I'd never seen so many teens at a non-sports school event up to then.
After meeting Dalia, I conveniently remembered to hit up my one friend at Trent. Dean was someone I played basketball with in middle school, and he was good enough to get a scholarship to come to the illustrious Trent High. We played neighborhood ball occasionally, but he was so tied up with school stuff these days that we hadn't linked in a while.
I was sure to change that.
I'd never heard Dean mention Dalia or anything. I wasn't even sure that she came to stuff like this. But here I was, anyway. Stupidly, I asked, "Do you know Dalia Glees?"
His eyebrows scrunched up, him looking serious despite wearing goofy cookie monster pajamas. "No, I don't think so. She goes here?"
"Yeah, " I responded, trying not to sound dejected.
I wore my plain black silk pajamas and some Nike slides for the occasion, trying not to look too rough. A lot of the guys simply wore basketball shorts and tees, while the girls went all out and had fur, lace trim, fuzzy socks, and all types of stuff going on. A lot of them were showing quite a bit of skin for a school event, but nobody seemed to care.
"Y'all must have a lot of school spirit," I observed.
"Nah. People here just like being seen."
I snorted, scanning the room. I wondered what Dalia might wear to something like this.
I had to chill.
This was hopeless. I couldn't find any reason to say yes to her wanting to be in that competition with me, but I had no other outlet for getting to know her. I stupidly thought that I might be able to use Dean as a bridge to her, but it was clear that wasn't happening either. I don't know why that even seemed possible to me, knowing that Dean ran with the athletes and Dalia seemed like the type that ran with nobody.
I looked back to where Dean had just been. He wasn't there anymore. I frantically searched around for him, panicking because I didn't know anybody else at this damn pajama party.
My eyes eventually landed on him talking to some gorgeous dark-skinned girl. He had on that smile that said "I'm trying to charm this gorgeous girl."
My eyes didn't stay on them for long because my eyes found an even better target standing right next to them. What were the odds?
She looked awkward and uncomfortable, her posture a little saggier than normal. Her hair was out today, framing her face largely as I'd predicted. She wore a lavender silk button-up with matching shorts and some huge furry boot slippers. It was, ironically, the most covered-up I'd seen her yet.
My whole plan had been to accidentally run into her and strike up a conversation, but that whole thing went to shit when I saw her. What would I even say?
Hey, Dalia. I used my friend that I haven't talked to in months for the slightest chance that I'd be able to corner you into a conversation at your school.
Nah.
And we were accidentally matching and shit, it was too much. I didn't know why I assumed I'd have anything to say, seeing as how I wasn't much of a talker in general. I liked talking to her, though. But right now, I didn't know how to do that.
I took note of Dean's place in the room and went to find a beanbag to set my jacket on and claim before going to the snack table.
The movie for the night was the new Minions movie, and it was set to start in just a few minutes. I figured I wouldn't miss anything if I wasn't seated for the opening sequence. I needed popcorn to be able to focus for a movie.
The line was extremely long, so I assumed that quite a few other people agreed with my sentiments.
I stood in the line, lazily scrolling through my phone trying to pass the time. Whoever was running concessions was moving with no urgency, and it took a long time for me to get my popcorn and M&Ms. So I was confused when I didn't hear any noise from the viewing area of the screening room.
Yeah, the place had a screening room. It was separate from the auditorium and the theatre stage. It was solely for movie purposes.
I moved back over to my beanbag and spotted Dean sitting alone a few paces over. I grabbed my jacket and moved over to him. "Didn't bag the girl?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," he looked ahead at the blank screen that was supposed to have a movie on it by now.
"What's up with the movie?" I changed the subject.
"I think the theatre pyrotechnics kids are trying to fix it now. Something with the projector went bad."
"Where is the projector?"
Dean pointed behind us. "That little booth."
"Be right back."
I had a little bit of experience in projectors, so maybe I could help. I'd worked with enough at the studio and in theatre club in high school.
I went in the little booth, where a group of three kids stood circled around a projector, letting one guy fiddle with the wires.
"What's the issue?" I asked.
The three of them looked up at me, confused but too panicked to question me. They looked eager to throw the responsibility on someone else.
"The projector's coming on but the picture won't show."
My gears began turning when the door to the booth opened again and... Dalia?
We kind of stared at each other for a second. I suddenly felt like a creep, at her private school dressed in pajamas fooling with the theatre kids.
A bunch of first words scrambled through my brain, and I couldn't pick a sequence of them that made sense or would justify why we were seeing each other without embarrassing me. So I was glad when I finally heard her ask, "Lawrence?"
"Hey, Dalia," I breathed out. That would've been a good way to start.
"What're you doing here?"
