She hoped, one day, she’d be her reality…
A piece by Chai
Dusting off the beach sand off my skirt, I mustered up enough courage to look at her, properly, for the first time that night. She was still sitting down on the mini hill we had made for ourselves earlier that evening. Head thrown back, beer in one hand and a lit Camel in another, sunglasses tugging at her shirt’s neck line deeper than it already was. She caught me looking and threw me a puzzled look before she laughed.
“What’s wrong? Why do you have that strange look on your face”, she asked, smiling coyly.
“Nothing” I shake my head and look away.
“It’s now or never”, I tell myself. “Hey, want to come home?”
I said it. There was a huge rush of adrenalin and blood shooting up my head and my heart was pumping blood like it was a matter of life. Well, it was. I had wanted to bring her home from the first time I had looked at her. No, that’s not true. I had wanted to bring her home from the first time she had looked at me. But I never could pick up my guts and just, ask. You see, I might be a writer, but I still work on logic. And logic told me I’d belong nowhere near her. She was way out of my league. She was cool and chic and her smile made all the boys weak in the knees. And me? A bespectacled puny gamine who knew more about hydrogen and helium than hush puppies. We were from different planets and so I knew I had nothing to interest her. I don’t know why, then, did I just ask her to come home. Whether it was the beer or the way her lips held the smoke. Or just the beach and the sun, but something, I know not what, but sometimes made my insides all clamor at my brains and I asked her.
Just asked her.
She snapped her fingers twice before me, “Where do you get lost all the time? Anyways, I’m not walking back to my home at this hour anyway. I’ll just stay the night at yours. Go get your scooter. I’ll throw these beer bottles and catch up with you”
She paused for a second as she dusted off her denims and I caught myself staring at her again. She saw me see her again and I knew this was the end of it. I had let myself hope too much.
It was a bad idea. I might have just trespassed territories I might have lost the frie…
“I hope you like blueberries ‘cause that’s what my chapstick tastes of.”
And she walked off as if nothing happened. As if she didn’t just agree to spend the night with me, As if she hadn’t just given me a speck of hope, as if she hadn’t just given wind to a dying ember.
I let go of a breath I didn’t know I was holding and my knees wobbled as I feel back on the ground.
Guess humans are meant to defy logic.