Corridor of Dreams

Return-Part 1

Stephen hurtled down the empty street, panting as drops of sweat ran down his face only to be blown away by the wind. Even as his bicycle sped downhill, he was pedaling like a madman, the warm spring breeze blowing his tousled blond hair into his eyes despite his efforts to push it aside. In his rush, he nearly missed the house he was heading for and hurriedly attempted to skid to a stop. He managed to do so, but flew over the handlebars, landing on the front lawn and tumbling head over heels through the thick grass. He opened his eyes, dazed, and sat up. After dusting the grass from his hair and grabbing his backpack, he promptly collapsed onto his back again. The sky was so blue, so vast; the grass soft and warm. He felt as though he could rest his eyes for a few minutes; only as long as it took for his dizziness to wear off.

"Are you going to lie there all day?" called a light, assertive voice from the direction of the front porch, "Spectacular crash landing, but I would have to take points off for almost knocking yourself out." Stephen grinned and called back, "if I hadn't knocked myself out, you would have by accident. Remember, I'm the coordinated one." He sat up again to see Charlotte Tejon cooly leaning against her front porch.

Stephen and Charlotte had met on the first day of third grade. Over the course of the next several years, they had formed the kind of friendship that few people can understand and even fewer can sustain. It was one of complete and utter sincerity. Each one knew how to be themselves and exactly how to read the other person. Granted, both had had thoughts of taking the relationship further in recent years, but they had decided to wait, even when others would have chosen to go forward.

Despite the fact that Charlotte was strictly "just a friend", Stephen acknowledged that she was beautiful. At five feet, seven inches she stood only a tad shorter than he did. Her raven hair was long and wavy, streaked with a dark blue stripe running down the left side. She had hazel eyes framed by black horn-rimmed glasses and olive skin, naturally tanned from spending so many years in Colorado, one of the most outdoors-y states in the nation.

Stephen, on the other hand, was (and always had been) bleach-blond, and while his taller frame did not suit a bodybuilder's bulk, he had built up quite a bit of lean muscle over the years. His skin took after his hair, the northern European ancestry doing little to darken his skin. In contrast to this, his eyes were a startlingly dark brown that could sometimes be mistaken for black from a distance, a factor of his appearance that frequently made people ask if he dyed his hair. 

Both of the young adults had the creases of laugh lines in the corners of their eyes, a testament to the humor they had always been able to find, no matter where life led them.

"So," Charlotte continued from her haughty position on the porch, "I suppose you haven't been doing anything you'll regret?" "Oh, come on, Charlie," Stephen retorted, dusting off his backpack and pants "It was my first college spring break, what was I supposed to do?" Charlotte raised a dark eyebrow. "Fine, fine," he continued, "I was helping my Grandmother with her spring cleaning, you happy?" Charlotte cracked a smile. "You know, if you're going to call me Charlie, I get to start calling you 'Steve' again." "Ah," Stephen consented, smiling back, "Point taken."

Leaning his bike against a section of the old, creaky porch railing, he followed her through a beautifully sculpted atrium and into a large, very modern-looking kitchen. However, he spent little time admiring the décor, especially since he had seen it so many times. He was currently more preoccupied with why his old friend had called him here."So," he inquired with genuine curisoity, "What was the summons for?" "Summons?" Charlotte replied, giving him another eyebrow raise, "I called you and asked you to come over." Stephen laid his backpack on the counter and carefully selected a green apple from a nearby fruit bowl. "Come on," he told her, "you did say to hurry."

He looked up, expecting to see one of her all-too-famous eye rolls, but instead found her looking forlornly into the bowl of fruit which he had just raided. "Oi, Charlotte," he said, snapping his fingers. She started as though someone had jolted her awake, then looked at him. "Sorry," she said, "I was thinking of something else." "Don't tell me you're moving?" he said with mock despair, throwing himself into a plush white chair in the neighboring living room. "No, it's not that," she said, still sounding a bit preoccupied.

"Well then what is it?" he asked, carefully inspecting the apple before taking a mostrous bite. Charlotte fidgited; "I just, well, I...I...Would you stop that!?" Stephen snorted, almost spraying apple juice everywhere. When they were younger, he had often passed the time by smacking loudly whenever she tried to start speaking, much as he had been at just that moment. In spite of herself, Charlotte laughed and sat on the couch across from him. "I-I just wanted to see you again," she said as she nervously brushed a curl from her face. "I've just had this feeling the last few days that makes me think about life; what I'm doing, where I'm going . . . you get what I'm saying?"

Stephen nodded, Charlotte had always had a pensive side, so this was nothing new. But still, he had to ask; "You haven't been feeling depressed, have you?" "Oh, no," she reassured him, "just a bit contemplative." They both sat in silence for a moment, before he smacked loudly, causing Charlotte to send a pillow flying across the room as she laughed and yelled: "Would you shut up with the apple!!!"