I ignored her question. God she smelled like purple too. "Why are you in the projector booth?"
"I'm here to help. Wendy's freaking out about the movie night failing, so here I am."
"Was that the dark-skinned girl you were standing with?"
"Yes, how did you-- you knew I was here?"
Fuck. I ignored her again. "Do you even know how to work a projector?"
"No. But I don't need to know how to work a projector to help."
"You kinda do."
"Both of you are wasting everyone's time," the guy fiddling with the wires piped up.
"He's right. So fix it, Lawrence," she gestured a manicured hand between me and the projector.
I fought the urge to smile as I approached the thing. "You said the image isn't showing up?" I asked.
"Yes," he responded.
"Where's the HDMI cable and the computer it's attached to?
They handed the Mac to me and I instantly saw the problem.
"How old is this HDMI cable?" I cringed at the brown stains on it.
"No idea."
"Do y'all have any spares?"
"They're all in the tech room, and there aren't any custodians here this time of night."
I looked to Dalia. "Well, it's your turn."
"There has to be someone here. Or else we wouldn't have been able to get in here in the first place. Come on."
I followed behind her on a beeline to the girl I recognized from earlier. Winnie?
"Wendy, what staff people are here right now?" Wendy was her name.
"Dr. Bass. Did y'all get it figured out? People are getting antsy?"
"Halfway. Where is Bass?" Dalia asked.
"Somewhere in the hall monitoring who comes in and out," Wendy's eyes flitted over to me, confused. She left it alone, though, wanting us to hurry and solve her problem.
"Be right back."
Dalia trudged into the hallway, looking for the administrator.
We ended up getting the woman's keys and in a room full of technology. "Y'all got it nice over here," I leaned up against a desk while I waited for Dalia to find the HDMI cables. "We probably should have asked one of the tech kids to come find the cord in this big ass room."
"Are you stalking me, Lawrence?"
My eyes widened and I was grateful she couldn't see me from where she was crouched down across the room.
"Uh, no."
"First you go to my house, and now you're at my school in your pajamas. It would be creepy if you weren't so handsome."
My face burned hot. "Uh, thanks. And no, um, my friend invited me. And I literally work for your dad."
"If you say so. Came to reconsider my offer?"
Instead of outright saying no, I chose to egg the conversation on. "And why would you assume that?"
"Because I thought about it for a little bit, and it wasn't a bad offer. It would allow for me to finally apply myself and do something of my own volition and means, and it would allow you to go to college."
"I told you I don't want to go to college."
"Tsk, tsk," she sprang up with an HDMI cable in her hand, swinging it around. The sight bothered the blood in my brain, so I finally looked away from her. "But you'll need to go to college in some months if you don't make some shit shake, according to you. You could benefit from a backup plan and the money to do so."
"I think I can make some shit shake," I trailed off. "But I played basketball with Dean Mathis in middle school. He lives in the neighborhood next to mine. He invited me. And I didn't take you as the type to come to pajama party movie night fundraisers at school. And Dean said he didn't know you."
"You've been asking after me?" she smirked and crossed her arms across her chest, and I couldn't keep myself from looking at her again. I could feel the blood swirling inside of me again, for multiple reasons. "So you are stalking me."
"It's not a normal thing to ask if two people who go to the same school know each other?"
"Fair enough. But I guess Dean doesn't know me. I know him, though. He's been all up in Wendy's grill lately."
"Are they a thing?"
"No," she began. "She has a thing with another dude already."
"And Dean knows this?"
She nodded.
I guess I wasn't the only one pining. Wait, pining?
"We should get this cord back before Wendy's blood pressure gets any higher," I said, ready to get out of that room that felt ten degrees hotter than the rest of the building.
I had no idea what happened at any point during the movie.
Dalia had conveniently sat down with Wendy right in front of Dean and me, and I was having issues. I just couldn't stop looking at her.
She was oblivious to my staring, as she genuinely seemed to like the Minions movie. Every now and again, her shoulders would jiggle and she would look to Wendy to grasp her reaction.
After watching this a few times, I snapped to, remembering that I was around others. To test my earlier theory, I hazarded a glance Dean's way. His eyes were burning a hole in the back of Wendy's head.
"Maybe if you ask her to be your girlfriend again, she'll say yes," I whispered at him.
"That's the Dalia girl you were asking about the other day, right?" he retorted.
"Yeah."
He snorted, saying nothing else.
I felt my resolve weakening more and more.
Then she reached back to lift her shirt up and scratch her back, revealing a sliver of bare skin. I made a noise. That was it. That was my last straw.
When the movie ended, I scrambled to my feet and grabbed her by the arm.
"I'm in."
-
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