FOR A LATE EVENING IN January, it was surprisingly warm. Of course, Darren had gotten used to the snowy winter in Scotland in the few weeks he'd spent across the pond, and yet he'd underestimated the difference in weather between Florida and Scotland. He thought to himself that, if it wasn't for pictures, the Jacksonville people wouldn't know what snow looked like.

He'd driven through the dimly lit streets of Jacksonville, and his heart beat a little faster when he recognized some of the places. The McDonald's where he and Dakota had stopped on that first night they'd met each other, the school where they regularly saw each other – not daily, because he knew now that Dakota couldn't be tied to a schedule, but often enough – and Juice, the bar where Dakota worked and that was just as colorful as her personality.

As he searched for a parking spot to leave the McCosta's car, the navigation system told him he'd arrived at his destination. He'd pulled up to a little flower shop, cramped between other small stores that populated the street. None of them looked particularly nice or like a store Darren would be happy to go shopping to, but now that he stood here on a late evening and the moon was starting to show itself against the otherwise clear, dark blue sky, the street had its charm.

Dominic had written to Darren that next to the flower shop was a little alleyway, and if he entered that alleyway, the right address was the first door on his right. Why do you want to know? Dominic had asked then, but Darren hadn't replied. If all went well tonight, he figured, Dominic would find out soon enough.

He rang the doorbell as a cool breeze swept through the alleyway. He kept his eyes on the entry of the alleyway where he'd come from. The other side was a dead end, and although he trusted Dominic to have given him the right address, he didn't trust the strangers that hung out in neighborhoods like this. He had the nasty feeling that at any moment someone would come up from behind him.

That didn't happen, however; disappointingly few happened in the seconds that he waited for someone to answer the door. No footsteps on the other side of the door, no Dakota coming out and yelling at him what he was doing at this time on her doorstep. So, he rang again.

And when that didn't help, he rang again.

His heart began speeding up. Would it really happen to him that after all these days, waiting for this moment, planning what would happen and what he would say to her, no one would be home? He threw his head back and stared up at the sky, whose color had a mysterious feel to it and took him back to a certain Friday night that had changed so much.

"Dakota," he cried out, convinced no one would hear his desperation. He looked around him. This wasn't a place he'd think someone would actually live, and he really started to doubt whether Dominic had given him the right address. According to Dakota, he was an honest guy, but what if he'd gotten suspicious and didn't want to give his address to an almost-stranger, so he'd given a random address instead?

"Dakota!"

He was silent. One, two, three seconds. Even the birds quieted down, as if they wanted to give him the opportunity to hear every little thing that happened around him. It brought his attention to a soft click coming from above.

The sound of a window opening.

"What?" Against the dark blue sky, a pale face appeared, and light hair hung as a curtain around her face. Dakota. "Darren?"

The surprise in her voice was precisely what he'd hoped he'd hear. "Y-yes," he said. At this point, he hadn't expected her to show up anymore, so he was surprised too.

"Why are you here?" Dakota asked.

"I just came back from Scotland. I have something to tell you." When he realized he'd be saying the words that he had been mulling over in his mind, his heart picked up its rate.

She frowned, but remained quiet for him to say what he needed to say.

"Come downstairs," Darren said. "I don't want to have to yell."

She shrugged and looked around the alleyway. "Nah. I like it like this."

"Please?"

She just smiled, but didn't make any move indicating she was about to come down. "How did you even find out where I live?"

"Dom."

She clacked her tongue. "Of course. The bastard."

"I just told him I needed to talk to you and that it couldn't wait."

She positioned her elbows in the windows and leaned on them. "So, what are you waiting for? Tell me."

"Actually, I want to ask you something."

She raised her eyebrows in a way that said, "So?"

Darren bit his lip, glanced at his feet, and then looked up at Dakota. "I want to ask you for forgiveness." He raised his voice so she could hear every word for certain. "I shouldn't have reached out to Rebecca without telling you." He swallowed, but she didn't say anything, and the quietness of their surroundings pressured him to say more. "I had the right intentions, and I still believe in that, but I should have told you before I did it. And if you would've told me not to, I should've listened to you."

