Its 3:45pm and im sitting in her office, the lights low, the sound of the fish tank in the background. I have an hour until my next class, she has an hour until she needs to set up the next on campus event. We exist here in the space between worlds where I am falling in love and she is blissfully unaware. At 4pm she nudges my foot.
I grab the gold cart keys and she runs around grabbing everyone else’s order. Some days she lets me drive, some days I prefer to press my feet against the bars and enjoy the way the salted air grazes my skin. She knows my order. Its been the same since we first crossed paths. Venti Cool Lime, extra limes except in December when it changes temporarily to a peppermint mocha Frappuccino. The first time I order it, she looks at me as if there’s an alien inhabiting my body. But she’s a quick learner. She knows my habits. She knows when someone has pissed me off. Knows that if i walk in and sit on her office couch with my brows furrowed and headphones in, that I just need time and space and comfort from sharing her space. So she sits with me in that silence. We exist in this space together.
It’s a week before graduation. She asks me to stay an extra week to help set up and break down. To be honest, she tells me she already added my name to a list. We go to the stadium, and stand on the stage. She steals my phone, swiping to snapchat.
“Hey,” she calls. My head is already on her shoulder. Florida heat is sweltering and it’s been a long day. I glance up, seeing our reflections on the screen. She smiles, calls us the A-Team. I glance at her, forgetting for a moment that the camera is there, capturing my every move. Later that night, when I replay the video, i catch the moment she realizes that this is more for me than it is for her. The way her eyes widen for a fraction of a moment that I would have missed without the camera’s watchful eye.
Its 11pm. We’ve set up and torn down two concerts in one night and she invites our team back to her room for food and drinks. It turns into drunk truth or dare and she grins as she looks at me.
And maybe it’s the night air or the vodka in my system or the full moon that I can see through her blinds, rising on steadily on the bay but I’m brave. More brave than i’ve felt in my life.
“If you could kiss any girl in this school, who would it be?”
Bravery is short lived. Its a ruse made by those that long to see your downfall. I feel it exit my body with the swiftness of the Yenisei River. I shake my head. There are too many witnesses. I am suddenly aware of the bodies that surround me and I am small, too small, too afraid.
She lists off names. And when I don’t answer she sends everyone out the room, pressing herself close to me as she whispers, “it’s me, isn’t it?”
I shake my head, another lie. She sees it. Sees right through me. We’ve spent too many hours together. I am an open book that she’s read multiple times and suddenly her lips are on mine and I can’t fathom that it’s real. That this is happening.
And then its not and she’s on the other side of the room, pacing, panicking.
But i’ve had a glimpse of everything i’ve ever wanted so i try. I try and i try but she is adamant and when I leave, the moon is a little dimmer, as if it sees me. As if the pain filling my body is tangible. As if it had tried to warn me, and i refused to listen.
