Page 36 of Dirty Daria
Oh! Maybe jerk Reed is gone, and charming Reed is here.
“It was stupid of you to come here today, Quinn.”
Or not.
“It was stupid of you guys to leave me out.”
“There is nous guysorleaving out. There is me and Mack. That’s it. Whatever fucked up shit he’s got going with Daria is on him. But she is not in the FBI, we are not part of ateamwith her, she owns a fucking bar, for god’s sake.” He scoffs, like owning a bar is not a totally cool thing to do.
“Daria works her ass off.” No matter how much I love Reed, I’m defending Daria to the death.
“I’m not saying she doesn’t. But there’s a substantial difference between schlepping burgers and beers and bringing down criminals.”
I laugh before I have a chance to stop myself. If only Reed knew that Daria has brought down ten times as many criminals as he has. And that she could kick his ass. But, just so we’re clear, her doing so would in no way detract from his attractiveness to me. I would still think he’s the sexiest man alive.
“What’s so funny?” he asks.
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“Nothing. For real. I, um, was just picturing a fight between you and Daria.” I only halfway lie.
“And that was funny to you? There’s nothing funny about violence against women, Quinn. If Daria and I were in a real fight, she would be hurt. I would injure her.”
The part of me that is Daria’s best friend really wants to correct him on this. Instead, I lie a little more completely and say, “In my little daydream, Daria was a sumo wrestler. So you two were more evenly matched. She sat on you.”
That seems to lighten his mood and he laughs. The band starts another song, and it’s one where you could fast dance slowly or slow dance a little faster. But Reed doesn’t change our pace, he just keeps going slow, leading us to the edge of the dance floor so we aren’t in the way. At first I think he might be ready to stop, but I’m wrong. Meaning that Reed and I have now danced two full songs and are working on our third.
I sigh with happiness and lay my head against his shoulder.
“I like you in my arms, Quinn.”
My heart stops.
Literally.
Heart seizes, lungs quit, all vital organs shut down. I’m dead, in heaven, and this is what it’s like. It’s being in Reed Robert’s arms and having him tell me he likes me there.
“Thank you for dancing with me,” he continues.
Thank you? He’s thanking me? Ohmigod, how cute is that?
“It’s my pleasure.”
Smoothness, Quinn. Nicely done.
I can’t wait to tell Daria about this. Reed likes me. I’m sure of it. I wish he would kiss me. Weddings are so romantic. I love everything about them. Especially the dancing. And the cake. What kind of wedding cake should Reed and I have at our wedding? I wonder if he would like me better in a princess style dress or something form fitting?
I know, it’s a little fast, that’s just how my brain goes. Zero to sixty in two point five seconds. No getting to know one another, no courtship, no long engagement. Just two and a half dances and I’m taking his name and having his babies.
Oh, babies!
Just as I open my mouth to ask him if he wants kids, he says, “I need another drink.” And with that, he pushes me from him slightly and heads in the direction of the bar, leaving me alone at the edge of the dance floor.
It does not bode well for the success of our marriage if Reed would rather drink than dance. He’s going to have to put a little more effort into this to keep me happy. Happy wife, happy life. And a happy life means dancing.
I follow Reed to the bar, hoping that after another drink we can hit the floor again and I can resume planning our future in my mind. Only when I get there and take my seat next to him, I can see that Reed isn’t quite himself all of a sudden. And I’m not sure what to do.
