently overpowering me.

“Hey.” a brief jut of his chin was his only acknowledgement of me. I screamed. Inside. His jawline was at a perfect 90 degree angle. God, why is this boy so perfect. So goddammed freaking perfect. It annoyed the hell out of me but I for sure wasn’t about to tell him to kick the dust.

“Hi,” came a cool voice that only slightly quivered. It came from me, though my mind sure didn’t feel calm. “So what are we going to do today?”

My internal struggle must have been obvious because his smirk grew wider. He walked closer, and with each step I felt my heart racing faster and faster, thumping in my chest. One step. Two steps. Three. I could reach out and touch him, if I dared. Which I didn’t. I pressed my lips together to keep from screaming.

He stepped back, annoyed. Obviously he was used to getting his way with girls easier. I didn’t quite follow the norm. “Same thing I did with your friend, Marigold, was it? Movie, and then chill and hang around here,” he spread his left arm in a wide arc as he said the last few words and looked back at me. I nodded. He looked pleased at my obedience. “Let’s go then.”

And out the door we went, little bell tinkling in our wake. We walked side by side, but Yoru’s long strides kept him always a little bit ahead of me, and I had to speed up my pace to keep up. He rolled his eyes when he thought I wasn’t looking, in a Why do I have to deal with this? way.

Hey, you asked me, mister. Deal with it.

When we got to the theater on 51st Street, Yoru asked the mannequin-smiling lady behind the plastic wall for a list of movies we could watch. She pulled out a pamphlet and handed it into his pale, pale hands with the pale, pale fingers. He opened the paper up, and I walked over to his side and peered at the fine lettering.

“You choose,” Yoru, looking bored, handed the creased sheet to me. I was beginning to dislike this guy, but for some reason I was still wildly attracted to him. Whatever. I scanned the list, looking for one that might suit my weird horror/thriller/action/drama/psychological-themed preference.

“Can we watch this one?” I pointed, and held out the sheet for him to see. He leaned over, and laughed out loud. I saw two perfect rows of white teeth with incisors slightly extended unnaturally. Ok...... All the vampire horror movies I’ve watched in the past came back to me. But I shrugged it off as a birth mutation, convincing myself science would never let such a thing happen, and that all my fantasies were fake.

“Really?” He asked, incredulous. “Conjuring 2? Not Me Before You or something like that?” The fact that I chose a horror film over a girly romance story seemed to bowl him over with astonishment, hence the laugh. I smiled, although inside I groaned. Another guy who thinks every girl has to like romance. I actually happened to hate mushy stuff. “Ok then. Let’s see it.”

He walked over to the plastic smile lady behind the plastic wall in her little green booth made of plastic and arranged for the tickets. 2 for $26. I decided I’ll pay him back later.

So we watched our movie, me with a big bag on popcorn situated on my lap and a Coke in the cup holder, and him with nothing. It really wasn’t as scary as the reviews online made it out to be, to be honest, the first Conjuring movie was more gruesome than the 2nd. Maybe this time around the director felt sorry for the meek minded people sitting in the crowd. It didn’t faze me at all, since I watched this kind of stuff with Rhia all the time, but I glanced over at Yoru to see how he was doing. He stared with a kind of ferocity at the screen, and his face right now was scarier than what was happening in the movie. I subconsciously leaned a little away from him, so all I saw was the silhouette of his dark hair, darker than the rest of the surroundings.

When the credits rolled, I stood up with my popcorn bag rolled up, grabbed my Coke can, and blabbered to Yoru that I desperately needed to use the bathroom. I ran out of there fast and slammed the metal lock on the door closed as soon as I got into a stall. I don’t know what it was, but something felt off about this guy. Yeah, he was hot as f*ck, and Mari’s description about him yesterday seemed alright, but I just don’t know. He feels.... wrong. But I had no evidence or even any substantial theory to back me up, so I just gave up with my feeling; assumed it was just me never really having a cute boy look at me before.

