by Nat Fladager
23
I am drunk. I see three, no four, of my roommate Rachel. Her feather earrings quiver endlessly.
“Someone is checking you out?” she informs me.
“Huh?”
“That guy, other there.” She points to a figure that appears far off. He is leaning or I am leaning?
“I am not interested,” I protest. “I already have too many.”
“I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend.” She chugs the contents of her solo cup.
“It’s complicated.”
“It’s either yes or no,” she brushes off my ambiguity. “You’re an enigma, Hailey.”
I wobble back to my dorm, looking behind me at the potential suitor. He is blurry to me but bits of him remind me of bits of others. It’s not unusual for everyone to resemble Chase, every blond head and sneakered foot.
I lay down on my messy cot. Warp is right there, ready to swoop in and take me away. “Go ahead,” I speak to it as if it were God or the exact opposite. “I don’t care anymore. You win.”
24
I wake to Thanksgiving, a holiday I haven't experienced since I was thirteen.
Solemnly, I bundle myself on the couch while my mom bastes the turkey which I can’t smell. I plan to stay put, but at noon she sends me to the store for potatoes and milk.
Begrudgingly, I walk to Safeway and get a sack of russets and a gallon of 2%.
“Hailey?”
I peek up over the issue of Seventeen Magazine I am reading in the checkout line. Chase’s handsome face blooms above me, a sunrise of blue and copper. “Chase.” I clench my jaw. I tainted our last interaction and now, seeing him in all his glory, I want a second chance. I am easily swayed in short timeframes. “Hi.”
He puts a can of cranberry sauce on the conveyor belt and lays the rubber divider down significantly.
“Cash or card?” The checker asks him, blatantly annoyed she is working on Thanksgiving.
He clears his throat. “Cash. No, I mean card. Do you want to maybe take a walk?”
“What?” The cashier bites at him. “No way Jose.”
“Not you.” He looks at me.
I glance down at my faded yoga pants and Birkenstocks. He looks amazing in his hoodie and fresh Vans. I feel stupid. I should say no. I have no clue the last time he drunkenly called me. “Yes.”
He takes my bag of groceries and we walk to Rhino park. The leaves crunch under our feet. He seems older than I am but my birthday comes before his. Maybe it’s that I have forgotten him. I’ve left him in the dust as I’ve been rewound and fast-forwarded while he grows in a straight line. I am jealous of that line.
“Are you, um, at Oregon State still?” We saunter to the swing set.
I gaze over at the big slide. I recall when we were little and the hours we spent climbing up and sliding down it. That was before things got messy. “Kinda.”
He tilts his head curiously.
I take my hair out of its ponytail and push it behind my ears, working to make my dishevel more sheveled. “I mean, yes, but its break.”
“Right.”
“Are you still going to the community college?”
He swirls the rubber end of his Van in the sand. “Not really. I told you it wasn’t working out for me.”
“Oh. Wow.”
“I thought I had told you.”
I run my fingers through my tangles. He used to tell me things like this, in the good ol’ days. Perhaps he did but I wouldn’t know and he thinks I just don’t care and easily forget. Another ping against me. Another tally for our breakup.
We swing. Back and forth. He is ahead and I am back. I am back and he is ahead. My hair flutters. His hair flutters. My heart flutters. His probably does not flutter.
“Hailey.” He yanks the chain and eases me to a halt. He touches both my knees.
“Yes, Chase.” I take him in with my hungry eyes. I search my way into the open space of his hands. The faint texture of his skin makes me sick to my stomach because I know I can’t have it.
He inhales and exhales and with his breath, takes in strands of his buttercup hair. “I’m really sorry I kept calling you. I’ve been a jerk.”
I shiver.
“I was being…drunk. Stupid. You know, we just had a history.” He brings his eyes to me. “It was familiar.”
I loosen my fingers.
“But it won’t happen anymore. I promise.”
“What do you promise?” I must know exactly.
“I promise never to call you again,” he confirms and my hands fall dead by my side.
25
I lay on my bed in my tiny room in Seattle looking up at the ceiling. I stuck a couple glow in the dark stars up there for comfort but even in the dark, I can’t see their shine.
I hear ruckus outside my room. Rachel is having a party. She knocks on my door. “Hey, Hailey. Wanna come join?”
“No thanks. I’m not in the party mood.”
“Oh come on. Pretty please,” she pleads. “You’ve been moping all day. And yesterday and the day before that.”
“Fine,” I relent and I gather myself up. I change out of my sweats and into a dress and meagerly socialize. I have Loch Ness Monster stuck in my head and my attempt to drown out Chase’s falsetto with rum and coke is a joke.
I see that I texted him at midnight. I told him I missed him. All the words on my flip phone are mine and none are his. I am driving myself crazy, crazier than I already may be.
Everyone is happy and their happiness makes me unhappier. Upset, I push my way to the front door and step outside. I stand on the edge of the sidewalk. The street lights shimmer on the wet pavement. I ruminate morbidly. There’s a way out of this but I’m not sure it would work. I dip my toe into the top of a puddle. But it could work.
