It’s Not A Date

Summary: Afraid to give in, Daphne refuses to admit her feelings for Hamid while Annabelle has an intriguing encounter with a stranger.

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Daphne went to each one of her classes, just like she did every day since she enrolled at Cornell University to study History of Art. Usually, she was one the best students, always taking notes, making insightful remarks, engaging on all kinds of extracurricular activities to be as occupied as possible and avoid thinking about her ex-boyfriend walking down the campus with his new girlfriend. However, during that particular day after Halloween, Daphne was quieter, distracted, lost in her own thoughts. As she walked towards the cafeteria to have lunch, she mused at the events of the previous night.

When Daphne opened the door to the cafeteria, Briar immediately spotted her and waved, signaling for her to join her at the table. During her early teens, Daphne realized that having lunch at the cafeteria of her school wasn’t any different from any social gatherings her grandmother and stepmother obligated her to attend. There was always a group of people she had to impress, her small group of friends, another one she would prefer to ignore and the mean girls’ group. In both situations, the latter was led by Felicity Holloway and her minions, Theresa Sutton and Donna Bowman.

In college, however, things were easier. The same group of mean girls somehow managed to follow her overseas, but there were no longer obligations to impress anyone, no relatives pushing her to socialize and have proper manners and her group of friends was bigger and more diverse. Even though she missed her father and stepbrother, the university campus felt each day more like home than Edgewater.

“But the trick is to loosen up. Your whole body goes with the flow,” Briar made a gracious gesture with her hands that spread along her body like a soft wave.

“Nice moves, Bri,” Bartholomew praised as Artur hungrily gazed at her.

“Thanks,” she beamed.

“Ah, this is so beautiful. I wish I knew how to dance like that,” Annabelle sighed.

“But that is the beauty of biodanza. These movements will come so naturally once you let go of inhibitions you won’t even notice you’re doing it. Come to the session, I know you’ll like it.”

“You know what? I’ll do it,” Annabelle smiled.

“Me too. This actually sounds more fun than watching the basketball practices,” Bartholomew enthused.

“Why do you go to basketball practices anyway?” Annabelle queried.

“To look at tall and sweaty guys,” Bartholomew winked as Annabelle gave him a sideways glance and Luke chortled.

“Luke?” Briar gave him a pleading look.

“Sorry, Bri. I’ll be on the practice Bartie here doesn’t think it’ll be fun,” he replied, patting his friend shoulder. “Maybe on the next session?”

“Okay, you’re safe this time. I’m not even asking you because you can’t miss it,” Briar turned to Arthur and kissed him on the cheek. “Hey, Daph, are you coming to biodanza session with us?”

She didn’t respond. She barely said two sentences during lunch. Daphne spent most of the time admiring the trees outside, daydreaming or glancing at her phone.

“Daphne?” Luke furrowed his brows.

“Well, I say she’s coming with us, like it or not,” Briar commanded.

“She isn’t even listening to us. What’s up with her today?” Annabelle asked.

“She’s thinking about a certain Turkish prince,” Briar winked.

“You don’t mean a prince as in an actual heir to a throne, do you?” Bartholomew inquired confused.

“Of course she doesn’t. There’s no such thing as a Turkish prince. Turkey is a republic country for almost a century,” Annabelle rolled eyes.

“But the thing is that he is a descendant from the Turkish sultans, so technically he is a prince. And he must be a pretty good one. I mean, look at her. They’ve been texting all morning and she can’t stop checking the phone to see if he replied,” Briar nudged her friends to look at Daphne glancing at her phone, putting it back on her shoulder bag only to pick it up and look again.

As her friends continue to talk, Daphne contemplated at the view outside the cafeteria when her phone buzzed. “Hello?”

“Hello, little angel,” Hamid answered, his sweet voice making Daphne relax. “Sorry I didn’t answer your texts sooner. Politicians talk too much. How are you?”

“I’m fine, thanks. How about you? Did you survive the meeting?”

“Barely, but thanks to you, I managed to have a good morning.”

“To me?”

“Yes, the green smoothie and your funny texts have saved this poor foreign diplomat from dying of boredom,” his voice sounded lower and enticing. Daphne immediately blushed and her friends began to mock her, giggling, pretending to swoon and making kissing sounds. “What is that noise?”

