In Another Call

Knock knock knock

As soon as Shirley heard the blaring sound from her dorm's wooden door due to a certain chap's knuckle, she immediately averted her eyes from the television screen, straightened her chosen attire of a grey pullover and sweatpants, and hastily stood up from the couch to open the door.

Behind it was a tall young man with hair like honey and eyes of water and earth. His lean built was tugged by a cotton shirt, denim jeans, and the same leather jacket he had on the first time they've met.

"Hey," he said, showing off a toothy grin at the girl that is just inches away from him. She smiled back but it faded as her sight trailed over what his veiny hands held.

"Is that for me?" she asked, her pale cheeks abruptly flushing pink at the view of the sunflower trapped in his clutch.

He shakes his head playfully, then nudges it to Shirley's dorm mate, quietly perched on the couch. Her dark tresses were sticking out every direction as she watches another episode of How I Met Your Mother. "No, they're for Tabitha since she's the one I'm having a date with tonight."

"I heard that," Tabitha shouted back to the two of them and consumed another popcorn from the white bowl that she tugged between her arms.

Shirley punched his shoulder lightly as she giggled.

Clark groaned, rubbing the shoulder that she hit. "What was that for?"

"For being sarcastic and for including innocent people as part of your horrible humor." She replied. "Well, if Tabitha is innocent enough," she added, snickering at the thought of what she said.

"I also heard that!" Tabitha screamed again, a tad louder than the first time.

Shirley and Clark laughed shyly, afraid of giving off an unwanted first impression to each other. Soon after, they bid their goodbyes to Tabitha and walked along the halls of Thornton University's dormitory.

~

As soon as the couple dropped off to their destination, Shirley had her arm wrapped around Clark's, trying to maintain her balance. They walked shortly towards the diner, an infusion of neon lights, the '80s, and junk food.

"Are you alright?" Clark asked his date, reassuring her condition. He gently patted her head with his free hand as an attempt of calming her impulsive breathing.

"I'm alright." The lass grinned at his kind gestures, tightening her grip then releasing his arm. "It's just that I'm not used to motorcycle rides," she confessed to the lad hesitantly, her cheeks suddenly turning a light crimson.

"Don't worry." The lad snickered at her words and stopped to discover her dainty fingertips were now entwined with his veiny hand. "We'll take a cab on our next date."

"So... why?"

"Why what?"

"Why didn't you formally introduce yourself when you had the chance?" The girl asked her date, alternately pulling both strings of her hoodie, an act she's always done when she's anxious. The two were in a diner, sitting at a booth, and warming its red synthetic leather.

"I guess I didn't know how to," the boy answered honestly, a look of embarrassment crossing his features as his eyes gazed intently to hers. "It's different in person and through technology."

Shirley nodded her head in understanding as she displayed a weak smile to him. Clark mirrored her as his fingers tapped on their table, forming an inconsistent rhythm. Then they grew silent, just staring at each other, wondering what was going on each of their minds, what was existing beyond the facade they've exhibited, or if they were even putting up a facade in the first place.