“You okay there.” I hear someone say from behind.
I turn around and see Micah. He’s in his trench coat, smoking a cigarette. I forgot about him, that he existed and that he is mine.
I wipe my eyes and step backwards. “I think so.”
“Smoke?”
“No, thanks.”
He smashes his cigarette underneath his shoe and exhales his last puff into the thick air. He doesn’t know me, I can tell. This is our first interaction.
“You’re not from around here are you?” He skims me over.
“How do you know?”
He nudges his loafer against my ballerina flat. “Those things won’t last long in this weather.”
I laugh. “Right.”
“I’m Micah, by the way.”
“Hailey.” We shake hands.
“House party?” He points to the apartment, buzzing with noise.
“Yup. Are you coming in?”
He cocks his head. “Are you inviting me?”
I bite my fingernail. “Maybe,” I flirt back.
Micah grins and his dimples come out of hiding. Instantly, I warm up to him. I want to bury my face inside his coat and tell him my troubles. “It’s kind of a young crowd,” I warn him. “You probably have something better to do.”
“I was just waiting out the time for the next ferry to Bainbridge. I got off work late.”
“When is the next ferry?”
“I don’t really care when it is.”
“How about a drink then?”
“That would be nice.”
I bring Micah to the party and Rachel is impressed with me for finding a handsome older man in the last ten minutes. Micah makes us Manhattans with cheap whiskey and hangs with me by the houseplants in the corner. Loch Ness Monster begins to drift out of my subconscious.
“What do you do?” I act unaware.
“I research and teach at the University. Science.”
“I like science.”
“I’m glad to hear it. How about you?”
“I waitress at Triton Seafood. I just graduated.”
“I’ve been there a few times. They have good crab cakes. Maybe I’ve seen you.”
&nbs
p; “Maybe.”
He takes off his coat. I recognize the button-up he has on. I ironed it before. “I like your dress.” He touches the hem. He grazes my thigh.
I move in. “Thank you. I like your shirt.”
If I lowered my chin, I would be on his chest. I think about the first time I ever saw Micah and how he held me and touched me like he’d done it a thousand times before. I didn’t allow myself to realize it then, but it made me feel wonderful. We finish our drinks and he smashes my plastic cup in his fist.
“Do you want to see my room?” I ask girlishly.
“I do.”
We grab the cheap bottle of whisky and I lock the door behind us. We sit and drink from the bottle.
“What do they mean when they say someone has chemistry with someone? Scientifically?”
Micah swigs a drink then inserts the bottle between my thighs. “Well you see, we have these chemicals inside of us, dopamine, serotonin, testosterone, estrogen and they trigger us to find someone with a similarity, or a positive opposite.” He leans in near my neck. “And then there are things like smell and relation that conduct energy and interest. When we are kids, we often form our likes and dislikes without even knowing it.”
“I still feel like a kid sometimes.”
“That’s cute.”
I take a swig. Micah’s arm brushes my arm and our legs smash against each other. “Ask me something?” I demand.
“Sun or snow?”
“Sun.”
“A place you’ve never been?”
“The moon.”
“Time of day?”
“Twilight.”
“Your greatest wish?”
“If I told you that it might not come true.”
“Your greatest fear?”
“Not having my greatest wish come true."
“Can I kiss you?”
“Yes.”
Micah kisses me and soon we are laying on my bed and his hands have found all my hidden spots. He kisses down my neck and under my dress. I feel like I might burst. “What are we doing?” I ask him, coming up for air.
“I don’t know. But I can’t help it. You’re beautiful.”
We get under the covers. I’ve never considered that I wanted Micah before, until now, the first time we met, which is also when he said he fell in love with me. Perhaps, I also fell in love with him. Perhaps, I love him.
“Don’t go,” I ask him. “In the morning.”
There is another way out of this. I can train myself to stop caring about Chase so that going back won’t hurt anymore. All I have to do is take my heart and place it elsewhere.
“Okay.” Micah pecks at my neck. “I’ll stay. However long you want.”
I wrap my arms around him. I know I won’t be here in the morning but at least he will be and one day I will too.
26
Chase hasn't said anything since he picked me up from my parent’s house a half hour ago. He leans against the car door, as far away from me as he can get in his Volvo. He got gas in the rain and dropped off late library books and I sat quietly in the passenger seat, my hands and thoughts to myself.
It’s a few days after New Year’s and there are remnants of streamers and confetti below my feet and in the cup holder. I wonder if we had celebrated together, if we could’ve been happy just a few days before this.
“Are you hungry?” he asks me, slicing through the quiet.
“Not really.”
“Me either.” He pushes the windshield wipers to the next level. Water drips from the ends of his hair. We are feigning being a couple for the sake of something I don’t understand.
I look at Chase’s profile and this time instead of obsessing about how much I like him, I think about how much I hate him. He is not that cute or that cool. He is too blond, too perfect, too Chase. I’ve been heart-washed.
“Stop the car,” I find my voice. “I don’t want to go anywhere else with you.”
