If He Hadn't Listened To Me - If He Had Been With Me by Laura Nowlin

eighty-eight

When we arrived at the beaten up diner, Jack and Sylvie were already sitting and waiting. I could see them through the vast, musty window, sitting on the cracked, crimson booth seats that had been worn out through time. Jack seemed to be chatting enthusiastically to Sylvie as she paid careful attention to his every word.

I didn't want to disrupt them, but Finny made me do it anyway.

"Hey guys," Finny calls out as we pass through the frame of the peeling, maroon front door. I unlink hands with Finny before they could notice. We pass by a weary-looking mother of three attempting to maintain her frisky children, one of which I almost tripped over.

It wasn't until Finny and I sat down that I noticed how battered Sylvie looked. She had stitches above her right temple, a bruise under her left eye and dark eyebags that left visible traces of insomnia. She was pointedly avoiding my gaze, settling on looking outside.

"Sylvie and I were thinking," Jack began. He took a deep breath before starting again, "Sylvie wanted to talk to Finny. Alone."

Oh.

Sylvie. Finny.

Alone.

The silence was deafening.

"Oh. Okay," Finny finally responded. I turned to look at him. His golden locks were tousled neatly over his forehead, and it took all of my willpower to not run my hands through them. I didn't want him to go. Not with Sylvie. He was finally mine, I didn't want that to change again.

"Okay," I said gently, my voice barely above a whisper.

I watched them walk together out of the crumbling door of the ancient diner and down the cracked concrete until they disappeared around a corner. It was just me and Jack now.

Finny wasn't here.

Without having to say anything, we both agreed to leave the diner as well. I did not look back at the broken-down building on my way out. We made our way to a nearby park and sat ourselves down on a set of squeaky swings. Despite it only being August, the leaves were already shifting from their summer green into vibrant, fiery hues of red, orange and yellow. They were scattered recklessly around the large area of tarmac, ready to be shoveled up and taken away. The afternoon sun that shone on the playground was bright as a button, blanketing us with gold. The toasty spotlight felt homely and snug on my bare arms, making me feel less tense. After a prolonged silence, I almost broke it, but Jack beat me to it.

"I like Sylvie." he blurted out, almost immediately regretting it.

Jack likes Sylvie.

"Oh," I reply, not knowing what else I can say. Come to think of it, Jack always seemed like he adored Sylvie, even though she was his best friend's girlfriend.

Ex-girlfriend.

"Does she know?"

"No."

Following another awkward silence, I turned to face Jack. "How long?"

"A year." Jack did not turn to face me, "I think I'm going to tell her." He dug the toe cap of his sleek, brand-new sneakers into the damp soil beneath him.

"Jack I don't thi-" I began hesitantly, but was interrupted.

"No Autumn. I am going to tell her. Maybe not today, but soon." He took a deep breath before starting again, this time a whisper. 

"I can't hide it anymore."

We sat in silence for a long time after that, though it wasn't awkward. I gazed at the busy road ahead, watching luxurious, polished cars zoom past followed by rusty, outdated ones. The bush of roses a few feet away from me still had a few blooming ones, though most of them had dried up and died. They were fluorescent, bright in all sorts of shades, opening and unfolding their temporary beauty just to be taken away as soon as they had arrived. Dying just as their lives have begun. I didn't think it was fair that they died so soon, being stripped of the chance of life immediately after they had been given it.

I felt my breakfast rising up and struggled to keep it down.

Suddenly, the tranquility of the park was replaced by the familiar sound of my ringtone. I took my phone out of my back pocket and peered at my phone screen, attempting to find the green button disguised by the blinding sun. I held the phone up to my ear.

"Hey, Autumn. Where are you? I'm back at the diner with Sylvie but I can't find you." Finny's voice crackles through the speaker and into my ear.

"Oh, I'm just at the park with Jack. Do you want to meet up?"

Jack looks at me expectantly, before mouthing, "Is Sylvie there?"

I nod at him before saying goodbye to Finny and I bring the phone back down from my ear. Without a word, we both stand up and make our way to the park gate.

"When are you going to tell her?" I ask hesitantly.

"I might do it today." Jack opens the gate with a screech and lets me through before him. 'Him and Sylvie would be good together,'  I ponder.

Within five minutes, we are all reunited at the broken, crumbling diner. I wonder how it is still up and running in a state like that. I join Finny by his side, careful not to get too close, and Jack joins Sylvie. We say our goodbyes before Finny and I retreat to his car, and I don't look over my shoulder. This time, I'm not afraid to take Finny's hand in mine. When we get back on the road, it does not rain.