Draw Me In

by Megan Squires

  Though Walker had annoyed me with his ramblings earlier, I’d give anything in this moment to know my chances with Leo. But that was one statistic I doubted I’d be able to determine. And that might be a good thing, because that’s what love was about, wasn’t it? Taking chances when the outcome was uncertain. Living and hoping when you weren’t sure what tomorrow held.

  But I did know what my tomorrow would be like. It would involve me and a packed suitcase and a nine-hour flight back to New York City and a Leo who wouldn’t be joining me as a passenger on that plane.

  For as much confidence as I placed in our future, that reality felt like it just knocked several percentages off from our hopeful statistic.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  You know when you go through customs and they ask you to declare anything you’re bringing back into the country? Like we all share this big old rotating world, but we’ve delineated these imaginary boundaries and borders, etched onto continents and parceled out landscapes like drawing a line in the sand. We can inhabit the same earth, utilize the same gravitational force that keeps all of our feet stuck to the ground rather than kicking out languidly in the air like we’re swimming through atmosphere, but we can’t bring an apple from Canada into the U.S. without filling out a binding, legal document declaring its fruity arrival.

  Some things about the way the world worked just didn’t make sense to me.

  Anyway, I cried when they asked me if I had anything. Because I wasn’t bringing anything—or anyone—with me. Luckily, Ian was there to pick up my pieces and get me through the endlessly long line, to baggage claim, and back into a cab to take us home to our apartment tucked in between the high-rise folds and ribbons of brick and mortar that made up New York City. I wasn’t sure I would’ve been able to navigate that on my own, though I’d done it countless times in the past after our international travels. Some days a girl just needed a little extra guidance.

  And things were different now. There was a sadness that coated all of my actions and thoughts like some bitter icing spread over my being. Like when you expected the treat of a cupcake topped in sweet vanilla, only to realize it was cream cheese frosting masquerading as a real form of sugar worthy to be whipped into a fluffy ornamentation. Cheese was not a dessert, even when it hijacked its way onto the dessert menu in platter form. There were some things that just couldn’t pass for truth. My fake attempt at pasting on a convincing smile and a warm, confident everything-will-be-alright demeanor was one of those things. I was all cheese, fake and bitter.

  I hated it. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t one of those tormented and depressed artists that created from the darkness of their emotion. I was light. I was airy. Maybe sometimes a little too airy, bordering on the side of air-headedness, but that was okay. I liked me. Leo liked me. But this brooding girl? Not so much.

  I honestly wasn’t sure where this sorrow came from. It wasn’t like Leo and I were over. He’d made that extremely clear. But the thought of being apart from him when I was just beginning to feel like such a part of him was a blow, a suicide vest strapped to my chest, only to detonate after arriving on my own soil once again.

  But it didn’t detonate.

  Instead, I waited for it. That nervous, inevitable countdown. The fiery red digital glow that ticked off one more second of my happiness until my world would be over in a blast of delusion.

  It hadn’t happened yet, but I felt the crushing weight of the vest constrict my ribs with each breath I took.

  It felt like we were over.

  Eva and her mom were gone when our cab pulled up to the loft. Apparently Leo had footed the bill to have them relocated to a nearby hotel. It was a nice gesture, but one that made the permanence of what he was doing all the more real. He’d thought this out. He’d prepared for it. I hadn’t even been in Italy a week yet, but I wondered how long this had been in the works. It didn’t feel like an overnight decision anymore. It felt too intentional for it to be one. That sort of sucked.

  “Home sweet home,” Ian sang after digging his key out from inside his pants. The door to our loft swung open and that familiar scent washed over me. It used to be my favorite smell, the way it wrapped me in a transparent hug each time I returned home. The combination of the cinnamon roll flavored candle I purchased last year to cover up Ian’s failed attempt at bananas flambé, and our adjacent neighbor’s Indian food aroma that seeped in through the vents, curling into our air that we breathed in and pushed out. It became a part of us, an ingredient in our very breath, which was probably why there was a comfort in the scent of it.

