by Kizzie Hayes
“Yeah… I just do it for recreation, but I’m not a pothead, I swear.” Speaking a bit hesitantly, Sophia frowned as she kept her eyes firmly glued to the dash. Most people didn’t really care about the issue unless it was pressed onto them, and she hoped that was Dylan’s stand. Others couldn’t find a better thing to do than talk and downgrade someone that smoked weed without a medical condition. For her the silence that weighed on the cabin of the truck was heavy and uncomfortable. It seemed to stretch on a lot longer than a single half block.
“It’s not a big deal, I guess- but that stuff’s still illegal and I’m not going to get a ticket if you’ve got any on you.” Adjusting his grip on the steering wheel, Dylan really wasn’t sure what he thought about Sophia’s habit. Drugs were never something he really learned about. All he knew was that he had to stay away, and that was what he did.
In the Navy, he’d watched one of his shipmates get dishonorably discharged for having a bottle of medication that didn’t have the right name on it. There was no way he wanted to go through that humiliation.
“Oh- no! It’s at home. S- so… what do you like to do?” Finally forcing her eyes away, Sophia looked up at Dylan as she changed the subject. His expression was stern; the kind of stern a person got from driving with concentration. Then again, he drove a truck twice the size of her small car, so he probably needed to focus. Against the light of the sun that was slowly setting his profile was strong and solid.
Dylan didn’t answer her, but Sophia wasn’t really paying attention to her own question now. She could see the lines in his face from stress, giving him depth. His nose had obviously been broken, but it was barely noticeable. Under his crew neck t-shirt, the muscles in his arms would flex every time he moved to turn the steering wheel.
Somewhere in the back of her mind a seed started to sprout; a seed of creativity.
“Sophia...” When Dylan parked the car in the overly crowded parking lot of Michael’s Bay Sophia still wouldn’t stop staring at him. He turned fully, but he didn’t think she was really seeing him. She had this look on her face that was far away. Carefully lifting his hand, he waved his palm in front of her face but even that didn’t seem to break her daze. Grimacing lightly, he wondered if this was normal. While he didn’t want to jump to conclusions he didn’t think she would’ve spaced out so badly if she wasn’t high.
Instantly he shook that thought away though. Judging her for smoking marijuana was like someone else judging him for going into the military. It was just something he wanted to do and it kept him happy.
“Sophia- you in there?” Blinking hard when Dylan nudged her shoulder, Sophia felt her face flame again. Her eyes instantly diverted to her lap as the smell of seafood invaded her nostrils. The drive had to have been at least twenty minutes, and for that entire time she’d been staring at him.
Embarrassment wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe her feeling.
“I’m sorry… I was just… thinking.” Across the center console Dylan chuckled and the sound of his keys jingling could be heard. Still Sophia didn’t look up despite the way her fingers fumbled with the door handle. Using a horizontal handle for so long on her own car made the vertical one of his truck a bit unexpected and difficult. Jumping down from the cabin, she shut the door and rubbed her face harshly with her palms.
At least there was a bright side to her inattentiveness. He didn’t appear to think she was weird.
*****
“Oh! I forgot to tell you, Dylan. I get free food from here.” Bypassing the line of people waiting to get a table, Sophia smiled up at Dylan. She was hoping the owner of Michael’s Bay, aptly named Michael, would extend her little plastic card to her companion as well. It just wasn’t right that he went through all this trouble and she was the cause of it.
Well, she wasn’t really the cause but she was related to the cause. It was close enough in her book.
“Why?”
“I painted the inside. Come on, I’ll show you.” Slipping through the door Dylan opened for her, Sophia went straight past the hostess booth and into the restaurant. The smell of all types of seafood hung heavily in the air. As she walked she took deep breaths. In front of her were tables, all covered in food and surrounded by patrons. There was nothing really special about this particular room, though. It was only for people who had smallish groups. Decorations were minimal and muted. Talking was soft and everything gave off a more intimate, date like feel.