“I’m having lunch in the cafeteria with my friends and they’re being jerks,” she said, throwing bread crumbs at Briar, who dodged the attack giggling.

“I’d like to meet them,” he added.

“I don’t know about that.”

“Why not?”

“Because if they keep being as stupid and annoying as they are right now, you’re gonna have to help me finding new friends,” she glared at them covering their mouths to muffle their laughter.

“Sounds doable to me,” Hamid chuckled. “Anyway, as a thank you for saving me this morning, I’d like to invite you to watch a movie. I have a friend who studies Film and he said tonight there are going to exhibit some 80’s classics.”

“Really? Which ones?”

“Footloose, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, The Breakfast Club… They’re going to exhibit movies until 4 am.”

“Those movies are great. Count me in.”

“First movie starts at 8:45. Can I pick you up at eight?”

“Yes,” she couldn’t help but smile.

“Terrific. I’ll see you at eight.”

“See you then.” She hung up, staring at her phone and smiling to herself. She barely knew him, but for some reason she couldn’t quite fathom, there was something about him that made her heart skip a beat.

“Soooo… You’re going to see him again, huh?” Briar’s voice pulled Daphne out of her reverie.

“Didn’t you meet him yesterday? What’s with the rush?” Annabelle grumbled.

“He works fast. I respect that,” Luke acknowledged.

“When is your date with the Turkish prince charming?” Bartholomew wiggled his eyebrows.

“First of all, it’s not a date. Second, Stop calling him that. And third, it’s tonight at eight.”

“You can’t go. We have biodanza session. We’re all going,” Briar ordered.

“I never agreed to this,” Daphne protested.

“Daph, please, come with us. It’ll be fun and you will be so relaxed and ready to date,” Briar begged.

“It’s not a date!” Daphne hissed.

“Uh huh,” Bartholomew rolled eyes grinning.

Luke elbowed Bartholomew and added. “Doesn’t the session end at seven? I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to get ready.”

“Not when you have Miss ‘unsolicited fashions critiques and advice’ as roommate,” Daphne rebuked.

“My choice of costume for you made you pretty and got you your Turkish prince charming in less than one hour at the party last night, do not forget that,” Briar folded her arms.

“Stop calling him that!” Daphne growled.

“Enough!” Annabelle spatted. “Briar, settle down. She’s going, I’m going, we’re all going,” she reasoned before turning to Daphne. “We’re going to have dinner after the biodanza session and you’ll go home and have the apartment Briar free so you can dress as you see fit for the occasion. We’ll stop calling him Prince Charming as soon you introduce him to us and not a minute sooner. And the jury in this table will decide tomorrow at lunch if it’s a date or not right after you give us the details.”

“That is ridiculous,” Daphne barked.

“That’s how we work and you know it. Suck it up. Now let’s finish our meals before we get late,” Annabelle declared and the table went silent for several minutes.

“You guys are paying,” Briar mumbled and the three men looked at each other chuckling.

“Okay, this is weird,” Annabelle scrutinized the dimly lit room filled with patchouli scent in the air.

“Can you not judge the book by the cover?” Briar scowled removing her shoes putting them on a rack by the door. “Shoes!” She yelled at her friends, who exchanged wary glances but obliged without saying a word.

“She could’ve at least have told us we were about to enter a hipster sanctuary,” Bartholomew mumbled and Daphne elbowed him.

A tall slender middle-aged woman entered the room and gathered the people in a demicircle. “Welcome. My name is Ruth and you’ll about to embark on a journey to find your true self. The first hour we will in smalls and in the last one we will work in pairs. We don’t need warm-ups, choreographies or worry about how the class will go. Our goal is to live the here and now. Relax and let the rhythm guide you,” she minced across the room and turn on the music player. A lively yet slow pace experimental song come out of the speakers and the people began to spread all over the place, moving aimlessly around the room.

During the first hour, Annabelle, Arthur, Bartholomew, Briar and Daphne danced together between hushed chats, giggling and many shushing noises coming from almost everyone in the class. But as the song changed marking the moment where the session would go from group activities to pairs, Briar and Arthur began to dance together and Bartholomew promptly laced his arms with Daphne, leaving Annabelle by herself.