We went to the cafe. Literally the same thing Mari had on her date yesterday. This was probably Yoru’s go-to date night spot. I ordered a small coffee and a blueberry muffin (which I recently read on Cosmopolitan was the hottest pastry thing to share on a date with your prospective boyfriend). He, as usual, got nothing. I was beginning to feel a little fat.

“So, Vivi, which school do you go to?” Yoru sat down and stared at me as if genuinely interested. I couldn’t hold out against those beautiful blue swirls.

“Mica High. What about you?”

“Oh, I don’t go to a public school. You’ve probably never even heard of mine. It’s private,” Yoru linked his hands around his head and gave me that play-boy grin. He sneezed. Once. Twice. Three times. Andddddddddd four times. That ruined his perfect cocky smirk well.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” I stood up and ran to the cash register to grab him some tissues.

“Yeah, it’s nothing, I’m quite alright. Just a tickle.” He waved the tissues away with his signature annoyed look on his face and I sat down again. God he looked gorgeous. He was busy studying the tissue with a weird look on his face so I just kept staring straight forward. At that mane of silky black hair that threw the light when he moved his head. At that aquiline nose, at those cheekbones that jutted out, at those lips that were so, so crimson red. At most of all, at those downcast eyes that couldn’t see me but I could see perfectly: the lashes dark as night that rimmed the twin blue moons floating symmetrically in a pale white orb.

“Hey, want to share this muffin? I’ll eat half and you eat half.” I cupped the muffin in my hand with the complementary wax paper and broke it. Pretty clean, if I do say so myself.

“No thanks. I don’t like muffins,” came the cool indifferent reply. Do you like anything, I wondered back as I stuffed the one half in the brown paper bag and bit into the bottom of the other half. I let the soft, fluffy batter with the sweet burst of fruit wash away the hurt at Yoru’s rejection of my muffin-sharing idea.

We talked a bit more, about school, about siblings (He didn’t have any), and about what we liked (He said he hates food in general and usually never chooses to eat in public). I learned some other weird stuff about him, like he lives in an orphanage and he has no family relations that he knows of.

“Well, then, do you have any friends?” If Mari was here, she would’ve smacked my arm and told me that was rude. But I just wanted a yes response out of this mysterious boy sitting in front of me.

He smiled an eerie little smile. Strange if you think about it. I just asked him if he had friends. “Yes. I do have friends. Many, many friends,”

Here’s where I would say “Oh my, well, aren’t you the popular kid?” with a teasing tone and maybe give him a sideways sexy look, but the way he answered kinda gave me goosebumps up my arms. I kept my mouth shut.

He got up and pushed his chair in. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, what? I haven’t finished my coffee. And where are we going?” I protested as he grabbed his coat from the back of the chair he was sitting on and lifted my paper bag for me. Yoru, uncaring of my protests, waved goodbye and the manager, who was now standing behind the register with a plastered smile on her face. “We’ll be outside,” He called. She waved soundlessly back.

Yoru grabbed my hand and dragged me outside. MY HAND. WE TOUCHED. My face flamed up. Again. We walked, hand in hand, to between the cafe and the next building. Honestly, with the feel of his skin against mine, I would have done anything for him at that moment.

Further and further we walked, until the shadows of the stores enveloped our two bodies and it was pure quiet all around.

As I switched back into reality when my toe bumped a rock and my uneasiness grew, I slowly asked, “Um. Yoru? I don’t feel right here. Can we walk back?”

“Yeah, hold up. It’ll just be a second. I want to tell you something,” He stopped us and twirled me around and held me, one hand on each shoulder. I stared wide at his eyes and bit my lower lip. His face had a dreamy look of passion on it. Did I want to be kissed on the first date? Normally, the answer was no, but I think I’ll make an exception for him.

“Vivi, I-” he broke off as I lifted a hand to his face, fingers brushing that hair I’ve wanted to feel since I met him. That’s when he grinned. “Guess what?”