Into the Starry Night

Eleven

For some reason it felt like all the air in the car had been sucked out with the help of a giant vacuum.

I tried to pretend to be busy on my phone but all I could think about was the last conversation I'd had with Daniel seven years ago.

It was a few weeks after I got back from my suspension. Right before the last holiday in SS2. Before he blacklisted me completely.

I had resolved to get him to talk to me by any means necessary which was why I cornered him outside the swimming arena where he went to pick up some supplies.

“This whole silent treatment you are giving me would be a lot more effective if I knew what I did to deserve it,” I announced myself causing him to stop locking the steel doors and turn.

“I mean I get what I did but this is ridiculous. Even God doesn't punish people like this.”

“How would you know?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean I don't really but . . .” I faltered.

He sighed. “As much as I would love to stand here until you figure it out, it's the last day of school and I have things to do,” he locked the door and removed the pair of blue flippers from under his arm.

He was walking away when I stopped him.

“Daniel,” I called.

Thankfully he stopped and turned around.

“I don't understand what's going on. Talk to me, please.”

I didn't know if I imagined it but for a moment those glittering irises of his softened and I got a glimpse of the Daniel I knew behind all the pain and steel.

But it was only for a moment because as soon as he shook his unruly mop of curls the vision was gone and he was back to being unrecognizable.

“I'm sorry, but it's not my job to make you understand.”

He left and I never tried speaking to him again.

Sitting in the car with him now I couldn't help but ask myself if I ever really knew him.

That Daniel and this one bore a really striking resemblance because the atmosphere they both brought was unmistakably arctic.

It led me to wonder whether I imagined the warm, sunny Daniel that I'd been in love with once upon a time.

I was still in my own thoughts when Daniel cleared his throat and brought me back to the present.

“I'm sorry,” his voice filled the car.

I blinked at him, completely caught unaware by his apology.

“What are you sorry for?”

“For being a tool most of the night. I just get really cranky as soon as 10 rolls around. That's why I especially hate the night shift.”

“That's odd, I do not remember that being the case during your various nighttime escapade.”

He laughed. “Believe it or not, I think old age has set in.”

Despite everything I was feeling at that monent I couldn't help the laugh that came out of me.

“Is that all you're sorry for?” I asked, hoping to segue into how we left things seven years ago.

I watched as he thought. “Well, while I'm at it, I'm sorry for how I acted at the auction. I don't know why but I always seem to rile you up even without meaning to.”