Against my better judgement

Chapter 13: Two sides of a coin

In the passing days between the dinner and her upcoming date, her mind grows cautious. She can't help but overthink. What if Miles had only asked her out because her mother told him to? Even if she hadn't, wouldn't it be weird to date her childhood friend? What would his father think? He'd always found her to be a little boisterous. He'd given her more than a few reprimands through the years. Giggling too loud in church. Not acting a lady. Encouraging his otherwise well-behaved son to be just as mischievous as her. And although she'd grown up since then, she couldn't shake the thoughts from her mind.

            And that wasn't even the half of it.

No matter how much she told herself she didn't care, that it didn't matter, that it was in the past, there were always the thoughts of Flip that crept into her mind. The endless comparisons of him and Miles. Flip was taller. Bigger built. Older. Extremely sexual. Kept his thoughts tucked way somewhere deep inside she'd never managed to find access to. Miles was the different. Still taller than her, but nowhere near Flip's towering height. Not muscled enough to intimidate, but enough to assure he could hold his own. A hopeless romantic. His mouth was a thoughtless funnel straight from his brain, thoughts coming out as they entered his mind. Though it sometimes got him in trouble, she liked that about him. And then there was the obvious difference...

           Miles was a man of colour.

A man who shared her race, her culture, her religion. The topic of racism would never be foreign to him, the atrocity of her experiences would never shock him, for he would have his own. She wouldn't have to worry about her mother's opinion, the thoughts of her friends, the judgement of other black strangers on the street. She could welcome him into her house without second thought, leave the back door in her memories. She could remain at ease in his familiarity. Knowing there were conversations they would never need to have. Explanations that didn't need making. And yet, that doesn't bring her the comfort it should. The colour of their skin doesn't determine their compatibility. For all she knows, he could be the lesser of two options. Other people's opinions and shared experiences don't mean anything if they're not right for each other. She knows that. It's those thoughts that carry her right up until the moment she next sees Miles.

            "Evenin' lady," he flashes her a dazzling smile from the comfort of her front porch.

One of his arms rests against her door frame, a white, thick-collared, woollen shirt worn underneath his navy jacket. She notices his hair looks slightly shorter than the last time he saw her, he's neatened up. He looks handsome. She gulps, reminding herself that there's no need to be nervous. She's known him her whole life. Act cool, she tells herself.

            "Look at you, all dressed up." She muses.

            "I could say the same about you."

He waves a finger towards her outfit; a fitting, brown-patterned dress with a high neckline. The swirling pattern does wonders for her shape, shades of lighter brown spanning across her body. It's a little tighter than she remembers, and admittedly if it wasn't for his promptness, she would have found something else to change into for worry of looking too overdressed. It's the most dressed up he's ever seen her outside of Thanksgiving, and even then, he's never seen her in anything this... sensual.

            "Couldn't have you looking better than me," she teases, grabbing her coat and stepping out into the night.

Even if it weren't for the clothes, he wouldn't be able to take his eyes off her. Her hair is done up in neat curls, a light coat of mascara on her lashes, a chestnut shade on her lips. When she smiles, he feels all sense leave his mind.

            "I don't think there's any risk of that tonight." He assures her, extending his arm for her.

She can't help but admire his chivalry as she wraps her arm around his, follows his careful steps across her porch, mindful not to trap her heels between the wood. Something about his company feels right. Their footsteps carry them part way down the sidewalk before they come to a slow in front of a shiny Ford Cortina. Though it's been treated well, it's showing signs of its wear. It's his father's old car, the sight of it launches her into nostalgia.