First Impressions Series (1-2)

by Nicole R. Locker

  When I considered that, suddenly I felt differently about the whole situation. I respected Dylan so much more because he did what he had done that night.

  Dylan arrived a few minutes early, true to his character. He saw me and joined me at my table with a nervous expression.

  “You’re not having second thoughts now, are you?” I chided playfully.

  “Not at all,” he responded. “Good evening,” he greeted me with his gorgeous, charming smile from across the table where he took his seat. He wore a tight-fitting green button down shirt that looked like it had been pressed, along with some dark wash jeans that hugged his thighs and butt in a delicious way that could not escape my notice.

  “Good evening to you,” I smiled. “Are you ready for your final session? Maybe tonight is your lucky night,” I opted for optimism.

  “I have a good feeling it could be,” he admitted.

  “Well, I’m only here for moral support. Tonight we’re taking off the training wheels so we can see how you fare doing this on your own.”

  “Okay, I like that idea. I was going to suggest the same thing, to see how well I do at choosing the right girl for myself now, from what you’ve shown me,” he said.

  “That sounds like a plan,” not necessarily a good one, but a plan, nonetheless. The thought of him finding a girl he really liked tonight sent a piercing pain through my chest, but I carried on without giving anything away. This was for him; this was not about me. “So, do you want to look around and check out the playing field you have tonight?”

  Dylan looked around the room for a moment, and then looked back at me and smiled. “I think I see one that might pass the Marzia Benagli seal of approval. I tell you what, I’m going to go to the bar and get a couple of drinks, and then I’ll just go up to her and offer her one. Does that sound like a good plan?” he asked.

  “Yes, I think that’s a great plan,” I admitted.

  “Okay… so what kind of a drink should I get that might generally be a good one to offer a girl?” It was a good question, and I couldn’t help but notice that even before he got to know some lucky girl tonight, he was trying to be thoughtful.

  “Well, I guess for most girls, you can’t go wrong with something fruity, like a cherry vodka sour or a margarita,” I told him, and with a nod, he was on his way to the bar.

  So I guessed that was it. Now all I had to do was grin and bear the next hour or so, until I could politely see myself out after watching Dylan meet, flirt with, and hit it off with some beautiful, lucky girl. Probably some girl who wouldn’t even deserve him and wouldn’t really know just what a great guy she had standing right in front of her, dazzled only by the beautiful exterior and never taking the time to look deeper to the true and amazing beauty that was inside him.

  I could only hope that she would live up to everything I had taught him to look for in a girl. He at least deserved that; someone with dignity and grace. He deserved someone with standards, but with a sense of humor, and someone with her own identity that didn’t revolve around the approval of male attention.

  I looked at my phone, not wanting to look up, afraid that he’d had enough time by now to get his drinks from the bar and make his way over to whoever the lucky girl would be.

  Then, I thought, maybe I could find someone in here that I knew to talk to, to help pass the time and distract my mind with some conversation. I could spare a glance up for that.

  But as I looked up, a beautiful, wonderfully familiar man with two drinks in his hand approached me.

  Dylan?

  “A tall rum and coke with a lime for the beautiful lady?” Dylan said as he sat the drink in front of me. “Single shot, of course,” he added.

  “Thank you. How did you know?” I asked him, confused, as he sat back down at my table.

  “I pay attention,” he answered. “I didn’t think a fruity drink would do for the girl I had in mind tonight.” He looked straight into my eyes, holding my gaze as confusion continued to grow.

  “Are you waiting on someone who isn’t here yet?”

  I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I had to admit I was grateful for the delay and the few more moments of time with him that it bought me.

  “No, Zia. She’s sitting right here in front of me.” Dylan grabbed my hands and angled me to face him directly, to command my full attention. “It’s always been you.”

  “Me? I don’t understand.” My heart began to race faster than it has ever raced before. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? Was I hearing what I wanted to hear from wishful thinking right now?

  Dylan continued, “From the first moment I saw you, right here in this bar several weeks ago, to the first moment I heard you speak your name when you sat at the table I had left my Biology book on, to holding you as we salsa danced, to learning the music you love and the coffee shop you spend so much of your time in. From the shape of your beautiful body in a nice pair of yoga pants, to the way you drool in your sleep.”

  I couldn’t help but interject a laugh there as he continued, “It’s your smile, and your laugh, and the way you see through to the real me. The way you know exactly what I like, even when I don’t know it myself.”

  Dylan moved his chair right beside mine, facing me, still looking me straight in the eyes and holding my hands like he was afraid to let go. “It’s you, Zia.”

  A traitorous tear escaped down my cheek, and I was overwhelmed by the pure joy of what I was hearing from those beautiful, magical lips. Dylan let go of my hand just long enough to gently wipe it away from my face. I swear, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say I must have been dreaming.

  He was right there in the middle of all those people at the Book Shelf, professing all of these feelings for me as though he didn’t care that anyone heard or saw.

