Cheeky

№ 30. The Finish Line

A metallic stench mixed with damp, fresh air seeped into my pores and curled the ends of my hair. A passing shower had just left me soaked, and my sneakered feet continued to squelch for five more blocks. I was starting to recognize the hedged streets lined with old brick walls and crooked sidewalks. The sun was setting in the horizon, and I began to squint through the lazy orange glow.

I knew that I shouldn't be doing this, but I was going ahead with it anyways. After Jeremy had left for good, I stopped calling George. If he hadn't already answered back at least one of my seemingly endless calls, he certainly wasn't going to now. So I gave it a rest, and hunkered down to study for finals. I shut out everyone and buried myself in textbooks. Lectures became my hideouts, and I frequented the apartment less and less, arriving solely for sleep and a shower.

I didn't want to run the risk of talking with Chelsea, and keeping any contact to a bare minimum was precisely my goal. I nested in the university library until they had to kick me out, and took the train home every night. I continued to come in for work, and there too, I kept the chit chat with Nick at only a necessity if the situation called for it. I don't know if he noticed or not, I also hoped to see Emma walk in at least once. But, it had been two weeks since Jeremy left, and I still hadn't managed to get ahold of Emma.

Its been the longest that we've ever went without talking, and I felt myself beginning to drown in my own lonely thoughts. I felt as though I had absolutely no one - not Nick, not Emma...not George. It was George I thought most about. When I managed to lift my head from my notes, his smile danced through my mind. It was torture, his songs playing sickeningly loud, a broken record that echoed incessantly. And when I stared at our photo long enough, when I remembered our kiss by the water, whenever I walked down that infamous bridge - I had to stop  myself, to try and regain some control as it became impossible to breathe.

I didn't want to feel this way. I shouldn't have to be so utterly dependent on another person in order to be happy; now I was starting to sound like a broken record. So that was why I was going to George's shop, spending my last bit of pocket money on bus fare to have a talk. However, I didn't quite think about what I was going to say.

Rounding the corner, I paused, nervously shifting from foot to foot as George's music shop came into view. A fresh breeze reminiscent of the storm that had just passed, blew my hair back as I inhaled quickly, trying to steady my erratic heartbeat. By now there shouldn't be any customers - I'd like to think that I chose the time on purpose for some privacy at least. But the decision happened on a whim and now it was too late to turn back. 

I waited until the last person walked out of the shop and stood by the window to peer inside. There was maybe one light on, and shadowed was a figure, hunched over in the corner stacking CDs and milk crates. I knew it was George, I could recognize his posture from a mile away. My feet seem to be glued to that sidewalk and I wanted nothing more than to stay and watch him, gaze on as his knowing fingers cataloged what seemed to be every piece of music known to man. My own hand traced his outline through the window, until it dropped back to my side and I shook my head.

"No point in staring," I whispered. 

Shuffling back to the door, I blinked at the 'closed' sign that hung before me and turned the knob anyways. Walking in, it were as though I had never left, the same musty odor of vintage carpet and an era long forgotten, surrounded me. I scanned over every crevice with fond admiration.

"What are you doing here?"

I squinted towards George's lean figure which stepped out of the shadows, his strong coarse hands gripping a crate of vinyls. His mouth, those knowing eyes, all the things I had secretly desired for days on end and now, I was right in front of him. And it was as if he were made of stone. His cold exterior came as a bit of a shock, but I swallowed tentatively as I took a step forward.