Sophia led Dylan through towards the back half of Michael’s Bay. The food might’ve been the same throughout, but the atmosphere was totally different. Instantly boisterous laughter and shouting could be heard. People were sitting at the bar as well as tables meant for groups of ten or more. It was the scenery that made her pause in the huge archway as pride bubbled in her chest.
Every wall had a mural on it. Behind the bar, a huge octopus hid behind bottles of alcohol and across from it, a shoal of fish swam. Even from so far away she could see the incredible detail on every scale and in every eye. If she had to pick a favorite, though, it’d be the wall that held the door to the kitchens. Michael had wanted something different, and that was what she gave him. Instead of a plain, boring painting, the wall came alive. She’d built it up with clay, creating a 3D piece of dolphins. Each one was unique, textured and painted with care.
“I painted all of this. It took months but Michael was really happy with it. He especially liked the kitchen wall. So, anyway, he wanted to pay me but I told him I’d rather get free food. I didn’t think he’d actually give me free food for life, though. He paid for all of the materials and I’ve probably eaten my way through half of what it cost to do all of this.”
Looking around, Dylan was stunned by the sheer talent that surrounded him. He heard Sophia explaining, but didn’t really look away to offer any kind of response. It blew him away that one person could do one thing so well. If he were completely honest with himself, he couldn’t even wrap his head around it. Sure, he was good at some things; being the absolute best, though, was another story. No one he’d ever encountered before anywhere or at any time could paint like she could.
“It’s incredible.” Breathing out the compliment, Dylan wasn’t sure Sophia heard him over the noise but when he finally turned his gaze to her she was blushing again. She did it so easily, and he couldn’t help but smile to mirror hers.
“Thanks. You’d think after doing this I’d be famous and wouldn’t have to work at Fashionista… but not really, I guess. Uh- so, do you want to sit? No offense but I’m absolutely starving. I mean, I was eating noodles with no sauce!”
It only took a moment for the hostess to seat them, and Sophia busied herself with looking over the menu. Everything looked so appetizing, but she wanted to try each item before doubling up. Since it was hard to decide what to order, she went from the front of the menu to the back.
Today was lobster bisque day; just thinking about it made her mouth water.
“So… what happened, if you don’t mind my asking? To your leg, I mean.” Sophia only spoke up after they’d placed their order, and she watched as Dylan developed a slight frown from across the table. A shadow passed through his already dark eyes, but she didn’t feel bad for asking. Rarely did she ever have an opportunity like the one presented to her in that moment. Most of the time she only heard about veterans on the news.
“I was doing a routine patrol with my unit and we got fired on. I was the only person that got injured, thankfully. It was stupidly dangerous but after I got shot in my calf, I ran for the opposite side of the building where the insurgents were and distracted them long enough for my unit to shoot them down. It wasn’t until I got back to base that the doc told me the bullet had nicked my femur and running around had broken it in several places.”
The way Dylan spoke told Sophia he didn’t really feel disgruntled about the actual attack. He was in a war, after all; it was dangerous no matter where he went. Watching him reach up to rub his neck, she found her own s
mall frown creeping onto her face.
“Would you do it again if you knew you were going to be medically discharged?”
“Yeah, definitely.” Dylan’s response was instant, and he leaned back in his chair as his mind ran over the memory once again. It’d been one of the most conflicted moments of his life. Breaking his leg so badly meant he couldn’t be in the active Navy, but no one had died. He didn’t know if it would’ve been the same outcome regardless, but he liked to think it couldn’t have ended so well otherwise. Too often troops got attacked and only a fraction came back alive.
Across the table Sophia nodded, but she didn’t try to continue the conversation. Opening his mouth, Dylan noticed the way her baby blue eyes flickered down to his lips but ignored it for now.
“Why do you live with your cousin if you don’t like her? I get that it’s free, but is there some other reason?”
