What's The Worst That Could Happen?

And She Will Be Loved

"Wait, your jacket!" Darren simply waves my comment off with a flick of his hand.

"Keep it. I'll pick it up the next time I see you. Now you won't have any excuse. Go on a date with me or I'll accuse you of theft." He threatens.

"I might pick the jail sentence." I retaliate, before rolling up the car window and starting up the engine. I take a deep breath, and buckle up, before pulling out of the driveway.

There's no doubt in my mind. I'm going to take that second date.

And I did. Darren called the very next day and asked me out for coffee. 

 He did end up getting that jacket, and he ended up with a girlfriend as well.

That date led to another, and another, and another. It was whirlwind of candlelight dinners, movie dates, Scrabble nights, and kisses. It's as if God pulled out his pencil, sat down to write me a fairy tale. I was an avid fan of the novel so far. I'm not going to lie, and say I hadn't had my doubts about him. More than once I brought up to Darren that I wasn't the kind of girl that he could just play around with - a toy to be put aside. No matter what I threw at him, and how many defenses I tried to build up, Darren stuck around. Two months after our first meeting we were in my living room, reading books in contented silence, Darren asked me to go steady and I said yes. I remember holding onto him tightly that night as we laid together in my bed, snuggled up. He asked me if anything wrong, and I shook my head, "No." I couldn't tell him that I was holding onto him so tight because I was afraid to let go and lose him, too shocked that he could see me for all quirks and faults and still want to be committed. Time passed, and I couldn't hold onto my reservations about Darren. 

But, It wasn't just the romancing, charisma, and sculpted face that drew me in. It was deeper than that.

So much deeper.

I would look up, sometimes, and catch him staring at me as if I was the only thing that mattered. It was the little things he did. Like when he would grab my hand and hold onto it, lightly stroking my knuckles. I couldn't resist the way he made me feel when he'd sneak up behind me, grab me around the waist, and kiss me on the cheek as he gave me a little squeeze. I could no longer ignore the fact that just the sound of his voice was enough to make me giddy.

The first person I told about our relationship was Jora, and she was ecstatic. Jora flung her baby laden self on me, and with a high pitched scream urged me to, "Hurry up, and make a baby." I assured her that that thought wasn't going to enter my mind for a long while. I told my mother over the phone and she squealed, telling me how she'd been saving clippings from wedding magazines for the longest while. She wanted to start going over color schemes. Darren won Jora's approval, and she even proposed that we trade beaus. 

It's been five months since we became official, and we are sill going strong. I can breath a deep breath of contentment, because I'm assured that Darren isn't going anywhere. He certainly isn't a Ken doll. He has a competitive streak; persistent to a fault; a daredevil; and he has a flair for the dramatic. We are so different in many ways.   Despite our class, and cultural differences our desire for another allows us to overcome small obstacles.

Currently, we're in my small and cozy apartment. We spend the weekend at each other's apartments and it's his turn to visit. We spend as much time as we can during the week, but between our schedules that doesn't leave much "us" time. So I look forward to the weekends where we can take it easy, being that we both end our shifts earlier than on the weekdays. I am sitting on a stool at the kitchen island, stirring cupcake batter.