Bart and Daphne mouthed “sorry”, but Annabelle glared at her friends and walked away, heading towards a corner when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around rest to find a petite brunette woman smiling at her. The woman’s hand ran down Annabelle her arm at the same pace of the song, then grasped her hand and squeezed it gently, guiding her to the side of the room next to the window.

The stranger shimmied her hips to the beat of the song, her hands drawing imaginary waves in the air. Annabelle watched the woman dance mesmerized by her carefree yet elegant movements. Her sand skin glowed with sweat, but she smelled like flowers. She smiled at Annabelle and held her hand, encouraging her to dance.

Following the woman’s lead, Annabelle swayed into the rhythm, her eyes never leaving her the stranger’s. She didn’t have any complaints about her life lately, but at that moment, dancing with that woman she had never seen before, she felt lighter, peaceful, alive. And she had never met someone who could make her feel like that without saying a word. Before she knew, the session was over.

“Thanks for the dance,” the woman said softly.

“Thank you…”

“Veronica,” the woman added and walked away, then stopped to look back over her shoulder. “See you next class, Annabelle.”

Annabelle froze, staring blankly at the door.

“So, did you guys like it?” Briar chirped, her arms wrapped around Arthur as everyone gathered around.

“So much fun,” Bartholomew cheered.

“Pretty cool. But I have to go now. I’ll see you all tomorrow,” Daphne replied, quickly hugging everyone and startling Annabelle. “Ann?” She eyed her friend bemused.

Annabelle blinked a few times then recomposed herself and returning the hug.

“And you said I was distracted today,” Daphne teased.

“She’s probably still on trance from the class,” Arthur grinned.

“Sure…”  Bartholomew said, exchanging glances with Daphne and smiling.

Annabelle rolled her eyes then turned to Daphne. “I hope you have fun on your date with your prince.”

“If I have as much as you did with Veronica, I’ll definitely call it a date,” Daphne whispered.

Annabelle went pale as her friend kissed her cheek and waved goodbye.

The soft beat of a pop song played on the portable speaker whilst Daphne put on a pair of earrings when her doorbell rang. She ran across the apartment barefoot to answer it. “Yes?”

“Good evening, Miss Wang. Mr. Osmanoğlu is here to see you.”

“Shit, I’m late…” she mumbled.

“What?” The concierge asked.

“Sorry,” Daphne smacked her forehead. “Yeah, you can send him in. Tell him I’ll leave the door open,” she replied and running back to her room.

Hamid opened the door and scanned the surroundings for a moment. The living room had a minimalist yet elegant decoration and a few books on the coffee table. On the sideboard, a glass sculpture of a couple dancing and above it, a watercolor painting of a tall Caucasian man and an Asian woman in a chic white dress who reminded him of Daphne. He smiled musing at the painting when a scent of roses enticed his senses.

“I’m glad someone appreciates my paintings. My stepmother didn’t like it much,“ Daphne said coming out of her room.

Hamid smiled at the sound of her voice. “Not everyone likes watercolor paintings, but I think it’s–” he trailed off as he turned around to see Daphne in a green long sleeve sweater, dark blue jeans, brown boots and her hair pulled into a side braid. “You look… Wow,” he praised.

“Thank you. You look pretty nice too when you’re not dressed as a Greek god,” Daphne’s eyes marveled at Hamid in a white shirt, black leather jacket and black trousers.

“You flatter me, little angel. Shall we go?”

She nodded and they left the apartment towards the elevator. The ride to the drive-in theater was short. He parked in the center of the parking lot and opened the windows.

Daphne stared in awe at the perfect view of the large screen. “This spot is great and we didn’t even have to arrive early. You must be very well connected.”

“Eighties movies night was my best friend’s idea and I helped making it happen. I guess it’s only fair I earned a nice spot,” he winked. “I’m going to buy some snacks. Do you want something?”

“Yes, popcorn and a soda,” she picked up her purse.

“Don’t worry about that.”

“But we should split the bill. I mean, this is not a date. We’re two friends watching a movie together. I should pay for my part.”

“Well, I invited you and I say it’s my treat. You paid for most of the drinks the drinks last night.”

