stranger

five

SHE TASTED IRON IN HER MOUTH. Blood. Her lips were slightly bleeding from the constant biting for the past two hours. She sat in front of her vanity mirror longer than usual, trying to put the perfect curve of black eyeliner. Frustrated, she gave up and let the wing of her eyeliners uneven between the left and the right eye. Now she began to think that her left eye was smaller than the right.

He won't notice, she said to herself. Hopefully.

It was Saturday evening, two weeks after colliding with Francis at the pub. They were sending a few messages in the morning to start the day and in the late night to say goodnight. Saoirse had this weird habit ever since, checking her phone every hour, but refused to send a message first if he didn't respond to the last one. She restrained herself from sending a text of: what are you doing? At the noon. Knowing that he probably wouldn't answer it because he was busy at that hour. Also, she didn't want to look so eager in his eyes. But, her face beamed when finally he texted her around eight at night.

This feeling was new for Saoirse, a rush of joy from texting. A week ago, Francis asked her out saying that she needed to go out more since she cut Tobias out of her life. Saoirse didn't say yes right after he asked, she said she would think about it. That was an attempt to cover her excitement and found her composure before answering.

Her phone chimed, a text from Francis: I'm at the lobby. Saoirse raised from her seat and gathered her belongings in a purse. Her hands were shaky and her heart was ready to explode. She pressed her hands to her chest to calm down her nerve before exiting the room.

The lobby of her dormitory was nearly empty. It was just the woman with chubby cheeks who sat behind the receptionist table and Francis, standing with his one hand in his pocket. Francis was raking his eyes through the enormous room when he soon captured Saoirse's brown eyes. His lips curved to a smile. Saoirse, he greeted.

It's a long way from your place, Saoirse said when she was within his hearing distance.

Not a problem, Francis responded. Ready to go?

She was more than ready. They walked to the exit. The sky was pretty that evening. But that was not the reason why Saoirse's eyes dilated. That wouldn't be yours, she said, eyes couldn't leave a white scooter in front of her.

Francis chuckled at her excitement. I'm afraid that I disappoint you, he said. That's mine.

Saoirse bit her lower lip to prevent herself from squealing. She stepped forward and ran her fingers on the leather seat. This is so cool, she said adoringly.

You want to drive? Francis asked with a suggestive smile plastered on his face.

Saoirse glanced at him then back to the scooter. I... she hesitated for a while. Can I?

Francis fished out a key from his pocket. Sure, he said, handing the key to Saoirse without hesitation.

Saoirse was about to put the key on the ignition but then she backed out. Oh, no, no. I won't do this, she said more to herself. She couldn't imagine if she fell from the scooter. Not just she would scratch her skin but also the beauteous vehicle in front of her. The thought itself made her shiver.

Don't worry, Francis said. My legs are long enough to support us if we fall.

Then she gazed down to his legs. Yeah, and looks strong, she absent-mindedly muttered.

Francis laughed so hard, his head pulled backward. Yeah, strong enough too.

Finally, she sat on the leather seat and ignited the machine. Francis helped her to wear the helmet he brought. Then he wore another helmet while sitting behind her. Relax, he whispered to her. Yet, her shoulders becoming more tensed from their proximity.