IN THE SPAN OF ONE month, I'd had more "hallucinations" featuring August than the past fifteen combined, and I didn't get it. I didn't get why. We were through. It was mutual. So why was I so hung up on the memory of him all of a sudden?
Next to me, the girl I met in Anatomy class last month scribbled hurriedly in a notebook, her face obscured by a curtain of thick black braids. Like her, I was focused on taking notes. Unlike her, I wasn't able to take notes. I couldn't get the buzzing in my head to stop.
"Nice drawing," she said, successfully grabbing my attention. I looked over at her very neat-and unfortunately, accurate-sketch of the human skeleton surrounded by hastily scribbled notes. "But it doesn't look very ... bony."
I turned back to my own notebook. August's hair looked as messy as it could possibly ever be, courtesy of my very amazing drawing skills. But damn, I'd gotten carried away again, and this girl was here to witness it.
"It's not supposed to. Look bony, I mean," I said rather breathlessly.
The girl lifted a shoulder. "Well, if you don't fare well enough in the medical field, you could always switch to Arts." She pushed her hair back. "I'm Atalia, by the way."
"Len-" A quiet-but loud enough for me to hear-beep cut me off. The screen of my phone lit up with a message from CJ.
CJ: updates??? stop leaving me hanging!
CJ: also, need your help ASAP!! sos dying :(
Me: in the middle of class rn. can it wait?
CJ: depends. do you want to plan my funeral?
Me: you're being dramatic, C
CJ: am not.
CJ: i need you.
CJ: please. have i ever asked for ... well, anything?
No, she in fact had not, which was weird, seeing as our relationship consisted mostly of asking and doing. I'd been the one doing the all the asking.
Me: is this a life or death situation?
CJ: Lenny!
Me: fine, I'll be there soon
Atalia-and a few nearby students-glanced at me as I haphazardly shoved my books into my tote bag. The former voiced her thoughts. "Is something wrong?"
I barely spared her a second glance. "I'm not sure."
She sucked in her bottom lip then let it go. "Do you need me to-"
"Copy extra notes? Thanks. I owe you plenty." I was on my feet, bag slung over my shoulder. "Coffee sometime?"
"Yeah, sure."
Even though I had no intention to run into her again, I still let myself smile at the thought of making an actual friend. Sure, "friend" was overdoing it a little bit-okay, a lot bit-but it didn't matter. And although she might've been the single most annoying human being I had ever encountered, she was pretty, and pretty sometimes meant nice.
Plus, she said she'd take down some extra notes for me. People didn't just do stuff like that unless they wanted something in return. In this case, a coffee hangout. I presumed I would be footing the bills.
"Finally!" CJ squealed, throwing herself at me as soon as I walked through the doors to our dorm room. "I thought you'd leave me hanging."
I pulled back for a bit of breathing space. "Why would you think I'd leave you hanging?"
CJ broke away, flexing her fingers and refusing to meet my eyes. "Doesn't matter."
"CJ?"
"What?" She looked at me, the hint of a smile pulling at her lips.
"CJ!"
"That's my name."
I smacked my forehead. "I cannot believe what you're doing." My tote dropped to the floor with an unceremonious thud. I was glad to be rid of it. Almost as glad as I was to be out of Anatomy. "Tell me why you insisted I get here immediately."
She let out an exaggerated sigh and planted her behind on the edge of my bed. "I ... I can't. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know-I was scared, I think. It's just, college, you know? And my dad called, and then my sister-I mean brother-started blowing up my phone with text messages, and these tights are super itchy, and I got so overwhelmed." She looked down at her shoe-clad feet. "I needed someone to talk to me, I think. To tell me it would be fine.
"I needed you, Lenny."
Tentatively, I neared her. "CJ? First order of business; you need to get out of those tights. Then," I said, lowering myself onto the space next to her, "you're going to tell me all about your day, and we're going to have a girl's night-which is pretty much all we ever do-and we will try to think of ways to make this ... situation better." I put my arm around her, ignoring the way her body trembled.
Did CJ needing me make me feel good about myself? Only slightly. It made me extremely guilty, but I couldn't help it. I'd gotten so used to depending on others, to being the clingy one, that I'd never felt useful. Needed. Important.
And maybe I didn't feel so important as we sat there huddled together like a hastily put together sandwich, all awkward and occasionally jumpy, but it was a start. Plus, there was Atalia and our possible friendship, Piper, Carter, and Carter's app ... But there was also August and this sudden rush of emotions and yearning-like an invisible tether hell-bent on holding me back.
The worst part was that I couldn't bring it up to CJ. Not while she was hurting.
She sat up straighter. I let her go.
"You feel better?"