  But now I had a new favorite smell. That smell was Leo. I’d resolved not to wash any of my clothes from the trip, and instead would cling to the scent that still lingered on them for as long as I could. Or at least until he came to join me in the U.S.

  That was only supposed to be a week. One week from now and we would not only be on the same continent again, but in the same city. Hopefully in one another’s arms. Possibly in each other’s beds. A week wouldn’t break me. I could do this.

  “You hungry?” Ian tossed his duffle bag onto the couch.

  Eva and her mom left the place spotless. Much cleaner than Ian and I had ever kept it. All of those dust bunnies had been murdered and there was no sign of dirt or filth anywhere, no trace of the neglect that had become a part of our apartment like an extra piece of furniture or artwork hung above the mantle. The kind that you didn’t even see when you passed by because its familiar existence had become a sort of background blur.

  It made me feel guilty that they’d only spent a few days here and cleaned up a few years worth of grime that wasn’t theirs, but I was grateful to come home to a pristine apartment. In its own little way, it made the transition just a bit easier. They’d eliminated some of the unnecessary clutter from my life. The frustrating nag that constantly chirped in your ear of the responsibilities you disregarded while living out life. You wouldn’t think that having a clean apartment would do all of that, but it did. It peeled away the unnecessary so I could focus on the essential.

  Like how to clean up the mess of my heart.

  “Hungry, Jules?” Ian asked again.

  “I could eat. What were you thinking?” My suitcase joined his on the futon and I hopped up onto one of the barstools.

  “Chinese?”

  “After last time?” I questioned.

  “You’re right. Maybe not.” Ian pulled his phone out of his pocket and swiped the screen. “How about pizza?”

  “That I can do.”

  Twenty minutes later and one pretty darn adorable pizza guy was standing on the other side of our door.

  “Joshua!” I reached for the cardboard box with one hand and swung my other arm around him in an embrace. Our cheeks pressed together as I asked, “How have you been?”

  “You mean during the past five days you’ve been away?” When put that way it really sounded short. “Pretty decent. Though I did miss this guy every waking minute.” Joshua’s finger flicked toward Ian who was at my back, waiting to sweep his boyfriend into his own welcoming hug.

  “The feeling was mutual, believe me.”

  I sidestepped out of their way and gave the two some privacy by heading to the kitchen to retrieve paper plates and a roll of paper towels. Ian already had a wine bottle uncorked and three of our Murano glasses filled with a burgundy colored liquid. Snagging one for myself and two slices of the pineapple and ham pizza, I flopped down onto the futon and dug in.

  As I munched on a piece, it made me wonder what Leo’s favorite kind of pizza was. When we boiled things down, we really didn’t know much about one another. Things like favorite colors and foods and movies or songs. But none of that mattered to me. Those were the things that revealed themselves as time ticked on. They were the daily discoveries you made as you shared one another’s company. We’d get to that point. We just needed to be together in order for that to happen.

  “So, was the trip all you thought it would be and more?” J
oshua sat down immediately at my right, his knee pressing into my crisscrossed legs that were tucked up underneath my body. He was wearing a navy blue shirt that had our college logo stamped across the chest and grey sweatpants that looked not only comfortable, but also remarkably stylish for sweats. Only he could pull that off.

  “It was.”

  I could have elaborated, but I honestly didn’t know where to start. A lot happened in that short timeframe. From kissing Leo’s ex-fiancée to having a Texas-sized showdown with his best friend, I had enough fodder to tell stories at our holiday parties for at least the next five years. Somehow, I knew that wasn’t what Joshua was looking for. And somehow, I didn’t want to share any of that.

  “And? Where’s Leo?” He swiveled his head like an owl, like maybe we were hiding him somewhere in our tiny apartment. Oh how fun would that be? If Leo were tucked away and suddenly jumped out to surprise us like those strippers that leapt out of cakes. Why hadn’t I thought to do that back at his birthday party? That would have erased Sofia’s little topless sunbathing memory for sure.

