Part 2 (1/2)
”Yeah, that'd be great.”
We sat on that bench for a while talking about the things you do when you first meet someone. I told her all about my struggles with Allison, the ring, her stupid dog, the carnival proposal, and my recently lost job. I could tell she was judging me a bit about the fact that I had no real career. ”So then what do you really want to do?”
”I'm not really sure yet.”
”Don't you think you should think about it, especially now that you lost your job?”
She had a good point. ”Yeah, you're right.”
”Well what do you like to do?”
”I like music, writing, and walking around.”
”What do you write?”
”Mostly just little stories, but I try to write a lot of different things.”
”What about music reviews?”
”I've never thought of that. I guess it would make sense, but I wouldn't know where to start.”
”Well, you should figure that out.” She smiled with the same expression that I remembered so fondly from the night before.
After our short a.n.a.lysis of my life, I found out she attended MIT and was studying biological engineering. She tried telling me about what that actually meant, but I got lost before we got very far and made a note to myself to look it up. She was in her 3rd year of school and was trying to plan what she may want to do after school. I had never met anyone like her before. She was so completely different than everyone else in my life that I was a little nervous. It felt disorienting, the way it feels when you wake up and it takes a second to realize where you are. She told me all about the relations.h.i.+p she was just in and how it affected her.
She had recently gotten out of a relations.h.i.+p that was very taxing on her life. ”He never hit me,” she explained, ”but I actually lived in fear that he might. For a while I was too scared to even break up with him.” She went on a bit more before she stopped suddenly and asked to change the subject. I obliged, feeling weak from just listening to her story.
We chatted for a while and then she said that she had to go to cla.s.s. ”I'll walk you back up to the bridge,” I said, trying to be a gentleman. On our short walk we made plans to meet up later that night for dinner at the approachably stylish Redline, at 7. Right before we made it to the bridge, she asked, ”Why did you wait so long to talk to me after you saw me?” I was dumbfounded. ”I saw you and knew you were following me from the moment you ran across the street.”
”Oh I just... I'm not very confident sometimes. I didn't want you to think I was following you.”
”But you were.” She smiled a devilish grin and looked up at me as a strand of her hair tickled her eyelashes before she slowly brushed it away and back behind her ears.
Chapter 5.
When Nicole left, I just stood there watching her walk away for a moment. Nothing creepy, just watching her go. I was trying to take in as much of her as possible before she was gone, even though I knew that I was going to see her again that night. When she was finally out of sight, I turned the other way and started walking home. Basking in her glow, I made it halfway to my apartment before I had a thought that didn't involve her.
I realized then that I had dreamt about her the night before and saw her walk across that bridge just as she did. I made a note to remind myself to ask her what she was listening to. If it was Mayday Parade, I was going to lose it. I hadn't actively thought to walk that way either. I just did it as if my dream slid into my conscious mind and nudged a few synapses to fire and get my feet moving in the right direction. Then I remembered the dream I had about the carnie ma.s.sacre and got so creeped out that I stopped walking and some guy ran into the back of me saying ”Hey watch it a.s.shole.” If we had been driving, he would have gotten the ticket for following too closely, but somehow I was the a.s.shole here.
I'm not really a huge believer in the paranormal or premonitions or anything like that, but two very detailed dreams ended up coming true and it was enough for me to start to believe, or at least to think about believing, that something unusual was going on here. I decided to make a few more stops before I made my way home, to kill some time. I desperately needed some food and decided to get something new to wear for that night. Eventually I made it home and ran up my stoop while trying to get my mind back on Nicole. I threw my stuff down and plopped into bed. I looked at the clock for some rea.s.surance, but only realized how long I had before dinner. Ugh.
I just sat there twiddling my thumbs on the Internet by checking all my accounts. It always amazed me how many pa.s.swords I had to remember to find out if people wanted to talk to me. Mys.p.a.ce, Facebook, my 3 email addresses, IM. Toss in the lesser used ones like Netflix, Bank of America, anything to do with bills and it's a wonder we can remember anything else but usernames and pa.s.swords. Logging into all of those sites, I got the ever-pleasing result of no messages. None. Not even from Allison. Oh right. Allison. Suddenly it hit me. What the h.e.l.l was I doing? I was still seeing Allison. Really I haven't done anything wrong, I thought. I wasn't totally sure that tonight was a date, though it sure felt like it was going to be one. Where is the line? Is going out to dinner cheating? I decided that later I should drop by Allison's after she got home from work to finally talk to her about things and see what we could come up with. I had put it off long enough and now at least I didn't feel quite so terrible about her rejection. I realized that I could, and possibly already had, move on.
The day had taken a toll on my body, so I decided I needed a shower. As I took my clothes off, I felt oddly insecure as if someone were watching me from somewhere. It was a feeling I hadn't felt since far before I met Allison and I was curious why it had found its way back to me. I stepped in the shower and just stood there while a barrage of little watery fists pummeled my face, letting them have a go at beating all the bad out of me, letting it wash off my skin and down the drain. Let the rats chew on my problems, I thought.
The cleansing power that the shower provided me was always stronger than any priest or reconciliation would ever provide. The worst part of a shower, of course, was the getting out. Leaving that warm womb of watery goo just to go out into the cold cruel world was never easy. That day at least there was some hope. I had a great night planned. Of course there were a few speed b.u.mps on the way to happiness, but at least happiness was actually out there on the horizon. I could just make out the topsail of the s.h.i.+p in the distance.
I rummaged through my closet and found the least offensive pair of ”nice” jeans, which happened to be my favorite pair. I hate stereotypes, but I am very much a boy when it comes to laundry. Unless there's a stain or it actually smells bad, what's the point of was.h.i.+ng it? Why wash something after one use if you didn't even so much as sweat in it? I get was.h.i.+ng the underwear and socks, fine, and normally wear those only once, but with jeans and sweaters, come on. I slid into my new s.h.i.+rt and took a moment to appreciate the craftsmans.h.i.+p and st.i.tching even though I knew it was most likely a programmed machine doing the work. Someone still had to program it and so I saluted the programmer. A few quick product applications to my hair, a few rogue hair plucks, and I was off. I had debated whether or not to get ready for my dinner with Nicole before I went to see Allison, but figured that I might not make it on time the way Allison liked to talk.
On the way to Allison's I tried thinking about what was happening with my life, constructing a timeline in my head and adding footnotes here and there. Was I so defeated by Allison that I so quickly dismissed her? For the first time it occurred to me that maybe it was possible that I was in some way glad that she rejected me. So much for my watery cleansing, I thought, as the cynical side of me raised an eyebrow, as if to say I told you so. ”Nothing is ever as easy as it seems,” it said and smiled a Grinchy smile.
I'm not prepared for this, I thought, as I rang Allison's doorbell. When I heard the Satan run and try to attack me through the door, it put me fully back in my place. I hand rang the doorbell out of respect, though I had a key, so I just went in after a few knocks as I always didready in my best Kung Fu stance in preparation for battle with the devil dog.
He was nicer than usual and just growled at me as I made my way through the kitchen to Allison's room. She was on the computer instant messaging with a friend. ”A.) She shot me a look as if I were about to stab her in the chest. ”Did you really think that we could just go on as normal?” clearly already knowing the answer.
”I guess I did.”
”I just don't think that I can work that way, Allison. I put everything on the line the other night. Everything.”
A monsoon started in her eyes. I'd never seen her cry that way before and for a minute my eyes were tempted to commiserate with her, but I convinced them to follow my orders, not hers. I got up from my hammock and made my way back to her to put an arm around her and pat her back. Not two arms for a full hug, just oneI was still too p.i.s.sed to give her the real deal.