Daryl didn't have any affinity for the frosted, mocha-frilly hipster lounge that was Erb's. It was a coffee shop in downtown Atlanta that all the hip teenagers went to. Daryl passed it loads of times, occasionally peeking into to see the four-eyed monstrosities that sat in the chairs and listened to Mumford & Sons while writing a paper on global warming or some shit. Needless to say, Daryl hated the generation before him. They didn't know poverty or problems if it bit them on their artfully ripped jeans.
The bet was if Daryl could stay on a mustang for more than fifteen seconds. Daryl only lasted six, but Merle stayed on for twenty-three. The loser had to stay at Erb's for an hour.
An hour, Daryl thought bitterly. An hour surrounded by virgin losers who wanted to talk about the era of American Romanticism. He would suffocate on the artificial cocoa flavoring alone, much less the pretentious atmosphere. If he did die from inhalation, he wouldn't mind one bit.
He entered the coffee shop signaled by a ding. Merle's words drifted back to him.
"Make sure you order something extra frothy!" Merle teased. He could still hear the condescending tone in his head.
Daryl perused the menu, not finding anything he would like. He was a simple man- black coffee would suit him just fine. But it was all mint-mocha this and whipped cream cappuccino that. And what the hell was a java?
After asking the barista a million questions, he decided on a plain cappuccino. He turned to sit down, and realized there were no empty seats. Well, save for one seat in a booth. But the booth was occupied by a girl.
He sighed and decided to sit. After all, what harm could he do?
The girl was small, only taking up a quarter of the fat booth. Her blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she was bent over an old laptop. Her blue eyes glanced up at him temporarily, then returned to the screen.
"Um, do you mind?" he asked. She made some noise in her throat, and he decided to take it as an invitation to sit. Daryl sat across from her, and examined her for a moment as she typed away. She couldn't have reached past his shoulders, and her thin frame made her look like she'd blow away in a hurricane. Though her face was round and her eyes were soft, there was some unmistakable strength in her that emanated outward. He couldn't quite figure out what it was, but something about her made her look courageous.
She wasn't dressed like a hipster either. Her jeans, although ripped, were old and muddy. She wore farm boots and a crew neck t-shirt with the logo of some farmer's market.
Daryl had no desire to make small talk with someone that hung around this type of place (no matter what they were wearing) so he sat and stared out the window instead. He kept checking the clock, hoping the hour would pass quickly.
"How do you spell 'appease'?" The girl asked. Daryl peered at her. The girl's voice was meager, but just like her body held a strength that told him she wouldn't back down easily.
"Hell if I know." The girl resumed her typing, but now he was curious. "What are you writin'?"
"I'm working on a paper for my Eco class," she replied. Daryl admitted he was taken aback. She wasn't writing a thesis on the symbols in To Kill a Mockingbird?
"You go to the U?" he wondered. She nodded.
"Wanted to just work on the farm but my dad said I had to get a proper education." Her voice hardened at the mention of her father. So she wasn't just some rich, pretentious bitch. Interesting.
"You been there long?" he questioned.
"S'my second year," she looked up at him, "I'm Beth."
"Daryl," he supplied. She definitely piqued his interest. "What are you majoring in?"
"Animal Sciences," she answered, typing at the same time. "I'm doing a paper on the economic and ecological impact of cows." His mouth turned up at the rolling of her eyes.
"Sounds fascinatin'," he smiled.
"You'd be surprised at the impact on the economy if cattle went extinct." They smiled at each other, and then they got quiet. There was a pause as Daryl sipped his coffee. It wasn't too bad. There was a bit too much sugar.
"Can I ask you somethin'?" He began. She glanced up at him.
"Shoot."
"What the hell are ya doin' here?" She grinned at that.
"I could ask you the same question," she countered.
"I lost a bet," he said. She looked amused. After a moment he said, "so why are you here?"
"My sister and dad are getting' on my case. Sometimes it's just a lot better being away from the farm for a little while, even if it's to come here."
"Doubt it," he murmured. She laughed.
"You seem like a quaint man. How would you like to have dinner with my family tonight?" She inquired. She was full of surprises, one after the other. He hadn't really been invited to dinner before, but he realized he would love nothing more.
"That sounds fine," he answered.
Fireflies winked in the night. Daryl was sitting on a porch swing with Beth, watching day become night. The evening was pretty uneventful. It was a normal dinner with a normal family. Beth's sister and father, Maggie and Hershel, seemed skeptical at first, but warmed up to him eventually. He never met her mother, and he didn't ask.
Something about the night felt wholesome. The dining room was warm and cozy, and her family was nice. The farm was modest, stretching for acres beyond them. Here he was, a runaway, beaten down guy, sitting on a porch swing in the cool night with a beautiful girl.
Her family had stayed inside, giving them privacy. Daryl was stretched out, his arm around her. Her smile was pleasant. It would only take one lean for him to kiss her sweet lips. He felt warm all over, from the delicious dinner to the cool night. So this was what it was like to be content. He hadn't really had this experience before. Home was never a calm memory, not with his dad or Merle around.
She snuggled deeper into him, her arm crossing over his stomach. She was sleepy, by the way her arms gripped him close and her fluttering eyes.
"You should get on to bed," he whispered. She looked up at him and smiled that dazzling smile. He could feel his heart beat erratically in his chest. Why, if Merle could see him now, he'd call him a pussy.
"Then you'll leave," she whispered.
"I'll see you later," he promised. She gripped him tighter.
"Just stay out here for a while longer." And he did. He listened to the frogs and the crickets and watched the fireflies blink and dance in the dark. He wrapped his arms around the frail girl and hummed to the beat of the night. He should lose bets more often.
He heard her soft snores, and decided to pick her up and take her inside. He passed Hershel, who gave him a cursory eye.
"You better be careful with her, boy," he said gruffly. Daryl had a feeling he didn't mean dropping her.
"Where's her bedroom?" Daryl asked quietly.
"Up the stairs to the left. Don't stay too long," Hershel warned. Daryl nodded and walked up the stairs. He approached the door to the left. Thankfully, it was ajar, so all he had to do was push it with his toe. He lay her down on the unmade bed and pulled the thin sheet over her body. She was sighing and her eyelids fluttered. When they returned from the coffee shop, Beth had changed into cut off shorts and a billowy top. Her eyes opened, meeting his.
"Stay," she whispered, her hand touching his bare shoulder where the leather of his jacket and his skin met. He took her hand in his and kissed it.
"Wish I could, but I think your dad would throw a fit," Daryl answered. Beth giggled.
"He's nothing to be afraid of."
"You need to get some rest. Got that eco paper and all," he murmured. He was sitting on the edge of her bed, and even as he was making excuses for him to leave, he was touching her waist.
"It can wait," she breathed. He bent down and kissed her forehead like he did it a thousand times before.
"Bye," he said, getting up to leave. She watched him as he went to the door and shut it behind him softly. She was grinning like an idiot. When the room was dark and the house was silent, she said to no one in particular, "goodbye."