Short Stories

I Kissed Her

            My heart never thought it could feel pain and excitement at the same time, but then Rachel walked into the bar. Of all the bars in Chicago, why did she walk into this one? It had been a year since we parted ways, and somehow after moving cities we found each other face to face again.

            Every possible way to say hello quickly played out in my head: Hello, hey, how are you, I missed you, I hate you, fancy seeing you here, how have you been, what brings you here, how many guys have you been with since me, sup, how you doing, I can’t sleep at night, hola, bonjour, this town ain’t big enough for the both of us, no fucking way you’re here, I loved you and you left.

            “Hi, Rachel.”

            “Oh hi, Tim.”

            I opened up my arms just a little bit late for a hug that seemed forced. She stepped back a bit almost like she was thinking, okay, so we are doing this.

            “How about a drink?” And there is no way I’m buying you one.

            “Yeah sure.” She went over and ordered some fruity girl drink.

            She turned to me and said, “How are you?”

            “Good, good, I’m doing good. My job has been good since I have been out here. I finally filled up my apartment with furniture so it feels like home.” I smiled and chuckled a little, sipping on my beer, and bobbing my head like a moron.

            “You always loved to procrastinate.” So is that why you broke my heart?

            “You know me.” I chuckled again. “So, what brings you to the Windy City?” Did I really just use that lame line?

            “Oh, well I just got a job at a PR firm in the South Loop. Yeah, it’s a step up from the little marketing internship I had.”

            “That’s great. Does this place have a creepy boss that hits on you?” Okay, that joke sounds more like Tim.

            She laughed, “No, no. This place is real nice. Everyone seems a bit nicer than New York.”

            “That’s the Midwest charm. It is starting to rub off on me. Yesterday I helped up the old lady after I stole her purse.”

            There it is. There’s that smile that has been haunting my dreams.

            “That’s terrible, Tim.”

            “I’ll stop the jokes when you stop laughing at them.”

            “Okay, fair enough.”

            “How long ago did you start your job?”

            “I actually just started this week. Yeah, I moved in last weekend, and I’m trying to get away from my place. It’s a mess, so here I am forgetting my apartment is only a bed and unpacked boxes.”

            “Oh, cool. What neighborhood are you at?” So I know which one to avoid.

            “I’m in Lincoln Park right by the North-Clybourn Red Line.”

            No way I thought, “No way, I live around there too.”

            “Are you kidding me?” Her high pitched I’m-excited voice was not what I was expecting out of her. I thought it would be more of an I’m-trying-to-be-surprised-but-I’m-actually-sarcastic-right-now voice.

            “Yeah, I’m at a red brick apartment with a Chinese restaurant right under it.”

            “Get out of town. I live in an apartment with a Chinese restaurant under it too.”

            “Is it Golden River?”

            “Oh my God. We’re in the same building.” Great, now I get to see you probably every day. But she is reacting pretty happy about that. I have the same smile on my face, but I think hers is real. Her eyes are squinting a little bit like when we first dated, and not open and dead like when she said we should be friends a year ago.

            “Wow, that’s crazy.” I think I might have to pack up my finally completed apartment and escape to a suburb and take the Metra to work.

            “I know. What are the odds.” She touched my forearm and let it stay there a little bit before going back to holding her fruity drink with two hands.

            “I know, crazy.” You can’t touch my arm like that anymore. This is my arm now, not yours. You don’t have the right for extended physical contact, not after hitting my heart with a two-by-four. You have no right to make me think about the past and how much I loved it when we held each other. This arm doesn’t want to touch or be touched by you. It doesn’t want to be wrapped around your body and hold you tight. It doesn’t want to remember anything. Why do you think I’m drinking at a bar by myself trying to find some girl to go home with to feel the fake feeling of belonging. It is trying to forget the real feeling it had when it was with you.

            “Don’t worry, I was totally not stalking you and finding out where you live. By the way, you left your bathroom light on.” She laughed, and so did I. We always loved weird jokes.

            “Hey, remember the time when we snuck backstage at the Passion Pit concert?”

            “How can I forget? That night was the greatest. That is actually the night that got me into the stalking business.” God, why am I bringing up history? I should try and end this.

            “Well, you found me, so business must be good. But I thought stalkers are supposed to let the stalkie know they are being stalked?”

            “I never said I was a good one.” We laughed again. She went for a drink, but she couldn’t take her eyes off me. Please don’t start this up. I know it is a new city and I’m a familiarity, but you can’t do this to me. We are over. You are the one who ended it. I tried everything, and you just sat there staring at me. Don’t give me this look with your bright green eyes. Don’t look up and down at me like you’re interested in me again. Don’t make my hate melt away.

            “Let’s go get a booth, Tim.” She grabbed my hand and led me away to the booth. I couldn’t let go of her, or give her a violent shack giving her the signal to get your hands off of me devil woman. But I followed her like there was no history between us.