  “But the other night, you rejected me. I threw myself at you and you stopped me. I don’t understand how a few days ago you could just walk away when I was baring all my feelings to you like that, and now all of a sudden say that you do have feelings for me.” I just couldn’t wrap my brain around this, and I knew that when things seemed too good to be true, they usually were.

  “Zia, you had just had a pretty traumatic experience the night before, and I saw how bad it affected you. What kind of guy would I be if I took advantage of you in the state you were in after that had just happened? I wouldn’t have been any better than Cason. I’m not like that. I respect you and care about you too much to ever do that to you. I never want to be a regret you look back on,” he explained.

  Hearing him explain it made total sense. He was being a considerate, caring gentleman, and I was taking it personally, trying to read between the lines and finding things that weren’t there… again.

  Finally, after a long moment of silence, I asked him, “Me?”

  “For me, Zia, it’s you. But the question is what about you. What do you feel for me? I know that this wasn’t what you signed up for. You thought you were helping me find other girls. I’m just not sure that you ever wanted to be one of them.”

  Wow, I couldn’t even fathom that he could question my desire for him, especially after I spilled my guts to him last weekend after the inebriation wore away my inhibitions.

  “Dylan, is that even really a question? Do you seriously doubt what my feelings are for you? I realize that I was drunk the other night when I told you how I felt, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t true. I meant every word of it. The only thing I didn’t mean was for any of it to come out when I didn’t think you felt anything like that for me,” I admitted to him.

  There was a long pause as Dylan looked into my eyes as though he were searching for confirmation there that my words were true.

  Finally, Dylan let go of my left hand and touched his right hand to my cheek as he leaned in with those magic lips and kissed me. He kissed me in a way that had me melting right into the chair I sat in. The feel of his tender lips and the way they pressed passionately against mine had my mind reeling and begging
for more.

  There we were in the middle of a crowded bar with people around us everywhere, but I couldn’t even care. Suddenly it was like he and I were the only two people in the world. This was the moment I’d been waiting for, a moment I never expected to actually happen. Yet here we were.

  When the kiss broke, Dylan smiled the most charming and heart-felt smile at me.

  I had to ask, “When did you know?”

  “Know that I wanted to know you, or know that I wanted to keep you?” he asked.

  “Both, I suppose,” I clarified.

  “The night I saw you here, the night you said you first saw me was when I first noticed you. When I saw you again a couple of days later in the Student Central Building on campus at the table I forgot my Biology book sitting at, that was when I first knew that I wanted to know you. Of course when I saw you at the coffee shop later that evening I knew I couldn’t pass up my chance to talk to you,” he explained, now holding both my hands again.

  “Okay, so then that just leaves when you knew you wanted to keep me,” I prodded, still afraid to believe what was happening and what he was saying.

  “The night that I came by your apartment and we got to talk and get to really know each other a lot better. That was the night I lost the good fight of trying to deny how much I was starting to like you.”

  Dylan’s face became serious, and he looked down at where our hands were intertwined together. Then he continued, “But what really sealed the deal for me was the night at Thunder, when I went back to find you because I just couldn’t keep pretending to be interested in all these other girls anymore, when all I really wanted to be doing was talking and being with you.

  “I went back to the table and you were gone, so while I waited thinking you had gone to the restroom, I looked over and saw you being carried out by that sick bastard. I saw red. Rage just consumed my entire existence and all I could think of was that I had to protect you. I’ve never been more scared in my life as I was on that drive to the hospital that night.”

  Dylan pulled me in for a tight embrace, and after several seconds he loosened his hold but gifted a soft kiss to my lips with his arms still circled around me, my arms clinging around his waist as well.

  “What took you so long to say anything if you’ve felt that way for all this time?” I asked, looking up at him expectantly.

  “I guess I just wasn’t sure how you would react. I mean, you were going to an awful lot of trouble to pawn me off on all these other girls,” he said teasingly.

  “Hey, now! I was just trying to help,” I teased back defensively, then added, “So why didn’t you call or text me after that night last weekend when I tried to drunkenly seduce you?”

  “That, I guess you could thank Becker for. I ran into him and some other guys that next morning at the gym, and he was bragging to us about going out with you earlier that week. He said he had plans to hook up with you again soon. And maybe a few other things guys usually say to each other about girls they’re seeing. I guess it caught me off guard, and I figured I didn’t want to stand in your way.” He was all serious again.

  “I see…” I didn’t know what to say. I felt guilty now about turning to Becker to try to forget about Dylan, and especially guilty about bringing Becker to Dylan’s game after that.

  “Dylan, I have no interest in Becker. The truth is, I really never did. He was just someone Clara had been trying to set me up with for a while, so when I started getting to a point where it was getting harder and harder to ignore my feelings for you, I got desperate for a distraction. So I agreed to go out with him one night a couple weeks ago.”

  Dylan laughed and shook his head. “I’m glad to hear you’re not interested in him. Apparently he’s been known to have a temper. ‘Roid rage or something. I was going to hate to have to beat up your boyfriend if he ever laid a hand on you,” Dylan said as he brushed a hand down the side of my arm.

  I laughed. “Thanks for that. Why are you just now telling me this? You were just going to let me figure that out on my own?” I feigned an angry disbelief.