  But then I remembered that Leo didn’t even like cake. If I was going to do it right, I’d have to pop out of a vat of gelato, and that just sounded all kinds of sticky and slightly unhygienic. Not to mention I’d be showering for days to get all of that sugar residue out of my unmentionables. Kind of like when you went to the beach and found sand in places where the sun don’t shine a week later. I’d have to do some brainstorming on that one.

  “Leo’s in Italy,” I answered, finally. “He should be back next week.” Should being the operative word. That was the tentative plan. “Until then, it’s back to the daily grind for me.”

  “Ah,” Joshua nodded. “Just in time for finals.”

  “Yep.” Finals. That’s what I was here for, wasn’t it? To finish out my college career. To start checking things off of my to-do list. To get one step closer to my happily ever after. “And I’m hoping to get back to work. That is, if the coffee shop will take me back.”

  Ian sidled up beside us, holding a slice of pepperoni pizza in one hand, his wine in the other. He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his gray Henley before saying, “I’m sure they will, Love. I bet Cara and Rick have been floundering without their star barista.”

  I figured they’d rehire me too, but the only problem was that I didn’t feel any less of a flounder than they probably did. And we were supposed to be running a coffeehouse, not working at the Shedd Aquarium. But I needed to get back into my old routine if I was going to stay occupied as I waited out this time of separation. Things had to be the way they were before, because I didn’t want to even think about creating a new normal unless Leo was going to be part of it.

  So even though I knew he’d be completely opposed to the idea, I put my future temporarily on hold.

  I was going to wait for him until he was able to live life with me.

  In fairness, I think maybe I’d been waiting for him all along.

  ***

  “It’s like you never left!” Cara cooed, clasping her hands together tightly in front of her chest. She was ecstatic to have me back. Apparently during my sabbatical they’d hired a guy named Dustin that not only beat my record for the number of cups broken during one shift, but he’d also somehow swapped out the decaf and caffeinated for an entire day and as a result, had several bug-eyed, jittery customers to explain his mishap to. Made my espresso disaster seem a little less catastrophic. As awful as it was to admit, I kind of liked when other’s failures made my own failures seem just a bit less fail-worthy. There was plenty of room for all of us to co-exist together. The world was full of screw-ups and the accident-prone. What was one more to add to the fold?

  I used that logic to convince Cara to keep Dustin on staff. It wasn’t right for me to take his job just because I decided to waltz back into the shop. I’d train him and show him the ropes and hope he didn’t completely fall off of them as he tightrope walked for this circus we had going on here. It was my little way of giving back, because let’s face it, I had totally sold out on Cara and Rick for a guy. Luckily, they understood Leo wasn’t just any guy. Luckily, they’d given me all of their support to go chase out that dream.

  But now here I was, back at home, Leo-less.

  I brewed up my last order for the day and slung my apron onto the hook as I entered the break room at the back of the store.

  “See you tomorrow?” Dustin asked around a mouthful of tuna salad. He was a freshman at UVA studying graphic design. He wanted to go into video game graphics, which would be a good fit because he constantly made these noises that sounded like old-school Nintendo sound effects. It was a bit like being in a real-life Super Mario game with all the one-ups and extra lives, golden coins and such. We’d get backed up at the counter and it was as though he’d gotten that star that made you run super fast as he wove in and out behind the register. I swear his body even began flashing in rainbow colors like it did in the game. Or maybe I was seeing things.

  “Yep. Bright and early. Got the morning shift.”

  “Me too,” Dustin mumbled with a lopsided grin.

  I’d promised to demonstrate my infamous latte foam art tomorrow, and the thought of teaching made me temporarily forget the fact that Leo was supposed to be coming home today, though I had yet to hear from him.