"A little," she answered. "I still have to call my dad, though. I sort of ... yelled at him a little. I was just so frustrated, and the stress I've been under lately, it didn't make it any easier to handle."
In what I hoped was a comforting move, I rubbed her shoulder. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I could go out real quick and get you some of that kimchee fried rice you like," I offered, hoping for some sort of smile. A small glimmer of hope I could hold on to. Because a non-smiling CJ wasn't really CJ.
Whatever happened must've been a big deal.
She bared her teeth, burying her face in her hands. "What did I do to deserve you?" she said under her breath. It wasn't so much as a whisper, probably not intended for my ears.
I pressed my lips to her hair and got up, biting hard on my lower lip. A smile tugged hard at my lips, but I didn't want her to see it. It wouldn't be fair to her.
Outside the building, the air was chilly. I wasn't sure why. It was the middle of February.
Students hurried all around me in singles and groups, some strolling leisurely, others doing their best to speed walk without breaking into a run.
I'd forgotten to grab my purse, but I had a few dollars in my jacket pocket. That would have to do. Realistically speaking, I barely even had enough to pay for public transportation, and I knew that if I went back to get my purse, CJ would force a smile and tell me to forgo the kimchee.
I didn't want to forgo the kimchee, I wanted to make her feel better.
My phone buzzed. I fished it out. It was a text from Leah, my older sister. She worked as a production designer somewhere in Hollywood. To me, it wasn't a big deal. To her, it wasn't a big deal. To my brother, Keegan, it wasn't a big deal. To my dad, well, who knows? My mom? Everything was a big deal to her.
Leah: Hey, Lenny. Sorry I missed your call. I've been extremely busy these days.
Leah: Talk later?
A smile spread across my lips and I shoved my phone back into my pocket. In simple terms, Leah was amazing. In more complex terms, she was a hot glowing ball of awesomeness bathed in sunlight and wrapped in swaddling clothing that had been dipped in glitter-an exaggeration.
When August and I talked things over and split up, she'd coddled me for four days straight, singing the occasional lullaby (for some accursed reason-my sister's singing voice was worse than the bleating of a goat) and sticking to me like chewing gum on hair. It was terrible; the coddling, not the breakup.
The downtown bus CJ and I rarely got on let out a blaring sound, and I snapped my eyes to it. It was only a few feet away. Maybe I could get on it, I thought. I'll ask to put the price on my tab and walk home if I have to.
I'd changed my mind, not ready to venture out into the cold. If it got too much to handle, I'd stay a while at the restaurant. CJ could manage a few hours, couldn't she?
A yellow-haired boy hopped on the step right before I could, causing me to stumble backwards. His denim jacket swayed in the slight evening wind, coming ever so close to whacking me in the face. One of his earbuds fell out and he moved to put it back in position, eyes wandering down and somehow catching sight of me. I must've looked pissed, standing there, because his ears tinged pink and he stepped down.
"Sorry," he muttered. "Did I ... Do you want to get on?" he asked, but I was too focused on being upset-and wondering what his hair felt like-to give a pleasant answer.
"Would I be standing here if I didn't?"
His jaw twitched and his eyebrows set in a straight line. "Right. Of course." He trudged up the stairs, leaving me gaping in his wake.
"Are you getting on or what?" asked the bus driver, a chubby white man with oddly slender fingers. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, staring at me through squinted eyes.
I shook my head no, but hurried in anyway. The doors closed behind me. I plopped down next to the yellow-haired boy. Not because there were no other seats, but because there was nowhere else I wanted to sit.
Slowly, and with an loud grunt, the bus began to move. I could feel the vibrations through my heavily soled shoes. At a loss for things to do, I dared a glance at my seat partner's phone-an invasion of privacy, yes, but for a good cause.
"You listen to FLETCHER?" I asked, trying to keep my voice low enough not to be overheard, but loud enough that he could hear me through his earphones.
I didn't think he could hear me, but apparently, he could, because he edged a tiny bit closer and said, "Depends on why you're asking."
My brows knitted together. "Why does it matter? What if I'm just curious?"
He turned to me, lips quirking up slightly. "You don't hit me like the 'curious' type," he said, invalidating thirteen percent of the things August had once called me.
"Inquisitive little thing," he'd mutter, eyes shining with delight. Then, he would touch his lips to mine swiftly, leaving me giddy with excitement. High on a juvenile fairytale.
"Sorry to burst your bubble, but I happen to be a highly curious woman," I quipped, crossing my arms defiantly. It was an involuntary action-a thing that came so easily to me, taking me back to various nights, various evenings, and mornings at the school, at the pool, to either of our houses.
I really needed to do something about these thoughts.
"So." I nudged him. "You go here?"
He glanced out the window. You could still make out ASU's executive building. "Since two years ago," he answered. "You?"
"Five or six months."