            I had so much I wanted to say to her at the booth. I wrote letters to you that I meant to deliver. I wrote them over and over thinking of words that would make you turn your words of “just being friends” back to soul mate lovers. I thought I found the right words in my letters, so I deleted them all. I wanted to be over you, and I thought I was. I have so much hurt built up because of you, but you’re breaking it down and rebuilding something with the same bricks. The longer we sit at this booth. This new feeling is worse than any other. I will let you take me along with this feeling until you get used to this new city and dump me like a child’s safety blanket. I will be so worn and torn that no one will want to use me again. But I will let you do this to me because of this feeling of hope that I know is false.

            “How long have we been here?” She looked at me smiling.

            For as long as it took me to create something new from pain and love. “I don’t know.”

            “Well, it’s getting late, I think I should go. Do you want to walk home together?”

            “Of course.” I would follow you like an old and dying dog following its master holding a shotgun. Everyone knows except the dog what the shotgun is for.

            We went back to our apartment complex past the smell of ginger from the Chinese place. Then we went to her floor and apartment that had a view towards the lake. Mine was on the floor above hers that sees every sunset.

            “Goodnight, Tim.”

            “Goodnight, Rachel.”

            I embraced her in a hug that felt so right. When we started to separate from the hug I moved in for a kiss goodbye. That kiss felt more real than any kiss I have experienced since we parted ways a year ago. I have been with other girls since her, but none of their lips left anything other than their physical touch. When our lips touched it was beyond words. It was like she reached out, grabbed me, and put me in the safest place I knew. It was like I wasn’t complete until the day I met her again in the bar. It was like we were meant to be together; maybe she can believe it this time. The kiss from her lips was a way of letting my soul know that it was now whole again. Then our lips separated, and I looked towards the stairs and my escape.

            She touched my check and guided my gaze into her eyes. Her tepid fingers trailed down my neck and arm to lock our fingers together. She led me into her new apartment with her old boxes scattered thoughtlessly. The door behind us closed shut, and I opened my eyes in the darkness of my room in New York.

            I searched around the room and saw nothing had changed. Rachel was still sleeping next to me, but the pain was still there. I grabbed onto her waist and didn’t want to let go.

“What’s wrong, Tim?” A part of my heart was torn from me.

            “I had a bad dream.” I squeezed her again to make sure this was real, and she wasn’t going to leave.

            “What was it about?” She looked down at me with her pretty green eyes lit by the faint glow of the city lights through the shade. Her warm hand stroked the back of my head. That touch made everything feel all right.

            “I don’t want to talk about it, Rachel.”

            “You can tell me.”

            “I had a dream about you. I dreamt that we weren’t together anymore, but we were reunited. Then we kissed and it felt so real, but I knew you would leave me again.”

            “Well I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere.” She gave me a kiss on the forehead.

            I sat up on the bed with her and pulled my arm around her. She nuzzled down into the space I made just for her.

            “The kiss was the worst part. It felt so real, but at the same time, I knew it wasn’t. It was like my head was trying to confuse me.”

            She looked up at me with her mesmerizing eyes. “Then this should help out,” she said and closed her eyes moving in to give me a kiss. I closed my eyes and went to meet her lips.

            My head left my pillow and was left hanging in empty space. The sudden fall from my head leaving the pillow woke me up. I opened my eyes. My body was posed to embrace a kiss, but no one was there to receive it. I sat up looking at my closet that still had some unpacked boxes.

            The familiar morning light crept into my room, and with it the sound of my alarm to let me know to go to work. I wished it was the sound of a closing door or the feeling of my falling head, or maybe this is the start of a new dream where I can see her again. I got up from my bed to begin my morning routine. She wasn’t there to fight me for the bathroom, so I brushed my teeth and took a shower. She wasn’t there to talk at breakfast, so I sat and ate in silence. She wasn’t there to remind me the time, so I checked my watch. She wasn’t there to kiss me goodbye so I closed my eyes and left. The street smelled sweet from the mix of the lake and Chinese as I walked to the L. All I could think about was coming back home to my empty bed to close my eyes and see her again.

Missed Route

            One of the great love stories of our time is one that you will never hear. It all started when Adam was waiting for the bus. It was an exceptional spring day. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, but he could not feel its uncomfortable heat, only its warm rays on his skin. The wind had the slightest breeze that was just strong enough to carry the sent of blooming spring flowers for miles. A day that was so perfect he would never notice how great it was until he stopped to think about all the other imperfect days of the year. Adam had no clue how perfect this day was. He did not notice the warmth of the sun or smell of the air. He did not know how lucky he was to be a part of this moment. This day was the most important day of Adam’s life, and nothing happened.

