grip on my imprisoned hand, his thumb sliding down the center of the covered palm.
I shiver at the sensation, exhaling a shaky breath. âI⦠Okay.â I can barely think, barely move. I am captured, locked in a state of perfect being. Frozen in one perfect moment.
âRead this,â he says, pressing a folded paper into my hand.
And then, heâs gone.
I remain in my spot for a moment, holding on to this feeling. Tucking it safely away in my mind, where I can experience it over and over again for as long as possible. I force myself to take several slow breaths to focus my mind, slip the note into my pocket for when I can read it in privacy. Then I head to my next class, carrying secret thoughts of Dominic with me.
In the solitude of my patio that evening, I finally dare to open the note Dominic gave me. The rest of the day at school, it sat heavy in my pocket, beckoning me. But I wanted to read it at home, where I could focus and absorb his words without the distraction of people around me.
I cross my bare legs and drape them over the small ottoman, unfolding the paper. Anticipation freezes the breath in my lungs. I read:
I want to know you, but
The armor that shields you
Holds you in, holds
Me out
There is something behind your eyes, an
Ache of sadness .
Secrets that want to spill .
Who are you?
You are a puzzle, a
Rhyme, a riddle with
No answer. But you are here ,
Just the same .
At the bottom of the page is a phone number.
I reread the poem and the phone number several times, memorizing and absorbing his words, letting them saturate me. Of course heâs a poet. I should have recognized a kindred spirit.
The last sentence of the poem has a sense of promise. A sense of understanding. Does he want me to call him?
I swallow, carefully fold the poem and slip it into my shorts pocket. The last thing I need is for Sitri to discover it. I should toss the paper. Or even better, burn it. But Dominic opened himself to me without even a promise of me doing the same. I canât make myself get rid of it.
So for now, I will keep the poem close, where Sitri canât get it. I will have something sacred that is just for me.
I reach for my cell, my hand trembling. Before I can change my mind, I dial the numbers on the paper.
âHello?â a female voice answers.
My heart smashes against my ribcage. For a split second I worry that I canât do this. But Samanthaâs words from earlier in the day soothe me. Sheâs rightâheâs respecting me, giving me space to take the lead. I can overcome my fear and take this small step.
âHello, is anyone there?â the voice says.
âUm, sorry. Is Dominic home?â
âSure, hold on a sec.â I hear the phone being set down and the personâs voice hollering for him.
A few seconds later, Dominic answers. âHello?â
âUm.â I swallow. Talk! âHi. Itâsâ¦itâs me, Isabel.â
âHi. Are you busy right now?â
I glance at the pile of homework on my desk. Normally I finish Fridayâs homework that day, but thereâs no reason it canât wait until tomorrow. âNo. Why?â
âMeet me in your courtyard inâ¦â Pause. âTwenty minutes.â
I canât help the smile on my face. âWhat are we doing?â
He chuckles. âWouldnât you rather be surprised?â His voice is husky, and it stirs something inside me.
âOkay,â I reply, a little breathless. âIâll be there.â
We hang up. I frantically run to my closet, trying to pick out the most flattering outfit I can find. Nothing satisfies me. Finally I just pick a pale blue top and jeans, then go to the bathroom to apply a little makeup.
Once done, I slip the note into my pocket, grab my purse and cell phone, and head down the stairs. I force myself to walk slowly, to stay calm and relaxed. This is just a friendly get-together, nothing more.
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