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“Who?” I ask.
“My friend, remember?” she answers with sass.
“Do you have a name for this friend?”
“Umm. I think it starts with an A,” she responds, and I can’t help but let out a small giggle.
“You don’t know your friend’s name? Haven’t you been in school for almost a whole school year now?” I joke with her as I poke her shoulder.
Kids around us start to run around the different grade decks, and the crowd gets bigger as people wait to let their kids into their classrooms.
“Yeah, but she’s newer and I’m really bad at names.” She looks down to the ground probably feeling insignificant as I just insolently insisted she was a bad friend.
I lean down and press a kiss into her hair to try and remedy my poor choice of words and smile when I catch her blue eyes looking up at me.
I take in the crisp morning air as we wait for her friend to arrive. The weather in Charlotte is nice. March is my favorite month of spring here—not too hot and not too cool, and we have the best rainstorms.
I moved to Colorado when I was eighteen because I got accepted into CU, College of Nursing. And honestly, after my dad’s accident, I wanted to get as far away from the memories of him as possible. Not because I didn’t love him, but because I loved him too much. I was such a daddy’s girl growing up.
I wanted to chase my dreams, whatever they were. Because God knows I didn’t even know what I was searching for…the perfect life? Well, that was all a crock of shit.
“There she is!” Em jumps up and lets go of my hand as she waves excitedly in the direction of several other kids, breaking me from my trance. I can’t quite make out who she’s waving at.
I snap my head in the direction she’s pointing and see a joyous girl with a pink cat with a sparkly unicorn horn on top of its head occupying her arms as she scampers toward us.
It takes only a few seconds for her friend to join us while I nearly get shoved by some fifth graders running down the deck to get to their classrooms. But I maintain balance as Em’s little friend reaches my side.
“OHMYGOSH! It’s so cute!” Em squeals and they both jump up and down together. I let out a little snicker, and they both stop dead to stare me down.
“You makin’ fun of us?” Emsley asks and I hold my hands up in defense, not realizing how seriously they take these squish animals. I don’t remember being that sassy when I was their age.
“No?” I say in question. “But nice cat,” I respond, trying to regain some sister-points.
The little girl standing next to my sister reaches out and pets the stuffed animal now being squeezed by Em’s arms.
“It’s not a cat, goofball. It’s a uni-cat squishy animal.” Emsley rolls her eyes at me as her friend giggles. Sister-points are now in negative, duly noted.
“Your sister is such a weirdo,” the other girl whispers and they both laugh with each other. And while I might feign offense, I’m actually really happy to see my baby sister connecting with another kid.
“That’s not very nice, Aria.” A deep voice spills in waves of silk from behind me.
I’m facing the girls; my back is to the voice and I’m afraid to move to look to see who he is. I’ve never been so stunned by the effect of a man’s voice. It was deep, sultry, and far too close to my ears to feign composure. His voice weighed intimidatingly on me for some reason, even though I wasn’t the one it was directed at. I think that’s what heightens my ridiculous reaction to the sound.
I’m assuming it’s this little girl’s dad, considering he just called her by name. I can smell him before I see him. Something like bamboo and mint mixing with the salt from the ocean. And I can tell that he’s tall as he stands behind me; the warmth that radiates from the size of him encompasses me, even though he’s blocking out the morning sun.
“Sorry, daddy.” The little girl gives a pouty lip to the man behind me.
Daddy. Why did my insides just fucking melt?
“I think you need to apologize to…I’m sorry, what’s your name?” He stops speaking almost at the same time as I stop breathing because I realize that he’s talking to me.
Though I’ve developed a bit of a reclusive side since being back home, I’m usually unafraid to converse with anyone, including strangers, thanks to my uninhibited and boisterous persona. But today, right now, I can’t seem to open my mouth. Not with the man standing behind me smelling like a God from the sea. Nerves swarm me and I can’t seem to fathom something as simple as the English language.
But I ground myself, realizing how doltish my reaction is, and I do my best to turn around, biting my lip in anxiety as I face the horribly handsome man who towers over me. Seriously, he’s got to be at least six feet tall and my goodness is he strikingly beautiful.
“My name?” I stutter helplessly.
“DJ,” my little sister speaks up from below us. “I don’t know why my sissy is being weird, but her name is DJ.” Her eyes speak volumes as she widens them at my foolish behavior.
