Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! I haven't decided if I want to go on with this story after this chapter or not, so please review and let me know what you think!
Dez held out his arm again as we walked into the barn. As nice as it was, I kept hoping he'd hold my hand. That would've felt more… intimate, I guess. I just wanted some definite sign from him that he liked me and was into this. I mean, more than just the asking me out about twenty times. Because that could have just been him enjoying the chase. I was hard to get, and a lot of the time, guys liked it until they caught you, and then they got bored.
We reached the door and stopped. He turned and looked at me. "You ready?"
I simply nodded and he reached forward to open the door and then gesture for me to go in ahead of him. I stepped inside and looked around in awe. What had appeared to be a barn- a well taken care of barn, but a barn nonetheless- from the outside was actually an art gallery. I glanced around, taking in the photographs that were currently on display. I was having a weird sense of deja vu, but I couldn't figure out what it was about. Then I spotted a photograph of a river winding its way through a forest, a mountain hulking in the background. Trees lined the hills the river cut through, and the mountain's point dipped into a swirling mass of clouds in the sky. I had seen that picture before.
Finally it hit me. I turned to Dez in shock. "Ansel Adams?" He shot me one of his rare grins. I barely ever saw him smile, much less grin the way he was then.
"Yeah, you know," he said. "I figured you could see what photography looks like without the flash. Hopefully it'll help you with your work." I couldn't help but smile back at him. We had an inside joke. And even though it was somewhat insulting to me, it was an inside joke that I knew he meant in a sweet way. He had taken something from a conversation we'd had and turned it into a date idea.
We spent the next hour or so walking around the gallery, looking at photography. The gallery was painted all white, and the photographs appeared to have been placed on the wall with great thought. All the photos had their own space, and none overshadowed the pieces the gallery owned. The Ansel Adams photographs were on loan from a private collector, and were quite a bit more expensive and more impressive than the art that was usually displayed at this gallery, but somehow it was all set up in a perfect balance, so that nothing outshone anything else. We perused canyons cut into rocks by now-stagnant water, trees laying crooked shadows on rocks, waterfalls flowing through trees like mist on a cool fall night. The composition of each piece was incredible. Besides being an amateur recreational photographer, I had no interest in the arts. But Adams photography captivated me and made me see some of the beauty in art.
Eventually we found ourselves outside again. It was nearly nine o'clock and the crickets were in full swing, buzzing away to fill the night air with a constant hum. The barn was situated on a well-mown lawn that lead down to a sprawling lake. The other shore was barely visible in the light darkness that is always associated with summer nights, but was probably fairly clear in the daylight. We walked along the grass at the edge of the lake, side by side in the night. It was slightly breezy out, and my hair was gently floating out behind me. I don't know why I remember all the details from that night, but I can't seem to erase them from my brain. We walked in comfortable silence for a little while, but then my curiosity got the better of me.
"So, how did you find this place?" I asked. It was just one of the things that was puzzling me.
"I asked Greta if there was anyone showing Ansel Adams around," he said. "She got on her computer and found this place." Greta was one of the two owners of Paradise's art gallery. Unlike this gallery, our major pieces consisted of high school kid's art projects. But it was part of the town and we all loved it anyways.
I shook my head. "You never stop surprising me, Dez." He smiled unexpectedly again. "What?" I asked. I didn't think I had said anything.
"You called me Dez," he said, still smiling like a little boy.
"Well, yes, that is your name," I replied, not sure why that was such a big deal.
"You've never called me by my name before." I thought back to all the conversations we'd had. There had to be at least one time when I had said his name. I had said it in conversations with other people, like Charlie and the bunheads, but I couldn't think of a single time I had said it to Dez's face.
"I guess you're right." I looked up into his face, trying to figure him out. He was somewhat of a mystery to me. All this time, I've thought of him as the big dopey guy who was friends with Charlie. But then he goes and takes me to see Ansel Adams and walk along the side of a lake in the moonlight. If there's anything more romantic than that, I challenge Hollywood to write a romantic comedy about it. I didn't think there was anything that could have made me any happier at that moment.
Dez reached down and grabbed my hand, twining our fingers together.
I stood corrected.
The heat of his hand was warming my body, from my fingertips up my arm and slowly reaching every part of my body. I wasn't upset, but it almost felt like he was comforting me. I felt safe with him.
I was so distracted trying to understand his motives that I didn't notice he'd shifted closer, until I could feel the heat emanating from his body all along the front of mine. I was tall, but I still had to tip my head back slightly to see his face. He wasn't overly tall, but his body was covered in bulky yet toned muscle. There I was, distracted again. He took that moment to lean down the scant inches needed and place his lips over mine.
It was a pleasant kiss, our lips touching gently for a few seconds. He didn't try to deepen it or pull me closer. I hadn't expected a kiss like that from a boy like him, who looked like he didn't have a gentle bone in his body. Too soon, in my opinion, he pulled back and looked down at me. We stood like that for a minute, our fingers still intertwined, my body resting lightly against his. Then he smiled slightly. "Just wanted to get that over with."
He stepped back and began walking again, practically tugging me behind him. I was so stunned I didn't realize we were back at his car again. "We're going home?"
"Sort of," he smiled at my confusion. "I'm going home." Great, more riddles. Couldn't he just spit out what the hell we were doing? Though I knew part of the appeal for Dez was seeing my reaction when he revealed something new to me.
Not long after, we were back in Paradise, pulling into Dez's driveway. "Please don't tell me you expect me to stay here tonight." I warned.
He laughed. It was more of a rumble than an actual laugh, and the sound had roughly the same effect on me that his hand had. "No, we're here for food."
"Food? It's ten o'clock."
"Well, if you don't want to eat it now, you can take it home."
"I thought we were going out for Italian." I was surprised we were back at his house.
"Why would you think that?"
"Well, a few days ago, you asked what kind of food I like, and I said Italian."
"Good logic, but no." He pushed open his front door and let me inside. Instantly, I was hit with the heavenly aroma of my favorite but banned food: spaghetti in alfredo sauce. Madam Fanny had a strict no carbs rule. Not that any of us actually adhered to it, but it was a delusion we let Fanny have.
"Spaghetti with alfredo?" I asked suspiciously, wondering if he had talked to Charlie to find out what my favorite food was.
"Yep." He struggled with a smile and lost. I could tell he was extremely proud of himself.
"How did you know?"
He stepped up in front of me and grabbed my hand. "I know everything about you, Mel."
In that moment, it was the perfect thing to say. We could end up dating and then break up and I'd think it was extremely creepy, but there was nothing better he could have said to me then. If I was a girl prone to melting, I would have melted. But I have more backbone than that, so I settled for a smile. "Really?"
"You might think this is recent," he began. "And it might be for you. But for me, I've liked you for a while, Melanie."
Okay, I hate to say it, but I melted then. I felt like a complete cliche, but I did it anyways. Dez was just a bunch of surprises, and while I knew he'd never be what I expected, I never thought it would be in a good way. Which just made everything that much more surprising and exciting. I glanced around the room, trying to get a better sense of Dez by his house. But my eyes landed on a clock and I realized that I had ballet tomorrow, and Fanny would not be happy if I was late.
"I hate to say this," I said. "But I have to get home. I have to be up in time for ballet tomorrow."
"It's fine." I saw he truth of that statement in his eyes. He really didn't mind. Which only won him more knight in shining armor points. "I'll drive you home."
Even though our night had been cut somewhat short, the quiet car ride through the night was the perfect end to the perfect date.