Even after Janna had left, I could still feel her lingering presence. I stared at the corner of my bed which she had occupied and imagined her laying there, glowing. I reached out to touch the air, to grasp the space where she had existed for a brief moment. I felt her image slip out from between my fingers and escape through the open window like a puff of smoke. I need a cigarette.
I picked up my coat from last night and probed its pockets. Nothing. I checked the pockets of my pants as well but they, too, were empty. That's odd. I searched the floor on my hands and knees like an animal. They must've fallen out of my pockets last night. I quickly retreated to my sock drawer and tore it apart, looking for a spare pack. I was quickly interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing. My heart dropped. Could it be Emilio? I cautiously approached my phone. Unknown number. I let it ring again. What if it's Janna? It rang once more. Fuck it.
"Hello?" I answered cautiously.
"Hey Dante, it's me," came a familiar voice. "Emilio gave me your number last night, I hope you don't mind."
My nerves calmed at the sound of her voice.
"Celeste?" I questioned. "Wait, why would Emilio give you my number?"
The line went silent for a moment.
"Well, I asked for it after your... episode. I just– I wanted to make sure you were alright."
Celeste wanted my number?
"Oh, yeah I'm fine... I just had a headache is all," I reassured her.
"Okay, good," she took a pause. "I also wanted to apologize for ruining your shirt. I'm so clumsy sometimes it's embarrassing!" She let out a nervous laugh.
"No, no it's fine. I didn't even like that shirt anyway." It was my favorite shirt.
"That makes me feel a little better!" Celeste giggled, returning to her usual bubbly self. "I was worried that you were upset at me."
Why would she care if I was upset?
"No, I wasn't– I'm not upset. Really, it's fine." I said reassuringly.
"Okay, I believe you," she let out a small laugh. "Anway, I have something of yours."
What could she possibly have?
"Your cigarettes," she said, reading my mind. "They fell out of your pocket last night. I wanted to return them."
My Camels!
"Just keep them," I surprised myself with my answer.
"Oh no I insist," she protested.
Why does she want to return them so bad? I could just buy new ones.
"I thought you didn't like it when I smoked?" I questioned, remembering our conversation the night before.
"I don't." She said curtly. "But that's not really any of my business." She's right.
There was another pause. "Please, Dante. Let me do this for you."
Something was different. She sounded different. It was almost like the tone in her voice had completely changed. Her usual bubbly tone was replaced with another that was almost unrecognizable. What changed?
I sighed. "Okay, you can come by my apartment if you want."
"Okay send me the address!" Why hadn't I noticed how light and airy her voice was until now?
After we hung up, I couldn't help but feel warm on the inside. It started from my chest and spread like a wildfire to my limbs then my fingers. Am I...happy?
I went to the bathroom and examined myself in the mirror. I'm smiling! Although I hadn't shaved for days and the rings under my eyes were prominent, I still somehow looked happy. Happier than before, at least.
Why Celeste? She had always annoyed me. There was nothing innately special about her. Right?
I sat on my bed waiting for her. I stared at the ceiling and imagined the night at the party. I remembered the way her short blond locks were thrown around as she danced so carelessly. So, so carelessly. Like she was at the mercy of the rhythm, being tossed around by a sea of people. So many people and yet, she was the main attraction, the one who stood out from the endless masses of bodies pressed against each other. She was the star of the show, but she didn't know it. She was oblivious, and it killed me.
There was a knock at the door.
I walked to the door and opened it without hesitating.
"Hi Dante," There it was. The accent on the e.
Celeste was wearing an off-white sweater that was too long on the sleeves. She had one side of her partially-wet hair pinned back. Today, she had left her cello at home.
"Come inside," I stepped to the side. "Sorry about the mess I--."
"Oh no, don't worry! I wouldn't want to bother you," She started, looking slightly past me. "I just wanted to return this." She pulled out the Camels from her purse and handed it to me. Her fingers were long and thin, and her nails were polished a bright red. She had a small scar on her knuckle in the shape of a crescent. Probably a childhood accident.
She noticed that I had been staring at her hand and she retracted her fingers into a small fist. I looked away, slightly embarrassed that I'd been caught. I quickly tried making conversation.
"Did you have a good time last night?" God, I was awkward.
"I did! I haven't been to a party like that in a while," her eyes flickered. "I probably looked ridiculous dancing like that." She looked to the floor, her pale cheeks turning rosy.
"No, not ridiculous," I started nervously. "You were–good."
Her face lit up. "You think so? I've always been a little awkward." She smiled shyly.
"Me too," I said without thinking. It felt strange admitting that out loud.
"I like that, it means you're not afraid of what people might think of you," she said. Oh, but I'm always afraid.
Then, she hit me with a curveball.
"Dante, do you remember your conversation with Emilio? At the end of the night?" She said suddenly, tugging on her sleeves in anticipation.
What is she talking about? Then it hit me. The conversation about Janna that sounded like it was about Celeste. I cursed myself in my head.
"Nope. I don't remember that," I lied. "I don't remember anything at all about last night, really."
She pressed further. "Are you sure? I mean, you seem to remember when I spilled my drink on you so I'm sure you weren't that drunk." She's right.
"I guess that's where my memory cuts off." I was a bad liar and she knew it.
"Oh," she said, disappointed. "Well, let me know if you ever remember." She took a step back out of my doorway.
"I should get going," she said curtly, disrupting my thoughts.
"See you around, Dante."
I stood there stupidly, not moving. By the time I opened my mouth to speak, she was gone. I looked down at my hands holding the pack. It was wrinkled at the corners and looked worn. I opened it to reveal the last remaining cigarette, left untouched. I plucked it carefully and put it between my lips, crushing the empty pack with my remaining hand. She returned a single cigarette. A single, skinny, miserable cigarette. I took a puff. What she didn't know, however, was that this lone cigarette, miserable as it was, was the most exquisite I had ever smoked in my entire life.
.
Author's Note
Hi everyone! I'm so excited to post Chapter 6 of "Everything But Love"! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter because the next one is going to be *juicy.* Let me know what you guys think in the comments and don't forget to vote! Enjoy ❥
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p.s. So grateful to all my new followers and friends on wattpad! Y'all are the best!