Across the Hall

Fourth Quarter

Jack had imagined her life sparse, few friends. Some from high school she still called but none that lived close. Her room would be dotted with a couple of photographs, ones without her in it, so they looked like the people that came in the frames in the store, the relation to herself so ambiguous it felt immaterial. Nothing would be on the walls, nothing easy to grab onto at eye level. You'd have to bend down to get a sense of her. One blanket on the bed. A single extra pillow perhaps. One book within arm's reach of the bed.

Instead, it was so full, it was chaotic. He couldn't imagine how two people could fit in it at one time. Books littered the bureau, the desk, the nightstand. They hung from the wall with so many pictures, pictures of friends, of places she must've visited, of Maeve in all ages, with silly faces, looking serious, with her mother who had the same ability to metamorphize: in one picture a brilliant smile, in the next a face so serious it seemed to know only somberness. They held each other almost at arm's distance in each photo, as if afraid to get closer.

He tripped over several pairs of shoes on the ground, an air conditioner, a full length mirror propped open and bursting with jewelry, scarves hanging from the bedposts, thank you cards littered around the room, holiday wishes, and wedding invitations. It was a wonder she remembered to go to anything. There was no system visible, just chaos. It was the warmest room in the house. String lights wrapped around her headboard. He reached down and plugged them into the outlet, smiling as it lit up the room. When he went to leave, he saw a photo of them, the four of them: Dan and Harry, him and Patrick. She must've taken it when they weren't even looking, their faces pressed towards the cards in their hands. Dan with his head thrown back laughing, Harry looking at him from behind his hand. Patrick's face was hidden in shadow; his own blurred in motion, turning he realized to face her. She would've laughed as he caught her, hiding her phone under the table, another secret. That's what the chaos made him think of. It should've revealed; instead, it buried.

The whole apartment was covered in people. She was throwing a Halloween in July party, perhaps inspired by their own mis-seasoned affair. She hadn't been around enough for him to ask. He was surprised he got the invite, though he supposed it had come from Patrick, not her. Jack had to squeeze through throngs of people to get down the hall and looked in every room before he spotted her in the backyard. They were playing a game, cups placed around the edge of the table. He watched for a moment, and the speaker next to him suddenly crackled with music. Everyone else shuffled around the table, one hand poised towards the table, ready to flip their cup, but Maeve gave each dance her all, as if forgetting that wasn't the only thing they were doing. She was going to lose.

He could not take his eyes off her hair swinging around her shoulders as she got low, twisting her arms and waist around. He stepped on the porch as the music came to a sudden stop. She was poised at one end of the table, facing his direction. She caught his eye as she was bringing her cup to her mouth and paused to lift it to him in greeting. She lost the round giggling.

He hadn't seen Patrick standing right next to her until he turned to her and yelled, "Loser!"

Jack thought about what a fool he was to think it was his victory and not hers. It seemed the whole party only had eyes for her. He watched as she got enveloped by endless circles of people as she left the table and wondered how he ever thought she could be a solitary figure.

She was like the string lights in her room, a streak of honey amidst flies. She gave each circle an equal measure of her time and left them laughing before getting caught in another. He wondered if she really was making her way towards him or it was his vanity to think so.

Then she was standing at the steps in front of him.

"Hello," she said. Her costume consisted of a cover up with a girl in a bikini, a shiny skirt that flipped into a tail, starfish dangling from her ears. He wanted to glance at Patrick to see if they had done a costume together but didn't want to look away from her.