Darius & Chayla - Trust Me

I didn’t know where to begin so I just picked up where I left off on my last teaser with Darius and Chayla. Here, Darius convinces Chayla to invite him in but doubts overwhelm him and before he can’t back out, Darius comes face to face with Chayla’s mother.

DARIUS POV

“Chayla.” I grabbed her by the shoulders. She wouldn’t look up at me until I gently tucked a finger under her chin and tilted her head upward. In her eyes were worry, fear and hopelessness but something else too. There was curiosity. Curiosity for us, tonight, me, I couldn’t tell which, but I wanted to find out. I knew that if I didn’t reassure her, she’d turn me away and I’d be home alone wondering. 

“Chayla,” i breathed her name again, closing the gap between us. “We’re friends right?” She nodded. “And you trust me right?” She paused but nodded again. “So do you trust that this friend wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or mess up this evening?”

“But—”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she said slowly, as though unsure. Then she squared her shoulders, a serge of determination blazed in her eyes. “Yes.” 

“Then ring the doorbell and let’s go in.”

“Right.” She pulled away from my hold, turning towards her front door as she rang the doorbell. 

A bing bong resounded throughout the house and I could hear someone shuffling towards the door. That meant they must have been wearing houseslippers, which meant they were comfortable for the evening. I had been having so much fun with Chayla, I hadn’t realized that the sun had gone down. Though it was probably only seven o’clock, Chayla’s parents were probably already tucked in for the night, which meant they weren’t expecting visitors, which meant they wouldn’t want visitors this time of night. 

“You know what–” 

But before I could back out the door flew open and there stood Chayla’s mom. She reminded me of Claire Huxtable. She had wispy hair that was pinned into a neat and tight bun, with a swoop curving to the left side of her face. She wore a cream colored blouse tucked into her navy slacks with what appeared to be camel colored moccasins on her feet. I knew someone as put together as Chayla’s mom would not wore those to work, but it just made her all the more intimidating. Even her houseshoes were professional looking. 

“Hi, I’m Darius.” I stuck my hand out, trying to make a good impression. “You must be Mrs. James.”