G: I can’t seem to find the room to my next class. The map I’m holding tightly in my left hand says it’s exactly where I’m standing and so it must be lying. I’m adjusting my newly purchased white Ray Ban sunglasses with my right hand and a sudden gust of ocean wind sends my map flying. I guess I wasn’t holding on to it as tightly as I had thought.
—
B: It’s hot today. Humid. Every so often there’s a gust of wind that carries for about 5 seconds before it disappears. It’s a nice surprise, but I wish it would last longer. I don’t want to hold her hand right now, it’s too hot and my hands are getting sweaty. I let go and take out a cigarette. This will buy me at least a few wondrous sweat-free minutes. I fumble around in my pocket and finally find my lights. As I hold it up to the tip of my cigarette and press down, I notice something across the street. Actually, someone.
—
G: Of course luck has it that I don’t succeed in catching it on my first try. The map sort of hops about and hovers above the dusty stone sidewalk. I bend down and it’s a rabbit hopping away. Again, to no avail. One more time, and of course, third time’s a charm. I wipe off some of the dust collected on one edge of the map and try to refold it. I give up and just crinkle it into a giant mass and stuff it in my bag.
As I look around standing under the hot noon sun, I place both my hands on the small of my back and stretch a little. Maybe I should just pretend that I haven’t arrived yet and miss class. My plane could’ve been delayed, and I could’ve gotten lost.
—
B: I must’ve just stood there without actual lighting my cigarette. The flame would flutter and the edges would obstruct my view every so often.
“Babe?”
She’s lost a hold of something she’s held in her hand. A map maybe?
“Babe.”
She reaches down to catch it and misses. She hurries along after it and disappears from my sight. A wooden fence blocks my view and erases all evidence of her.
“Babe!”
I stumble back to reality and turn to the person I’m with. I have no idea what she’s been saying, if anything, and my face must’ve given that away.
“Are you okay?” She looks concerned but not too worried. She looks off into the direction that I was staring at. “Did you see something?”
I hesitate and decide not to say anything. I mutter a “no” as I’m lighting my cigarette. I take in a deep drag and let it work it’s magic. Maybe I’m just seeing things. Maybe it’s the heat.
—
G: I end up sitting on a nearby bench and taking out a brand new pack of Parliament Lights. I carefully unwrap the plastic seal and stuff it into the pocket of my hoodie. The pocket’s rather shallow and one of them has a hole in it. The hoodie is way overdue and I should probably dispose of it. However, I’m fond of this particular one with my handy artwork and the memories along with it. I’m sure it can survive another year.
I open the box and gently pull one out. I place it between my dry chapped lips and pull out my lighter from the back slip pocket of what I’d like to think is a vintage Ben Sherman bag. Olive green with black accents. The air is so dry that I regret lighting it in the first place. The cling of the lighter as I close it seems to crack the air around me like a thick layer of ice atop a frozen lake. Perhaps more like dry land in a desert.
I’ve gone through three cigarettes in an hour and a half and all I can feel is the pain when I swallow. It’s much to dry here.
—
B: We’re back at my dorm and she’s just finished showering. She comes out already dressed with her hair still wet. I’m looking at her but my mind is elsewhere.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come? They invited you but now they’re getting me. I don’t want to be responsible for crashing a party.”
I make a sound that resembles an asthma attack although it was meant to be a chuckle. “You won’t be crashing it. When they invited me they invited you.”
She grabs her makeup bag and goes back into the bathroom. “It won’t be fun without you!”
I’m starting to feel light headed. It feels too stuffy and heavy in my room without an air conditioner. “I really can’t. I have too much work and I want to rest for a bit. My head hurts.”
She comes back out and feels my forehead. “You don’t have a fever. You want some water?”
“I’m fine. I’ll just lie down for a bit.”
“Do you want me to stay with you? I can.”
“No, it’s fine. Go. Have fun. I’ll be fine after a nap or something. Then, I’ll be productive and we’ll go out tomorrow night.”
“Oh, why how nice of you to reserve an entire Saturday night for me.” She kisses me on the forehead and rushes back into the bathroom. A few minutes later she comes back out and fumbles around the room stuffing various things in her tiny purse. Her cell phone, lip-gloss, tissues, cigarettes. She hurries to my side and kisses me again. Her eyes look worried for me and I try to reassure her with a smile. She smiles back. She whispers, “I’ll be back by midnight. Don’t wait up,” then leaves.
