Photo by X.A. Medina (http://lepoet.tumblr.com/)

The boring man mumbled, or maybe it was my brain didn’t care what the boring man had to say. I couldn’t decide as I didn’t fight the yawn that came over me. When the yawn was over and I opened my eyes, I saw through the blur of the tears that had been squeezed out during my yawn, her. She was in the corner of the party, which was strange because she usually was in the middle. I walked over to her. I said, Hey baby. She said, Don’t “Hey baby” me. I said, What do you want me to say? She bit her lip and thought, her eyes looking everywhere but at me. Come outside and have a smoke with me, is what she came up with. I nodded and she walked ahead of me through the crowd. As we stepped into the middle of the room, the space became tight as the people talked loudly over the thumping music. She reached behind her and searched for my hand. I extended mine to her and she locked her fingers around my palm. It wasn’t big, but it was something.

The next morning I looked down on her sleeping in my bed curled up in a little ball. It reminded me of my old kitten Oatmeal. I never liked to wake Oatmeal because it made me feel bad inside, because she always looked so peaceful as her fur moved up and down in a hypnotic rhythm. And here this girl was laying in my bed, curled up like a kitten, but I had to wake her. I had no choice. I lived in a dance studio and during the day I had to disappear while the ballerinas practiced their routines. This was the deal I had made with the landlord, and why I could afford to live where I did. Where at night I could focus on my writing, and reading, and substitute my food with cheap coffee and cheaper beer.

After I woke her, we bought bagels at the deli. She ordered and paid for them while I stood outside shivering as I flipped through the newspaper I grabbed from the trash can on the corner. She came out and pulled my bagel from the brown bag, and said, Here, it’s an everything bagel with plain cream cheese. As we walked across the street I told her about how as a kid I never ordered an everything bagel because I thought it literally meant everything; cinnamon raisin, blueberry, onion, sesame seed, etc.

She choked a little as she tried to hold back her laugh. I grinned and said, It’s okay you can laugh. I was a pretty dumb kid. She smiled at me and said, I like when you tell me stories about when you were a kid. We went to a bookstore where we each slipped a book under our jackets and went around the corner to the coffee shop.

After we each finished our respective books we went back to the bookstore and exchanged our stolen books for two new ones at the register. Once outside she said she had to go meet a friend. Before she left she gave me her new book. I picked it out for you, she said. I admired the red cover and she kissed me on the cheek before she turned and walked towards the subway. I thought it was a nice gesture on a nice day. One of the few nice days left before everything changed. I looked at my watch. I could go home. The ballerinas had left for the day.

1. westonauburn posted this