She just sat still in the window, her expression not changing one bit. A soft breeze played with her hair, but aside from that, she was a statue.

"I kind of forgot what I wanted to say next," he said, fumbling with his hands. "I wanted to write my words down, but you told me not to last time." He breathed out a shaky breath as he tried to recall the words he'd practiced so often.

However, the comment got a reaction out of Dakota. "When?"

"That time in the cafeteria. It was the last time you've spoken to me: I'd written an apology and wanted to give that to you, but Rebecca had contacted you, and you'd gotten really mad over me about that. When I gave you the letter, you tore it into pieces and said that if I had something to say, I should man up and say it, not write it down like a coward for you to read it."

A small smile toyed on her lips. "Well, I don't like reading. You should know that."

He chuckled. "I do know." He rubbed his hands together nervously. "But I just... I think you should know that I'm terribly sorry for the way things went down, and I just hope..." He took a deep breath. "I just hope it won't get in the way of the– the friendship we have."

She tilted her head, as if she was waiting for him to say more, but in reality, he hadn't much more to say than sorry. That was all he'd come here for, right?

Except that now he decided to let his heart speak. "When I came here – a boy lost in a different country, as far away from home as he could be – you welcomed me with open arms. Before I came here, I had been thinking about what it would be like, of course. I had imagined myself walking across the campus of Princeton, studying in big books, finally spending my time only on the things I loved." He hesitated a bit, as if he now realized that the dream he'd had about the States wouldn't come true now that he was deferred from Princeton. "The year before Princeton I had seen as an adventure, a moment to get used to the culture of America before I would immerse myself into my studies and Princeton."

Dakota now just listened intently. Her features had softened, and although it must be tiring to hang out of a window for several minutes, she didn't show it.

"But looking back on that, I don't think I was planning an adventure. The only plan I had was go to school, do homework, and get accepted into Princeton. And it wasn't until I met you that I realized the adventure that I was missing out on."

If the moonlight didn't betray him, he'd think that he'd just witnessed a growing smile on Dakota's face. How long had it been since he'd seen that smile?

"When I came here and you showed me what the States were like, you did more than that. You showed me what adventure is like. What life could be like."

At this point, the words just came to him, and he was rather glad he didn't read them from a piece of paper. Maybe she'd been right about that too: spontaneity was much better than a planned speech.

"I didn't just learn about maths and chemistry, like I thought I would when I came here. I learned what life could be like. That it doesn't have to be this – this daunting thing with huge expectations and immense pressure, but that it's supposed to be fun." He began talking faster, as if it would help him keep up with his mind, which was now only spurting words at him that he should say. There was so much he'd been waiting to tell her, so much to catch up on. "And I had fun."

He let his arms hang along his sides and looked up at Dakota. Only now did he notice his heavy breathing, as if the many talking had tired him. "There's still so much I want to do," he said. "So much of this country to explore, so much of this life to experience. But I can't imagine doing it alone."

Her unreadable expression only made his heart beat heavier. Would she just shut the window and never talk to him again? He'd been surprised by how friendly she'd been when he showed up at her doorstep, but he also knew her mood could change within seconds. She still hadn't said she'd forgiven him, and he didn't know what to say to her to make her do that.

"So?" he asked. His arms hung helplessly on his sides, and he caught some desperation in his voice when it said this single word.

"So?" she repeated.

"Can you forgive me?"

She tilted her head and had a suspicious smile on her face. "Can I..." she began, but her smile growing made her unable to finish that sentence. She seemed to enjoy this.

"Dakota, please," he pressed. "I just need to know." He sighed. "I want to know where we stand." I want to know if we'll ever talk again.

She tilted her head to the left, then to the right, as if she was thinking. "Come to Juice tomorrow."

"Juice?" The smoothie bar?

"At noon."

"Why–"

But she'd already done what he'd been afraid of this entire time: she'd closed the window and didn't show her face again.

I don't know if I should be excited or scared... 😬🤭