Memorable

Not that I couldn’t appreciate a beautiful lady, I could, I’d just learned to ignore the children wearing grownups’ clothes. I’d taken a few shots at romance before… some reason not remembering who they were going out with always seemed to dampen the mood.

“Ireland,” I replied, following it with a lie, “I moved to America a month ago.”

“Why?” Tricia said bluntly, but caught herself, immediately flashing a smile to try and smooth over the forward statement. “I mean, why did you choose to come here?” She smoothed down her skirt, a tiny thing that barely made it a quarter of the way down her thighs. I had to imagine she was freezing. I wasn’t sympathetic in the least.

“It was the people, really,” I grinned, staring into her hazel eyes. She had a certain charm about her… a way that just announced she got around and had her choice of partners. “They inspire me.”

“Inspire you to do what?” She purred, scooting a little bit closer to my side. Obviously she had no concerns about talking to a stranger alone in the middle of the night. She probably hoped I would try to pull something…

“I’m a painter,” I lied. I’d tried most of the fine arts in my time, but none of them had really stuck.

“What do you paint?”

“People, like you, traipsing across the grass with that bag,” I nodded towards the brown knapsack clutched possessively in her hands. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide it against her side. “It’s not yours, is it?”

“How’d you know?”

“Call it intuition. A friend’s or an enemie’s?”

“Well…” she paused, shifting nervously, “you see, Sandra stole my boyfriend, the little conniving—“ she said, using a rather inappropriate name for Sandra, “and then she flaunted him about like she owned the whole campus, while I’m left shamed and single! Single! I mean, really? He was mine first! So when I saw her bag just left in the library… Well. It’s only right that I get some revenge. She deserves it after all…”

“I see.” I nodded, turning to stare off into the distance. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Well… I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet…” I doubted she thought much at all.

“You could always give it back.”

She stared at me like I’d just suggested she get her eyebrows died green.

“Why would I do that?” She finally asked.

“Well, think about it. What’s Sandra expecting you to do?”

“Get revenge…”

“So what will happen if you do the opposite?”

“People will think I’m weak.”

“Wrong,” I corrected, turning back to look at her straight on. “You’ll be the bigger person. You’ll be more honorable, more noble, and all together a better person.

“I don’t get it.” Big surprise. “How does that help?”

“Think about it this way: She’ll spend all of her time worrying about what you’re going to try and do. She’ll think you have some horrendously clever plan, and that you’re just waiting for her to walk into it. Plus, by ignoring her, you’re really just saying that she means nothing and is worth nothing to you. It’s the ultimate revenge.”

“Oh... Okay. So you think I should give it back.”

“Aye.” I could basically hear her brain ticking as she tried to process the idea. I took the moment to stare off across the manicured lawn. The glow of the moon was just starting to claw its way through the clouds, letting ghostly shadows slide across grass. The after-storm breeze was brisk, rustling the leaves with an eerie melody, and caressing my skin with cool fingers. I was acutely away of the warm body resting next to me, also knowing she wouldn’t feel any heat from me--another side effect of belonging to the spirit world.

I could feel her indecision growing. “I mean, if you really want to seem like an immature little—“

“I’m gonna give it back.” She said strongly, wrapping her clammy hand over the back of mine. “I mean, that’s obviously the sensible thing to do. You’re so right.”

“You would have figured it out,” I lied. She was obviously fishing for a foreign man.

“So… Aiken, do you wanna hang out later?”

“Sure. You come find me after you give the bag back, and I’ll take you out to celebrate your sensibleness,” I said, knowing she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t remember.

“Oh that sounds wonderful! See, my ex was never so gentlemanly.” At least she had some wits about her. She leaned against my side, her eyes glazing over with shallow dreaminess.

“Hey, those are my friends!” She called, straightening up. I followed her faze towards the college’s main building, spotting a trio of girls who looked just as shallow as Tricia.

“Well, farewell then,” I said, gently pushing her up onto her feet.

“Bye!” She called back to me as she raced across the soggy grass. I watched with a detachedness I’d come to own. I counted backwards from three, sensing the memory of our conversation slip away into the abyss.

“Candy, Liz, Rachel!” Tricia called, her voice carried back to me on the wind.

“Did you get a new bag?”

“No... I found it. But I’m gonna give it back,” she proclaimed triumphantly.

Their conversation degraded into snippy chatter, but one question caught my ear.

“Hey, who is that?” One of the others asked, and I watched as all four turned towards me.

“How would I know, I’ve never met him before.” And the voice was unmistakably Tricia’s.