            Adam stood at the bus stop. There was no plastic shelter to shield the weather, or a bench to rest on at this bus stop. That stop was meant to be that way. It did not give him a chance to sit and relax. It made him stand and pay attention to everything around him. It made him look out for the bus in anticipation thinking of when the bus will come to take him where he was meant to go. The stop was only marked by a sign weather-worn by the seasons. Only with the exception of days like today where even an inanimate object could enjoy the day free from elemental struggle. It was slightly bent to one side from people leaning on it like Adam would after an exhausting day. It is the place worth remembering because it is where the greatest love story never heard happened. This sign still stands today as a monument to no one.

            So Adam stood by this sign waiting for the bus thinking. He took this bus route every day after classes at State University.  Today Adam was thinking about the weekend. He just had a test and wanted the week to be over. He knew there were a couple of parties his friends were going to throw. One of his friends was even trying to set Adam up with one of her friends. Adam thought about how amazing it will be and was so excited to meet this girl. He began to create an inner dialogue of what he was going to say when he met her and some smooth pickup lines he could use. Nothing important happened that weekend, and Adam forgot about the party and the girl in a month.

            The bus came into view in the middle of Adam’s inattention. Bus G221 was right on schedule. That was surprising considering the bus driver was late to work this morning. Bus G221 stopped in front of Adam with a hydraulic cough. The white, green, and yellow lines on the bus gleamed in the light of the sun like it could be in a majestic fairytale, but that was not a new sight for Adam. The rubber trimmed glass doors opened without its usual screech. The bus driver oiled the pistons this morning. It was a miracle that this bus arrived right on time seemingly just so Adam could have this moment. Adam stepped onto Bus G221 and was blessed with his first glance of the love of his life.

            He would have remembered this moment, this day, this bus stop, and this bus for the rest of his life. He would have remembered the exact instant he saw her, Erica. Adam knew she was the most beautiful girl in his world. He first noticed her long ash blond hair, and how it flowed over her picturesque face. The sight of her filled Adam with an abundance of joyful nervousness.  Every thought in his head was wiped away at the sight of her. The pupils of his eyes dilated so he could take in all the light that seemed to radiate from her. Adam was so enthralled with seeing his true love that his body could not function with his brain. As Adam walked down the aisle he tripped and landed in front of Erica.

            “Are you alright?” she asked. She used the same tone that would have later comforted Adam when they found out they could not have children of their own. The same tone that let their adopted son know he was alright when he bruised himself on the playground. The same tone that let Adam know they caught the cancer early enough that he could survive it. The same tone that would make Adam’s world stable again after every time he would fall.

            “Yes. I’m fine,” he replied. Adam said those words confidently even though he felt defeated. She believed him even though it was far from the truth. Like when Adam and Erica found out they were pregnant. Adam was so scared on the inside, but never let it show to Erica. And when they had the miscarriage, Adam was the rock that got Erica through the pain despite Adam’s own heartbreak. He would hold her tight in his arms comforting through sleepless nights when all he wanted to do was run and curse the world. When his son would mess up, Adam bottled his frustration to let patience prevail. During the chemo sessions, he showed his family the example of strength they needed, but Adam felt more helpless than a newborn.

            After he said that, Adam went towards the back of the bus to sit down. He wanted to talk to Erica so bad, but now he felt like his chances were ruined. They weren’t. Erica took a quick glance at Adam when he first walked on the bus like she did to all the newcomers to the bus. She felt differently about this one. She looked back to get a full look at him and lingered in his eyes longer than normal. Her heart was trying to wish its way into his. She prayed that through her mind alone she could get him to sit next to her and spark up a conversation. It didn’t matter when Adam fell in front of her. He was so embarrassed, but she was so relieved. She had an opportunity to talk to this somehow special boy, and she took it.

            Adam was too overcome with his bashful emotions to bring the conversation any farther than it did. He went to the back to sit and think about all the things that he could have done. With his gaze to the floor, he could not see Erica in front of him. She was looking back attentively to meet with Adam’s eyes once more. She hoped more than ever that his head would pick up to see her. She wanted that chance to give the playful smile to get his attention. In the latter years of their life together, that smile always brought Adam back to her. Across the room at parties, Erica would smile and look away then meet his eyes again. Adam was powerless to that look, but he never lifted his eyes from the ground of that bus to see her.

            They sat on the bus more separated. Every passing moment on the bus was not being wasted. At any moment they could start their life together on that bus. Every second marked the last time they felt the farthest away from each other, and every second marked the first time they felt the closest to each other. Adam heard the sound of his stop number and to him, it sounded like a saving grace, but to me, it sounded like a funeral hymn. He began to get off the bus and put his right foot to the ground. If he turned to look back at Erica that foot would have returned to the bus because he would see her eyes that didn’t want him to leave.

            That did not happen. He put his left foot forward to continue on this new path. His love story would come later in life. The same was with Erica. They would never remember this perfect day meant for them. That stumble into falling in love that never got its hold. There was no love story to be told on this day in this moment. Some things are too perfect to be noticed.