In the heart of Sands Street, I stood alone beneath the veil of the night, staring at nowhere in particular, my impatience mounting with every tick of the clock. He had promised and assured me that this time he wouldn't be late. Yet, battling a familiar irritability, I waited on the dark street.
My given name is Ambrosia Dmitri Alphares, a weird name I know, but it was a name with a quirky appeal that reflected my parents' fascination with Greek heritage. Since they couldn't settle on a gender-neutral name for their only daughter among three sons, they gave me a unique and somewhat puzzling name. It was like a reflection of their indecision and cultural fascination rolled into one. Still, to those close to me, "I'm Amber"—well, everyone except my father and two older brothers, that is.
Today required the courage I had been gathering for some time now. I had thought it was finally time to tell Axel the truth about what he'd been nagging me about. But as the minutes passed, I could feel my resolve fading due to Axel's constant tardiness.
The shadows surrounded Sands Street like a dark canvas waiting to be painted with vibrant details. The chilly air and distant city sounds added to the mystique of the moment. Everyone had misconstrued my intentions about Axel tonight. And they were all 'WRONG'.
As I contemplated, I felt my courage slip away like grains of sand through my fingers. I was about to give up when I saw him. Well, not Axel himself, but his car, my emissary of hope.
The car stopped in front of me. Axel stepped out looking as captivating as ever—a mix of uncertainty, but beneath it all, a glimmer of sheer excitement.
It seemed I couldn't hide my irritation because Axel paused for a moment before diving into his usual apologies. Without warning, I demanded answers. "Where have you been? Do you know how long I've been waiting? Have you even checked your phone? Do you—"I paused between my questions, not by choice but because Axel smiled. I looked him with a blend of confusion and annoyance, and his smile broadened. That smile seemed to erase all my grievances.
"I'm so sorry," he started, observing my face before going on with his excuse. "I know I promised, I know, and really, I didn't forget; I didn't—"
"So, why are you late?" I asked, interrupting him.
"Well..." he started, watching my expression again. "Jenny called, and she said she wanted to talk about us."
I watched as his earlier excitement resurfaced. Jenny was the girl he'd been smitten with for a month now. I should have understood what that talk meant to him, but unjustified anger welled up within me. Words spilled from my mouth—words I'd never have uttered, not even in my wildest dreams. Then I retreated to the back seat of his car.
Axel stood there, surprise etched on his face, before returning to his car. We sat in silence for a few minutes before he broke it. "You're probably mad, right?"
"No," I replied with a sarcastic tone. "Genuinely. I'm elated to have stood out in the cold for three hours. Oh, where are my manners? Congratulations! You and Jenny are officially a couple, right?"
Our gazes locked as he turned to face me, and then I added, "Let's go; I'm starving. Or better yet, just take me home. I won't feel so put out, and I can at least grab a bite there."
He looked at me, unsure, like he was about to say something, but I couldn't find the words. I saw the excitement fade from his face, and the courage I had mustered slipped away, this time without a specific exit. He stared at me for a few more seconds, yet I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes. I had said things I didn't mean.
After what felt like forever, he turned to start the car's engine, only to turn it off once more. Then he faced me and said, "Please, don't be vague—just tell me where you want to go." His tone was serious, and I gave an answer that would later haunt me."Just take me home, please." The last words he directed at me that night were a nearly inaudible "fine."
I sank into the seat, surrendering to a growing sense of regret. I knew I should apologise right then and there, as it would only get harder over time, but the words eluded me. I sighed in self-pity, quietly agonizing over my self-inflicted torment.
We reached my father's house in no time. Axel parked his car right in front of our yard—something he never did. He walked me to the front door, lingered in thought for a moment, then turned and retraced his steps to his vehicle, offering neither a word nor a "good night."
I stood at the door watching his car disappear into the darkness. I sighed, walking through the door, mentally constructing an excuse I would tell my father in explanation for my late arrival. To my surprise, my older brother, Rave, sat on the other side of the door, grinning as I entered. Anticipating my unspoken question, he said, "He's already asleep. I came home exhausted," answering my unasked question.
I mustered a feeble smile. "A rough night?" he asked.
I couldn't respond, but a stiff nod sufficed. As I went up the stairs to my room, he remarked, "I'm going to kill that kid one day."
Pausing, I looked at him, trying to muster my most serious questioning look. He met my stare with a grin, replying, "Just kidding. No one would dare harm your 'boyfriend,' right?"
I couldn't help but smile, still feeble but more genuine than before. Seeming to have gotten the reaction he wanted, he added, "Freshen up. You look like you've had quite a night." I smiled once more, still faint, and proceeded up the stairs to my room. I rushed to my bed, seeking refuge from the whirlwind of my thoughts…