Chase pulls into the empty parking lot by the abandoned Dairy Queen. The neon sign sits unlit above us. When we were kids, we used to come here on Friday nights for Blizzards with our parents. They would let us sit alone together in a booth and eat our ice cream. Maybe it closed because we stopped coming here.
“I don’t understand you at all,” I tell him.
“I’m sorry that you don’t.”
“You make me sad,” I continue, draining my pent-up emotions. “And I’m tired of being this sad.”
Chase turns to look at me. His eyelashes seem to have grown ten inches. They hover over his pale eyes.
“I don’t want this anymore,” my words freefall. “To be with you.”
“Then don’t,” Chase doesn’t contend. “Go be happy, Hailey. It’s obvious I don’t make you.”
I sit still for a moment, as reality sets in. Then I open door and step out. I walk quickly over the ruble and rocks, without looking back. I hear Chase start the engine and drive off in the other direction and it hits me. It wasn't Chase who broke us up after all. It was me.
27
My eyes open to Micah’s open eyes. The sun streams through the slits in the blinds and makes sun tattoos over his face.
“Hello,” I greet him, pleased with my overnight journey.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
We brush our teeth in our his and her bathroom and kiss each other with minty breaths. Micah zips up my dress and I choose his tie. It comes natural now, being here.
After Fruit Loops in the den, we head to the university because, as Micah reminds me, it’s my day off and he couldn’t stand if I wasn’t with him.
Micah’s office is small and unpretentious. There’s a picture of us on his desk along with one of his late father. He plays Pandora and grades papers while I stare at his chalkboard and pretend to decipher a written equation.
“Any guesses?” He tests me.
I squint my eyes hard. “Is the answer infinity?”
He laughs. “Something like that.”
“You’re crazy smart, aren’t you?”
“Smart enough to get you.” Micah puts down his pen. “Hey, come here. You’re too far away.”
I walk over and he pulls me to him by my hips. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” I tease, fiddling with his loose tie.
“I can’t focus. You’re too adorable.” He tickles me. I pretend I can feel the tickles more than I do.
“Am I interrupting?” A man suddenly appears at the door. I stop squirming.
“Bryan.” Micah stands up. “What are you doing here?”
Bryan enters the room. He looks me up and down then reaches his hand out. “Nice to see you again, Hailey.”
I shake his hand. So, this is the Bryan I have heard so much about. “You too.”
“I like your dress,” he comments.
“Oh. Thanks.” I adjust the straps.
“So, how have you been? Micah’s been keeping you away from me.”
I don't know if I should laugh or be uncomfortable. “We’ve been busy,” I respond neutrally.
“Come on, Bryan.” Micah puts his arm around my shoulders. There is tension and I wonder why. So much about Micah is still a mystery. He has had all this time with me that I haven’t with him. “Can I talk to you outside?” he asks Bryan, or rather commands it.
Bryan hesitates.
“Now.” Micah pushes.
They leave the office and walk down the hallway. I sit in Micah’s chair and wait, trying to listen to their conversation but only catching dull voices. Eventually, Bryan walks down the stairs and Micah returns. “Everything okay?”
Micah takes a deep breath. He rubs his hands over his face. “Yes. Now it is. Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.”
Micah kneels beside me. He leans his head on my forearm. “Marry me,” he proposes.
“What?”
“I love you, Hailey. More than anything in this universe. Marry me.”
I think about how we are engaged back in the fut
ure and that I already said yes. Technically, I could say no now, but I don’t want to. I touch my face and notice my cheeks are wet.
“Okay,” I agree and kiss him. “Yes.”
28
“Time to get up Hailey.” I hear my mom’s voice. She shakes my back and I wiggle out of my hop. “The funeral is in an hour.”
“What?” I sit up quickly. My heart pounds. Who’s funeral?
My mom clasps my hands. “I know it’s hard. Especially because you and Chase don’t speak anymore. But Devon was a family friend. Devon was everyone’s friend.”
Devon. Chase’s older brother. Devon with his stories about riding a motorcycle. Devon, who got Chase his first skateboard. Devon left for college when I was nine and joined the Air Force sometime after. I saw him occasionally during the holidays. He has...had the same smile as Chase.
“Devon took us camping when we were in third grade,” I say, the only thing coming through.
“I know sweetie. It’s very sad. Come on now and get ready. I ironed that one black dress of yours, the one you wore to Julie’s party. It has sequins but it’s the only black dress you have.”
Despondently, I get out of bed and slip on the dress I don’t remember wearing before and drink the coffee my mom hands to me. “How’s Micah?” she asks while we sit and stare at the clock.
I am surprised to hear him mentioned. “Fine. He is fine.”
“That’s good. I am glad you’re with him.”
I stare into my cup. Yesterday is already far away.
I see Chase at the funeral. He is like a teenager to me still, just dressed up in a suit that doesn’t suit him. He has trimmed his hair but I can see how it yearns to grow.
I keep my eyes on him through the service and dare to stand closer when we all go to the cemetery. I stand behind him as he gathers cold dirt into his hands and dumps it over his brother’s casket. He catches the glimmer of my dress and turns to me.