Young Writers Society

James had not been expecting that question and barely suppressing a smile as he looked to the side, directing his gaze away from the fire.

"Oh," he said. "You don't want to hear my opinions on your outfit."

Evaline tried not to glare at him, but it came out that way anyways. "Are you saying I have no sense in style?" she said cooly.

"Evaline. You bought some of the cheapest clothes in the store. It was a choice made out of necessity, and you had limited options. Critiquing your outfit would be like throwing dirt into the food someone made you with the little food they had left," James said, trying to appeal to her with reason. "I'm sure you have a fine sense of style, I just haven't really had a chance to see it yet in our current circumstances."

Evaline listened to him completely roast her outfit, and although she had no reason to feel offended since she was limited by what was available and the money they had—plus, it was an old lady who picked her outfit, not her!—she still felt moderately offended.

What upset her the most, though, was the fact that she wasn't even sure if James would approve of her style if she had been wearing something something normal. Sure, she had a fair amount of clothes to choose from when she was younger, but she never hated the school uniform because a little rebellious side of her wanted to reject every outfit her parents picked for her. And nowadays, she basically wears a thinly-veiled uniform. Did she even have a sense of style?

But still, a sense of stubbornness filled her body as she refused to let him think he felt superior to her in style.

"Wooooow," Evaline sarcastically said, no longer hiding the glare. "Look at you, sooo stylish, not dressed like a peasant at all. Amazing, I should start taking advice from you!"

Was she being a bit dramatic? Maybe.

James did not this fact about himself going in this direction - with Evaline being offended, and him, having to justify himself, though he'd barely said anything about what he actually thought of her outfit. He sighed.

"Look. Evaline. I can have as many opinions I want about how people dress, or how I dress, or about clothing in general, but all of that pales in comparison to what really matters, and that's you and me, staying alive." He leaned forward a little, meeting her eyes with sincerity. "Being able to choose your clothing is a privilege not many have here in Nye, and I would never dream of doling out judgment because of it. Even for those who do have choices, who they are as a person matters infinitely more."

He reached out and hesitated for a moment before putting his hand gently on her knee.

He had words he wanted to say, but he didn't know if they would be cheapened because of the context.

"You are my friend, and what you look like doesn't matter."

He paused, and pulled away, returning his hands to his lap.

"But if it means anything," he started, already wondering whether or not he should say it, like this, at this moment, but he was too far into the thought and honesty won over. "You are beautiful, even when you're sitting by a fire like a wet cat."

Honestly, Evaline was just feeling stubborn and didn't want to admit defeat that she had an inferior style, even though it was likely true. Sure, she was being a bit dramatic with her retorts, and she expected James to fight back, but that was okay.

But it was not okay for him to suddenly take the high road and kill her with kindness.

She listened to him stiffly, listening to his spiel and staring at his hand as he reached out to touch her knee. It felt like he was leading up to something, and even though he warmly called her his friend, it felt like... like he was almost trying to... flirt with her?

She wanted to die a little inside since she didn't know how to respond to any of this, but then he called her beautiful. Beautiful.

Her brain froze and stubbornness suddenly vanished. She couldn't think or react besides just staring at him wide-eyed, feeling her cheeks—no, entire face—burn hot. She was grateful that the warm light tones of the fire could somewhat shield just how embarrassing this whole thing was to her.

Her body lagged, unable to say or do anything, but her mind suddenly raced with a million thoughts a second.

Did he really... was he serious? But... WHAT? She wasn't particularly insecure about how she looked, but hearing that heavy of a compliment from James, of all people—just, what. Maybe it meant nothing, but a little part of her kept thinking that it did mean something.

Maybe... maybe he was serious, and he actually was trying trying to, actually, you know... but, she barely even knew him! But if he was, did that mean... the entire time she knew him...

She felt her heart sink a little as she realized the possibility, and she took a deep shaky sigh, deciding to rub her eyes with her fingers as a way to hide her face.

"One last question," she said quietly with a wavering voice. "Is that the reason why you let me travel with you?"

"What?" James whispered.

James knew in that moment that he had done something wrong. Hundreds of curse words started hurtling through his mind like a shout and he knew it. He knew it. In one moment, he'd ruined everything, and Evaline would probably never feel safe around him again. Forget opening up her heart - he'd just given her plenty of reasons to doubt his motives, and all James could feel was a pit of regret in his stomach, weighing down the panic in his mind.

"No. No! Of course not."

The first night he met her, he had barely been able to make out what she looked like in the dark. His eyesight was terrible at night and barely decent in the day. That had nothing to with why he helped her at all.

He tried to think of something he could say that would be assuring. That could clear away the awkward tension he'd accidentally created, but nothing came to mind.

"Look, I -- I didn't mean to make it sound like -- I was just --"

Hurry up, James, get to the point. Any point. Something.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Not like this. I only meant to be encouraging, but it was stupid of me to think you wouldn't interpret it differently. I hope you can forgive me. For-" he laughed, looking down and burying his face in his hands.

"Gods," he muttered.

Evaline believed him, and her wariness started to fade away, but it didn't mean the awkwardness in the room did too. His remark made her tense enough, but her question seemed to make him even more tense. How did this happen so fast when just a few minutes ago they were dancing under the stars?

"No, it's okay, I believe you," she said, dropping her hands from her face.

She bit her tongue, forcing herself to not say anything more that can make things even more tense between them.

I know you don't have bad intentions.
I just wanted to make sure.
I'm sorry for the awkward question, but it hasn't ruined my trust in you.
Did you really mean it?
Well... I think you're handsome too.

A long awkward silence passed, and quite fittingly, crickets started to chirp in the background.

Evaline fidgeted with her hands and stared at the ground, starting to feel the heat in her cheeks start to disappear, but still lingering. She decided to break the silence.

"Do you, um... want to keep playing?"

James looked up, dragging his fingers down his face until his cheeks were free of them, and he put his hands back in his lap. He smiled, very slightly, and nodded. He hoped as they kept going, they could forget this moment and the tension would fade.

"Sure," he said quietly. "I think it's your turn now."

"Okay," Evaline said, glad that they were moving on from what just happened. "Let me think."

She tapped her fingers on her knee and furrowed her brows as she stared at the fire, trying to think of responses. It was hard to think without a completely clear mind, but finally, she thought of her response.

"I can speak another language. I think about the future a lot. I have never broken a bone."

James didn't think as hard about this one. His mind still felt full to the point of bursting, and he was eager to just move on. No more silences. Not when tension filled them.

"You've never broken a bone," he said. "That's the lie."

Evaline found herself smiling, just a little, but the smugness just didn't feel the same.

"I haven't, actually," she said, still trying to avoid eye contact with him. "The lie is speaking another language. I only know the one and only."

Huh. Only one. He supposed that was common. He was the unusual one, knowing a few. She probably didn't even know of the languages in Nye, though, so he didn't imagine it would be very impressive to her.

"Do people normally speak many languages in your world?"

Evaline couldn't help but let out a small snicker. "Yeah, sorry, that was kind of a trick answer," she said through an apologetic smile. "Because everyone only speaks one language."

She paused, deciding to give a little more information. "I mean, people can speak other languages. I had the opportunity to learn. It's just... I didn't see the point, since they were dead languages."

James let out a small "oh," of genuine interest as he nodded his head. It was kind of hard to imagine languages dying out, but it was very plausible.

Then, a thought occurred to him.

"You know, it's interesting that you and I happen to speak the same language, then, all things considered. I mean, you're from another world. The likelihood of us being able to communicate already seems like it would be really slim, but here we are, talking to each other. Imagine if there was a language barrier. That would make things so much different."