“Well… first because it’s free. Second, Jocelyn has had a lot of housemates in the past and none of them can stand her. She didn’t want to live alone. I guess I just live there because it’s easy. I mean, I’ve saved up a few thousand dollars so far because of it. And since I only work part-time, I have a lot more time to work on my art. It’s not like I’m just wasting my life like Jocelyn. Oliver is her brother, and he pays for everything since he’s filthy rich. Instead of giving his money away like an idiot, he invests it. If I weren’t around, Jocelyn would probably be homeless by now.”
If she was being truthful Sophia didn’t like being a freeloader, but she knew Oliver didn’t mind paying for her. Surely she didn’t need such a lavish apartment. She could’ve done just as well with a cheap apartment on the crappy side of town. This was just how the situation was, and she wasn’t going to stir the pot.
“So he’s hoping that one day you’ll make it big with your art and it’ll all pay off for him?” At Dylan’s question Sophia nodded firmly. She didn’t mind being used since it wasn’t malicious in any way. She understood the deal that she’d need to pay up to.
“I’m definitely going to make it big, you know. But yes, basically. He’s a talent manager, you know. He covers some big names in Hollywood and a few big authors. He wants to branch into art and who better than his own cousin?”
Dylan didn’t have a response for her rhetorical question, and Sophia glanced around the front of the restaurant. It was about time for their food to arrive, and a smile broke her face when she saw the waitress heading to their table.
*****
While they ate neither said a word, too engrossed in their meal. For Sophia, she was in absolute Heaven. Lobster bisque was an art that was just as difficult as painting, but Michael’s Bay had it perfected. Even if she wanted to speak she couldn’t; the only time her mouth wasn’t full was that rare moment when she took a breath. She wasn’t a messy eater, but when she liked something it was very obvious.
“Do you want to come to my place?” Waiting for Sophia to get her plain, white plastic card back, Dylan watched her eyes widen across the table. He wasn’t sure why he asked, but at her reaction he opened his mouth again.
“Just because Jocelyn might still be at your apartment and she could probably kick your ass if you went back and she was still pissed at you.” Arching an eyebrow at the logic, Sophia couldn’t stop her smile or eventual small laugh from escaping. It was certainly a laughable scenario. Jocelyn might’ve been a health nut but she didn’t like to fight. Dylan wouldn’t know that though, and she wasn’t going to tell him.
“You worried about me, Dylan?” Offering the teasing response, she felt her smile grow when he nodded firmly. It was almost as if he refused to be embarrassed about asking her to come home with him.
“I’d like to, sure. What did you have in mind?”
“We can watch a movie. I have that new zombie film that came out last month on DVD.” This time it was Sophia that nodded even though she didn’t like zombies. She liked Dylan, though. While she couldn’t put her finger on it just yet there was something about him that drew her interests. Maybe it was because he was unlike anyone she’d met before. Not only was he a military man, but he was fairly easy going. Of course, not so much as her but they had a nice time together. After their harsh meeting she felt like they could be friends.
“Okay.”
The ride to Dylan’s house was quiet, and thankfully this time Sophia didn’t get sidetracked in watching him drive. She had to put in a conscious effort, though. Instead, she busied herself with wondering about her next project as the city flew by. His story inspired her; his look was attractive. Even in her mind he would look good on canvas, and not many people had that kind of quality.
“You live by yourself?” Coming up on a small, single story home, Sophia took in the bland, beige siding and typical, clean front yard. The only thing it was missing was a white picket fence and a second floor. Glancing at Dylan in time to watch him shake his head, she furrowed her eyebrows slightly until he spoke up.
“Not technically. This is my buddy’s house. He’s still in Afghanistan so he told me I could live here if I took care of the place. Once and a while his mom will stop by but for the most part I’m on my own.”