—
G: During what seems to be hours later but in reality was only two hours, I’ve managed to finish Bukowski’s Factotum, smoke another two cigarettes, and really regret not bringing my bottle of water. The sun is starting to set and my class hasn’t finished yet. Perhaps I should stay away from the area before my class finishes and my professor catches me. Then again, I don’t believe he or she knows what I look like. Then again perhaps they’ve seen a picture or will put two and two together when I finally do meet them in class next week.
I place the book back in my bag and zip it up. I standing wiping off the dust I’ve been sitting on and look around the bench to see if I’ve forgotten anything. As I’m doing a once-over I think I hear footsteps.
—
B: I’ve dozed off for about an hour or so but it hasn’t helped my head. I feel like I can’t breathe. I grab a new pack of cigarettes, my keys, and head out the door. I glance at my watch and it turns out it’s been practically two hours. I’ll just take a short walk along the beach and see if the air is better there. I walk across towards the entrance of campus housing and try not to drag my feet. However, my body is too weak right now and the heat isn’t helping its laziness. With each step, my feet make a scraping noise and it almost adds another level of unbearable heat.
As I cross the street and walk towards the general direction of the beach, I think my mind is playing tricks on me. Is it really that hot that I’m witnessing a mirage? She’s standing right in front of me.
—
G: Through my peripheral vision, I catch a glimpse of what seems to be someone just standing and staring at me. He’s a yard or two away and I’m wondering if I’m in his way. I turn to apologize when I realize why he’s just standing there.
What seems like ages pass by with mutual freeze motion. We don’t know what the other is thinking and neither of us wants to be the first to say something. What would we say?
—
B: She’s noticed me and now we’re both just standing like idiots. Why won’t she say something? Has she really forgotten what I look like? Does my hair growing out really make that much of a difference? Seconds then minutes pass by. I have so many questions I don’t know which one to ask first.
—
G: Out of nowhere he blurts out “What are you doing here?” I’m taken aback by the slight implication of anger in his voice.
The shock passes and I try to sound collected. “I go here.”
—
B: Before I could better phrase and time my questions I blurt out an entire paragraph of them. “Since when? What do you mean you go here? You just decided to transfer and come here? Why didn’t you tell me? When were you planning to tell me?” I’m starting to get agitated and it sounds like I’m angry. But I’m not. Not in the least.
—
G: I can understand his frustration but it would be easier to talk to him if he would calm down. As I say, “I thought you would find out sooner or later. Why announce it,” I realize it’s the wrong thing to say. This wouldn’t calm him down. It didn’t.
—
B: “Fuck. Of course I’d find out—” I stop myself before I blurt something I’ll regret or don’t mean. There are still so many things I want to say that I feel like I won’t be able to breathe properly until I finish saying everything. I try to regulate my breathing starting with shallow breaths and forming deeper ones. She doesn’t say a word and waits for me.
—
G: I can tell that he’s trying to calm down and collect his thoughts. Not be so emotional. It’s actually difficult for me to see and hear him like this. I’ve never seen this eager angry side of him before. He barely spoke the last time we saw each other. I’m staring at him so intensely through my sunglasses that I feel like I’ve burned the lenses already and he can see exactly what I’m thinking.
—
B: I wish she would take off her sunglasses. I can’t see her eyes so I have no idea what she’s thinking or feeling. Am I the only one frustrated here? Am I the only one that feels betrayed?
I don’t know what else to say. Everything I think in my head sounds wrong and I can’t word my sentences properly anymore. I’ve lost momentum.
I mumble out, “Why didn’t you tell me” and stare at the ground. I can’t even look at her anymore.
—
G: I know exactly how to answer the question but I don’t want to bring up that subject yet. I decide to tell a white lie, “It was a spontaneous decision to transfer here. I didn’t really have time to even let it sink in.” He lifts his head a little, sneaks a peak at me, then fully raises his head and looks directly into my eyes. There’s no point anymore. I take my sunglasses off.
—
B: I can’t take it anymore. All these feelings are rushing up to the surface and it’s getting harder and harder to suppress them. Before I know it, they flood out through the only place that’s open. My eyes.
—
G: As I take off my sunglasses and we make real eye contact for the first time, I feel all the things he’s feeling. Those eyes. Waves and waves of emotion flow through them and I can’t even take them all in. Sadness, betrayal, loneliness, memories, regret, love, I look away.
—
B: Finally I can get a glimpse of what she’s thinking. For a split second I think I see a sign of loneliness and sadness but then she looks away. I can’t confirm it.
—
GB: Two weeks later, it finally happened. Time was on our side.
© estalement 2008