“No, I didn’t. You gave your credit card to the cashier before I could find mine in my purse.”

He chuckled. “You’re very slow when you’re drunk. The cashier was growing old there.”

“Hey!” She glared at him.

“Daphne, it’s fine. I’ll let you pay next time if you’re fast enough.”

“Hamid, I don’t want you to pay for everything.”

“Alright, I get it. But then again, I said I wanted to repay you for helping me deal with my hangover. If you didn’t send me the smoothie recipe, a preposterous international bill that could ruin my country’s economy would’ve passed.”

“Really? But we were texting most of the time. I didn’t assume that the meeting was important.”

“It was, but those were the moments I was letting the other people in the room rant about it. And their fights aren’t nearly as amusing as your knowledge on memes,” he grinned.

“Oh my god,” she covered her eyes with one hand.

“I mean it. You might think it’s silly, I’d probably died out of boredom if I paid attention to any of the discussions during the meeting if you weren’t talking to me. Popcorn and a few candy bars are small prices to pay considering you helped me achieve today. So… Is that all you want now or can I get you anything else?” He asked smiling softly.

Why is his smile so alluring? Ugh! “A soda.”

“Alright, I’ll pick up our orders,” he said leaving the car. On his way, he was stopped by a few people.

“Osman, my dude! Nice car,” a tall blond man said as he approached and they talked briefly. From his way to the checkout counter and back to the car, five other people talked to Hamid, including Donna Bowman, who shamelessly flirted with him. Daphne took off the seatbelt and watched Hamid flash his impeccable smile to everyone who talked to him.

Man alive! How many people is he going to charm before the movie starts?

Hamid made his way back to the car, carrying a tray with a large popcorn bucket, two sodas, candy bars and licorice.

“I didn’t tell me you were you’re so popular,” Daphne commented as she grabbed her cup of soda.

“I am not. Most of these people just know what I do for a living and think their compliments will get them something,” he replied taking a piece of licorice stick.

“You deal with the attention so easily. I can barely handle my classmates asking for my notes before an exam.”

“So you’re popular too, huh?” He jested.

“They just want to copy my notes because I’m the class president,” Daphne shrugged.

“Sure… That is exactly why your classmates go to you. Notes,” he smirked.

“What?”

He chuckled. “I lost count of how many times I used that line in my life. I would’ve probably used the ‘can we go to my place to study?’ on you if our fields of study weren’t so remotely related.”

Daphne shook her hand, feeling her cheeks heat as he gazed at her with a cheeky smile. “Do you always hit on your female friends?”

“When I have friends as beautiful and smart as you, yes. And since you’ve mentioned, I have to ask: do you always kiss your male friends right after you just met them?”

“That didn’t count. You were helping me get away from one really awkward conversation with my ex and his way too blond and mean new girlfriend.”

“What about those five other kisses last night?” Hamid asked, resting an elbow on the passenger seat and staring at her.

“I was drunk and you’re–” Daphne trailed off as she realized how close he was. The fluttering sensation in her stomach increased as his blue eyes met her brown ones and he leaned in, kissing her. Goosebumps formed along her back as his hand caressed the nape of her neck and he nipped her ear. Hamid dotted kisses back to her lips and she melted into his embrace.

He pulled away and smiled mischievously. “Oh, I’m sorry, you were saying?”

Daphne playfully punched him, but he grinned, wrapping his arms around her and turning to the screen to watch the movie. “Just because we kissed, it doesn’t count as a date,” Daphne said quietly.

He cocked an eyebrow. “And pray tell, what would make it a date?”

“Flowers,” she uttered, biting her lower lip discreetly.

“I did think of stealing a few tulips from the embassy gardens this afternoon, but the guards were there. I guess I’ll have to bribe the gardener on our next date,” he jested.

“It’s not–” she was interrupted by another long and slow kiss that left her breathless.

“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t,” he smiled against her lips and turned to look at the screen.

Daphne rested her head on his shoulder, eating popcorn and watching the movie as they relished each other’s company until she fell asleep in his arms.

Published by

lorir_writes

Brazilian fanfiction writer who tells stories about a bunch of kind-hearted pixelated people.

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