Pulling into the driveway, Dylan shut off the car even as Sophia asked another question. He didn’t mind the back and forth, though. It was nice to have a casual conversation even though their date was pretty much directionless at this point.
“What about your family? No one comes to see you?”
“Ah- no. My brothers and sisters have their own lives and my dad disowned me when I joined the Navy because he wanted me to be in the Army.”
Once again Sophia felt a crinkle in her brow. Why someone would disown their child was beyond her, let alone for something so small. Then again the military played by its own set of rules. It was inherited, so it might’ve been a slight too great to ignore. Frankly she’d never know or understand.
“What about your parents?” Dylan asked.
Sitting in the still vehicle, Sophia felt a full blown frown take over her face at Dylan’s question.
“My mom died from breast cancer when I was fourteen and my dad got really strange afterward. I don’t know exactly what was wrong with him. I went to live with Jocelyn’s parents after that and we didn’t talk for years. He committed suicide about a year and a half ago. When me and my friend went through his stuff, he told me my dad was suffering from severe PTSD. He’s a psychologist, my friend- he’s also my weed dealer, ironically.”
Staring at Sophia’s rounded face, Dylan felt his heart lurch in his chest. He couldn’t imagine losing everything at only fourteen years old. Maybe that was why she smoked weed. Pursing his lips together, he felt like he could identify. Death changed people, and for some there was no going back. For others, they tried to float through life on a cloud. To him it seemed like she was invested, but also at the same time she wasn’t.
“It’s hard to watch someone leave one moment perfectly alive only to be in a body bag the next time you see him. It must’ve been worse to watch someone slowly slip away before his eyes.”
Glancing over at Dylan, Sophia felt her frown melt into a small smile before opening her mouth. Her parents weren’t necessarily a sore subject, but she’d rather not talk about it. After ten years, whenever someone found out, they’d apologize.
The truth was she could barely remember her mother, and there was no shame in that. She actually preferred it that way.
“I wouldn’t know. Whenever I try to picture my mom, my Aunt Casey shows up instead. I mean, yeah- I was, like, fourteen when she died, but I don’t have the best memory.”
Dylan’s house was neat and orderly and Sophia didn’t expect anything less. The furnishings were minimal, but for people that weren’t home for months at a time, she could understand. At least there was a couch and a television. Dropping quietly onto the plush, dark green fabric, she heaved a sigh while Dylan fiddled with the DVD player.
“Doesn’t your friend know what colors are? I don’t mean
to be rude or anything but it’s the same color as the local prison, you know.”
“He’s colorblind.” Straightening with the remote in hand, Dylan smirked as he made his way to the couch. Sophia made a face but she obviously knew he was only joking, and she scooted a bit so he could sit next to her.
“Even for a colorblind person, this place is depressing.”
Draping his arm over the back of the couch, he flicked the television to the right channel with a heavy sigh. For someone that didn’t want to be rude she sure did speak candidly.
“Just ignore it, then. This movie is actually pretty good.” Sophia frowned lightly but decided to keep her mouth shut. Now wouldn’t be a good time to tell Dylan she was scared of scary movies. He’d probably figure it out on his own when she had her hands over her face and peeked through her fingers. The horror genre couldn’t even be classified as a ‘frenemy’ for her. She hated it and it hated her right back.
Only a few minutes into the movie Sophia caught sight of her first zombie and she instantly covered her eyes. It was covered in blood and guts and had obviously just been eating someone. She couldn’t block out the creepy noises it was making, though. They mixed with the panic of people shouting and running, their shoes slapping against pavement. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she cracked a gap between her fingers and held her breath.
Dylan waited a moment or two to wrap his arm around Sophia and pull her closer. Against his own muscular body, hers was soft. Still a slight frown appeared on his face before he parted his lips.
“You should’ve told me you’re a scaredy-cat, Sophia.” Pressing the pause button on the remote, he felt her slump exaggeratedly before removing her hands from her face to crinkle her nose up at him.