Nothing More (Landon Gibson 1)
I feel slightly embarrassed by her attention, but at the same time, it feels really good to have my hard work noticed. I’ve changed my entire body over the last two years, and I’m glad she seems to appreciate it. She was always the prettier one in our relationship, and maybe my new physique will make her want to touch me more, maybe even spend more time with me.
It’s a shallow, desperate thought, but it’s all I’ve got right now when it comes to holding on to Dakota.
She’s even more beautiful now than she used to be, and I imagine she will continue to grow more and more beautiful as she transforms into a woman. We used to plan becoming adults together. We would have two kids, she said, even though I kind of wanted four. The world felt so different then, and this idea that we could grow up to be anything we wanted seemed so tangible. When you’re submerged in a small town in the Midwest, bright lights and big cities seem so farfetched to most—but they didn’t to Dakota.
She always wanted more. Her mom was an aspiring actress who moved to Chicago to get into a theater production and thereby become a massive star. It never happened; the city stole her soul and she became addicted to the late nights and the things that keep you awake to enjoy them. She never managed to get out, and Dakota has always been determined to do what her mom couldn’t: make it.
She leans closer. Her hair tickles my nose and I sink farther back into the chair.
“Tomorrow my meltdown will seem funny,” she says, sitting back up in her chair, turning the conversation away from me.
And truth be told, I’m glad for it. I tell her I agree that tomorrow everything will look different, better, and that if she needs anything, I’m only a call away.
We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Dakota’s phone starts to ring. As she talks, I push a napkin around the table and then start tearing the paper into little pieces.
Finally, she chirps into the phone, “I’ll be there, save me a spot” and shoves it into her bag. She abruptly stands and throws her bag on her shoulder. “That was Aiden.” She takes a long slurp of her Frappuccino. My chest tightens and I stand up, too. “There’s an audition and he’s going to save me a spot. It’s for an online ad for the academy. I gotta go, but thanks for the coffee—we need to catch up again soon!” She rests her hand on my shoulder when she kisses my cheek.
And after that flurry, she’s gone. Her half-full Frappuccino remains across from me, mocking my loneliness.