Our conversation halted for a good fifteen minutes, giving me enough time to think up possible solutions to my August Wilder problem. It'd been fifteen months-give or take a few-since we split, and with no other reasonable explanation, I resorted to thinking that was the reason for all of this ... daydreaming.
I missed him. I missed us.
"Hey, um," I began so quietly that I could hardly hear myself over the engine of the slow-moving vehicle, "what department are you in?"
It was a far cry from what I'd intended to ask, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. We'd only just met, for heaven's sake. I couldn't believe myself-couldn't believe my intentions. Are you that pathetic, Lenny? Are you? August would've been disappointed.
I needed to stop thinking about August.
"Well, I'm studying estate management, so that would mean-"
"Oh my God." I buried my face in my hands, groaning as audibly as possible. These people needed to hear my pain, my struggle.
"And what will we do, Lenore? Where will we live?" I could hear the richness of his voice, could feel his hands on my skin like a colony of soldier ants. "Off the coast of an island? Away from everyone we've ever known?"
I'd answered breathlessly. Foolishly. Thinking on it made me want to crawl in a ditch and die.
My companion took out his earphones and lowered his head to my level. "'Oh my God', what? Did I say something I shouldn't have?"
The urge to bury my face so deep in my hands that I'd suffocate myself was overwhelming. I had to do something, and I had to do it fast. Shooting August a text-CJ would defenestrate me for that-was completely out of the question, but only because I knew it wouldn't help matters. I'd end up complicating things. I'd end up back where I started.
"No," I said, tucking my hair back. "It's fine, I just ..." I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. My destination was coming into view more quickly than I wanted it to. "Do you, by any chance, want to, I don't know, grab some late lunch?" Before he could refuse, I added, "Totally on me."
His chuckling was the last thing I heard before the bus came to a stop, the engine shrieking as it did. He hadn't answered. I'd come on too strong. What what the matter with me? What is the matter with you, Lenny?
I got to my feet, managing not to trip over nothing. He looked up at me. I gave a tight-lipped smile, tucking my hair back.
"This is my stop," I mumbled with the scrap of dignity I had left. "Do you want to take me up on my offer?"
I couldn't believe I hadn't let it go yet. This wasn't going to make things better. If I somehow got it to work, it would end in disaster. And not just for me, but for everyone involved.
Either he sensed my shame-I wouldn't put it past him. Shame had a strong scent, and with how bad I had it, mine was probably stinking up the entire bus-or he'd actually been heading to the same place as I was, because he wrapped the cord of his earphones around his hand and got to his feet, using the seat I'd just vacated to help himself up.
"Not unless you let me handle the bus fare," he said with quite a lot of pompousness for someone who could barely get up on their own. I stepped back and into the middle row. The bus was nearly empty. I guessed that was the last (and only) stop.
I placed my hands on my hips and grinned. "What, you think I can't afford to pay my own bills?" Stop this. Stop this right away. "Is this a game of gender roles to you?" I sneered in a somewhat playful tone, turning my nose up as I leaned forward.
The bus driver honked twice. I flinched and dropped my hands to my sides.
My seat partner gestured to the door. "Out you go." I turned for the door. He followed close behind me, slamming three one dollar bills in the driver's palm as we passed by him.
The air out here was colder. I rubbed my arms over the fabric that covered them.
We crossed to the other side of the road, me in the lead since I was the one who insinuated conversation, narrowly escaping death. The truck that had nearly killed us blared its horn angrily.
Inside the small restaurant, the air came to life. One could easily see how it was a favorite of CJ's. It was always so tranquil here, whilst managing to crackle with electricity.
My seat partner slipped into a booth. I followed suit in the space opposite him, grateful for the warmth and delicious aroma that filled the air. It'd been twelve whole minutes since August last crossed my mind. Based on recent events, that counted as a new record. Pathetic, but that was my life now.
"So," he started, propping his cheek up on his hand. "What's your name?"
Oh, to hell with it.
With a sweet smile, I answered, "Lenny. What's yours?"
Somewhere beneath all the flesh, bone, nerves, and blood, I could feel my blood-pumping organ thrashing around in its cage. Blood pounded in my ears. I was almost fully convinced of my foolishness. Are we still going through with this, Lenny? You haven't even gotten his name yet. Well, what better way to get this over with than with a total stranger?
His smile reached his eyes. "Colin."
I was starting to think the chapter didn't want to end. It didn't, but I've been at this for about two weeks now, and I can't anymore. The dialogue feels awkward here, so I'll definitely be fixing that sometime soon.
Anyway, hi! I hope you enjoyed this mess <3
(Fun fact: August and Lenny should've been best friends who eventually attended the same college. It should have been a friends to lovers dynamic.)
Until next week,
- angel ☆