  The past seven days trudged by about as quickly as a death dirge. It had to have been some sort of unconscious coincidence, but I’d donned black all week to coincide with my mournful mood. For a brief moment, I’d even entertained the idea of dying my hair to really pull it all off, but luckily Ian slapped me silly and instructed me to snap out of it. Goth didn’t look good on me, though I did challenge him, stating the fact that I could make myself look like one frighteningly realistic zombie. Ian vetoed that idea and I was grateful for his direction and ability to pull me back down to reality. I clearly needed some help.

  I gathered my purse from my coffee shop locker and hoisted it over my shoulder as I pulled my phone out from inside and pushed on the door to exit.

  No new messages. No texts.

  I fired another one off.

  Is today the day? I’ve got a surprise for you that may or may not involve a bathtub full of gelato.

  If that didn’t demand a response, I’m not sure what would. Maybe I should include the word naked in there. Even illiterate guys seemed to be able to recognize that word.

  I dropped the phone back into my bag and began my walk home.

  The city had transitioned from spring into the sticky, humid beginnings of summer, and I hadn’t adjusted my wardrobe to meet that change yet. My sweater clung to my stomach, sweat gathering just above my waistline. Though I didn’t really have that tub of gelato for Leo, a tub of cold water sounded just as refreshing. I loved New York, but I could definitely do without the sweltering heat that threatened to melt me on a daily basis.

  I could also do without the crowds.

  For some reason, everyone decided to join me on the sidewalk today. I pressed in and out of businessmen and women, their briefcases ramming into my thighs as I wove through the streets. There were nannies with strollers used as bumper cars that collided against one another and college students like myself that hustled from one class to another. It was a mess of chaos masquerading as order and routine because we did this everyday. There was always a rush that vibrated in the streets. You’d rarely ever see someone walking to his or her destination. These sidewalks were not meant for the leisurely stroll. We had a gigantic park for that, don’t get me wrong. There were places you could slow down your pace, but this block wasn’t one of them.

  So my lazy movements didn’t fit in.

  As I rounded the corner to head toward the loft, I spotted the beast.

  No, seriously. He was a beast. Like as in wild unkempt hair and claws the size of daggers. His face was coated in synthetic fur at least three inches long and the paint that covered his eyelids and cheekbones shaped his masculine features into those belongi
ng to an animal you’d encounter in the forest. Dark rimmed lashes, a raccoon’s dark mask. A circling mane of a lion, clinging to his cheeks and jaw.

  “Hey!” I shouted, pushing up onto my toes to catch a better glimpse. There were at least a dozen people between us, and I could hardly see his head as it bobbed above the rest. “Walker!”

  I didn’t think he could hear me, and that was probably due to the fact that he had these pointy rubber ears adhered to his own. I picked up my speed, elbowing people out of the way as I inched closer.

  Five dirty looks and kick against my ankle and I screamed, “Walker, stop!”

  But he didn’t, and instead kept his determined effort moving forward. If I didn’t break into a full on run, I was going to lose him.

  “Stop that beast!” I shouted, but no one took notice. I knew that New York got away with a lot, but this was not normal. A life-sized animal-man and a pint-sized woman chasing after him? Come on. Someone had to take notice and help a girl out, right?

  Um, no. Unfortunately, I was on my own in this.

  I gripped my bag at my side and began running full force. Feet slapping the concrete in angry claps. Most people would run away from someone dressed like Walker, but he had answers I needed, so I pushed and jabbed and snaked my way to him, completely out of breath once I had him in my sights.

  “Walker!” I yelled once more, apparently loud enough for him to hear this time because he spun on his heels. I was suddenly staring straight at that hairy face.

  “Julie?” His eyes expanded. I wasn’t sure why he wore the look of guilt, but it instantly made my stomach curl with apprehension. Maybe I shouldn’t have tracked him down like this. That wasn’t the greeting I was hoping for. “What are you doing here?” His eyes flashed wildly, paranoid.