  “Would you have listened to me if I had told you?” he asked as though he already knew the answer.

  “Well, probably not,” I admitted. “But I’d at least have kept it in the back of my mind so that I could have watched out for the signs.”

  Dylan and I talked for another couple of hours before we shared a cab to my apartment that night and he walked me up to my apartment door on the fifth floor.

  We made plans to hang out the next day after classes and practice, and he gave me the most heart-melting kiss goodnight before I went inside for the night.

  I spared no detail to Clara before going to bed that night, and of course she wasn’t surprised.

  “I’ve been telling you all along, Z. You both had it bad for each other, and everyone could see it but the two of you,” Clara said as she shook her head.

  That night as I lay in bed, hugging my pillow and texting sweet messages back and forth with Dylan, I came to a realization.

  It was funny how I thought I was so great at reading people, and maybe in some ways I was. But my first impression of Dylan could not have been further from what he was really like. Imagine everything I would have missed if I had been set on my first opinion of him from that night at the Book Shelf. I’d never have gotten to know what an amazing person he was.

  Thank God for second impressions!

  CHAPTER 11: DYLAN

  When I arrived at the Book Shelf Saturday evening, Zia was already sitting at a table waiting, punctual as ever. As soon as I saw her, my pulse quickened.

  A lot was at stake tonight, and my nerves knew it.

  I observed her sitting there alone for a moment before she saw me. She looked… sad? Nervous, maybe? It wasn’t like her, I thought. I was used to seeing her so cheerful and positive. I continued to have my doubts, but my resolve was steel. I would carry out my plan tonight, regardless of how it might turn out for me.

  I painted the most sincere smile I could muster as I approached her table. She apparently saw right through it immediately.

  “You’re not having second thoughts now, are you?” She chided playfully.

  “Not at all,” I responded. “Good evening.” Now my smile was sincere as I took a seat across the table from her.

  “Good evening to you, too,” she returned. “Are you ready for your final session? Maybe tonight is your lucky night.”

  God, I hoped so.

  “I have a good feeling it could be,” I said optimistically. What could it hurt?

  “Well, I’m only here for moral support. Tonight we’re taking off the training wheels so we can see how you fare doing this on your own.” She must have read my mind.

  “Okay, I like that idea.” I smiled. “I was going to suggest the same thing, to see how well I do at choosing the right girl for myself now, from what you’ve shown me.” I leaned toward her, and had to restrain myself from taking both of her hands in mine as they sat on the table in front of me.

  “That sounds like a plan. So, do you want to look around and check out the playing field you have tonight?” She turned her head, scoping first one side of the room, then the other.

  I looked around to see what she was viewing, then back at her. “I think I see one that might pass the Marzia Benagli seal of approval. I tell you what, I’m going to go to the bar and get a couple of drinks, and then I’ll just go up to her and offer her one. Does that sound like a good plan?” I asked.

  “Yes, I think that’s a great plan,” she agreed, nodding her head with less enthusiasm than her voice attempted to get across.

  “Okay… so what kind of a drink should I get that might generally be a good one to offer a girl?”

  “Well, I guess for most girls, you can’t go wrong with something fruity, like a cherry vodka sour or a margarita,” she answered.

  Maybe a fruity drink would work for most girls, but Zia was not most girls. I nodded in acknowledgment before heading i
n the direction of the bar as she remained sitting in her place at the table.

  Once I approached the bar, I signaled for the bartender. “Can I get a tall rum and coke with a lime, single shot, and a bottle of Dos Equis?”

  The bartender nodded in acknowledgment and went to work before handing me the two drinks.

  With the drinks in hand, I turned and looked back at Zia, trying to collect every ounce of confidence I could muster before putting one foot in front of the other to put my plan into action.

  Here goes nothing!

  Zia was looking down blankly at her phone, and as I approached her, she looked up in surprise.

  “A tall rum and coke with a lime for the beautiful lady?” I said as I sat the drink in front of her. “Single shot, of course,” I added.

  “Thank you. How did you know?” she asked, confused.

  I sat back down at the table, beside her now instead of across. “I pay attention,” I answered. “I didn’t think a fruity drink would do for the girl I had in mind tonight,” I said as I looked straight into her eyes.

  Zia looked confused. “Are you waiting on someone who isn’t here yet?” She looked around as though someone else might appear.

  “No, Zia. She’s sitting right here in front of me.” This time I did grab her hands and angled her to face me directly, vying for her full attention. “It’s always been you,” I confessed, already feeling as though a weight had been lifted off me.

  “Me? I don’t understand.” She was not going to make this easy on me. I began to worry that maybe this was her way of giving me an out.

  But by that point, I was all in. It was all or nothing, so I persisted. “From the first moment I saw you, right here in this bar several weeks ago, to the first moment I heard you speak your name when you sat at the table I had left my Biology book on, to holding you as we salsa danced, to learning the music you love and the coffee shop you spend so much of your time in. From the shape of your beautiful body in a nice pair of yoga pants, to the way you drool in your sleep.”