A Doughnut for Day Dunbar

I rose up from my deep nap.

I heard a slightly fierce knock on the door across the living room. It’s around two in the morning and I was muddled by how anyone would come over to my house at such a late hour. I wearily paced my way to the door and unlocked the latch without diving myself to the malicious possibilities of what awaits for me at the door. I honestly do not bother, my mind is exhausted from the voracious reading of essays that I have taken upon interest from my fellow classmates, all thanks to Mr Geoffrey, the English teacher, for compiling and neatly putting them in a brown envelope. I could have consumed my time devouring an archaic word-filled novel, but I rather amused myself with the grammatical mistakes and the erroneous language used, they often rushed their sentences, creating shortcuts. My classmates knew that I’m a literary freak and the thought of me having to read their written works is humiliating for them, but the consequence is granted and it was enough for me to be entertained.

When I turned the knob and merely opened the door, I was greeted by a child-like face with eyes of pure innocence, my nerves were calm and I felt secured on my spot. I recognised her, her name is Day Dunbar, we both took the same English class and she sat beside me in the front row, we rarely converse with one another, she wasn’t much at all shy, but a jovial creature; she is the heart of the universe and perishing her can disseminate malady. It was surprising to see her face-to-face, her nature was pale, but her crimson lipstick adds a layer of beauty to her. She was a lot inches shorter than me and she wore ebony clothing: black long sleeves and black skinny jeans, they almost camouflaged to the background of twilight. Whereas her fragrance was of cinnamon pumpkin-spiced cookies, which perfectly match her ponytailed auburn hair- she was like the season of autumn and the night is embracing her dearly.

“Miss Dunbar, how delightful seeing you,” I said with my monotonic voice. I even showed an effortless smile. Goodness, I was all worn out.

She intentionally ignored my greeting and my heavy-eyed face, “Let’s go to the nearby doughnut shop,” she said.

I raised an eyebrow at her, she has a handful of cronies that she spent her time with, mostly beings who convey bad influences to others, I can never comprehend why she chose to succumb to their circle of hell. She wasn’t at all gullible from what I see in her, she was just different from them, she displayed modesty and magnanimity, yet her companions are of the opposite, she seems to enjoy their comfort, so I wouldn’t complain much. However, I was curious to why she chose me, even if we’re barely acquainted. I was even more curious about what her intentions are because if it were a shenanigan- a typical high-school dare, it would be ludicrous, I doubt I’ll ever have the same impression of her. The sweet, humble ingénue turned into an ignoramus, I would lose all dignity.

She snapped me out, “So, what do you say?”

I thought it all thoroughly, I couldn’t reject the opportunity to get to know her, at the same time, I wouldn’t want to come out as a fool. But I simply took the risk because I am already a fool to the eyes that met me.

“Sure,” I replied.

“Would you like to change first?”

I looked down and realised that I have been wearing the same clothes since morning, I probably smell of sweat and saliva from my great evening nap. I wasn’t in the mood to change, so I shook my head. I never have a good proper hygiene anyway, and I wasn’t at all embarrassed by it. Then, we headed outside in the middle of the night.

Day walked hastily under the dimmed streetlights and I was lacking behind, fumbling my wallet. She wouldn’t ask me to hurry up and neither would she pause to wait for me, she continues to walk and I quickened my steps to catch up with her. When we reached a nearby doughnut shop, I opened the glass door like a gentleman, but she insisted on letting me go first. To not start any conflict, I entered the shop.

We were the only two customers in Uncle Marty’s Smarty Doughnuts, it isn’t a popular branch, it is a doughnut shop run by Nigel Walker’s uncle and his family. The shop hasn’t been renovated since they opened it, so the furniture was old and out of place, the edges of the couch were torn and the parts of the tiles on the floor were missing. At first, I was disgusted by the interior of the place, but Nigel introduced me to their doughnuts and I genuinely fell in love with them, they are freshly homemade, and it gave me a sentimental value for every bite I took. I guess it wasn’t publicly famous as people tend to underestimate the appearance of the shop.

I bought my typical plain glazed doughnut and an expresso while Day bought a smiley face doughnut with custard filling and a cup of hot chocolate, I liked how it reflected her personality too. We sat near the misty window pane and focused on our late night meal. Even though the setting was perfect for a one-to-one, neither of us was willing to strike up a colloquy, the silence was a wall between us. She wouldn’t even glance at me and would rather much bring all of her attention to her sweet treats while I quietly observed her as I munched on my dull-looking doughnut. She was a lovely nymph but was rather an ungraceful one, she would slightly knock over her hot chocolate and sometimes she pressed the doughnut in a rough manner that the custard filling was squeezed out of the other end. She once took a big bite and the icing painted a moustache right above her upper lips, I handed her a tissue and she doesn’t seem too embarrassed by it. Every action she made, clumsy or not, I adore them, those little moments make her look like a real thing, it’s ineffable for me to explain, my eloquence lost its utterance, it’s either my mind is in a disorganised mess or she, in front of me, had eaten my words as well.

By the time we finished consuming, I almost wished the night didn’t end. We stepped outside of Uncle Marty’s Smarty Doughnuts, and I finally got the courage to break the wall of silence.

“Would you like me to walk with you to your home?”

She took a glance at me and nodded profusely. Her eyes were big and hazel, it shimmers under the streetlight, making my ticker flutter.

~

After I drop by at her house, which is a street away from mine, I scurried my way home. I opened my front door and a pleasant welcome of the sweet sillage of Day’s scent still lingers around the entrance, arousing my nostrils. I took a deep inhalation and stroll towards the messy pile of essays scattered on the floor, I accumulate them and properly place the stack on top of the coffee table. Then, I grabbed my black-leathered ruled notebook and fountain pen sitting beside the papers and randomly turned to a page.

“October 9, 2016, two things I loved doing today: reading my classmates’ poorly written essays and Day Dunbar.”

 

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