“It’s not as wonderful a life as you’d think,” Alex told him, stepping up close so that they were both looking out on the street beyond. Beside him, she pointed to the spot just down the road where she’d had a gun held to her head. “I got mugged at gunpoint just there,” she said, her body breaking out in goose bumps just at the memory.
“Are you serious?” Oscar asked, shocked.
“Yeah, guy came up behind me and took everything.”
“Alex, that’s…” Oscar turned, looking at her with worried eyes. The thought flashed through his mind about what he’d have done if he’d lost her. He’d already struggled to come to terms with losing his sister; he doubted he could handle losing anyone else he loved.
Oscar shook his head, pushing away the negative thoughts.
“You’re okay now. That’s what matters,” he said seriously.
“It made me more self-aware,” Alex noted. “I’m more careful now when I go anywhere.”
Oscar moved and sat down on a desk chair that doubled as a dining chair. He ran his hands through his hair and looked sadly at the bare wooden floor.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner,” he said, his voice low.
“It’s okay,” Alex told him, positioning herself opposite him on her drop-down bed.
“But I should have called,” Oscar continued. “But for a while, I was so mad at you. Mad for leaving, mad for moving on with your life when I couldn’t move forward with my own. You somehow managed to put your past behind you, and I envied that.”
“It takes time,” Alex said softly, reaching out and placing a hand on Oscar’s knee. “You’ll get there. You are getting there.”
“Yeah.” Oscar nodded, though his eyes looked distant.
“Obviously, my apartment is embarrassingly small, so how about we go to the movies or something tonight?” Alex suggested brightly.
“That an iPad?” Oscar noticed the device on the edge of her bed.
“Huh? Yeah.” Alex shrugged, handing it to him. “Want to browse online? See what movies are showing?”
“It’s a nice machine,” Oscar said approvingly. “My folks bought me one when I was in the hospital.”
“Ashley bought me my last one, which was stolen,” Alex explained sadly.
“How is old money bags?” Oscar asked, not looking up from the small screen he was now skilfully navigating, locating cinemas close by and then checking their showings.
“She’s fine,” Alex replied. Normally she’d berate him for calling Ashley a name, but she was just pleased to see some of his old cheekiness return, so she let it slide.
“She works in politics now.”
“So the country really is doomed?” Oscar smiled wryly.
“She’s smarter than you think,” Alex said defensively.
“You’d hope so, considering she went to Princeton.”
“So, movie choice, come on, hit me.” Alex leant forward expectantly, still determined to make his trip fun, to not let him dwell on thoughts of his deceased sister or the fact that everyone was moving on with their lives except him.
“There’s so many art house cinemas here,” Oscar said approvingly.
“It’s a very diverse city.”
“I hope you’re taking full advantage of it!”
“Actually, I’m not,” Alex said guiltily. “All I do is work. I need you to help me start making the most of living here.”
“Okay, well, that starts tonight!” Oscar announced dramatically, a flash of his old flair returning.
“There’s a revival house nearby,” he continued excitedly, handing the iPad across to Alex so she could see the details for herself.
“They are showing the original Wicker Man for one week only. I’ve always dreamt of seeing it on the big screen. We’ve got to go.” He looked at Alex, and his eyes sparkled with joy. He was finally looking more like the boy she’d met at college, back when his enthusiasm and lust for life was utterly contagious. She wanted to recapture that magic, to bring him back to life.
Alex looked at the iPad and smiled, not wanting to admit that she’d never before heard of the movie.
“That sounds great.”
“You’ve never heard of it, have you?” Oscar smiled, recognizing the vague look in her eyes that she got whenever he mentioned one of his favorite films or bands.
“Nope, never,” Alex admitted, smiling shyly.
“Well, Alexandra Heron, prepared to be educated!”
****
“So this is Broadway?” Oscar mused as they walked along the sidewalk to the theater.
“Yep, this is it.” Alex nodded, shrinking further into her coat against the sharpening cold.
“I always imagined it to be… grander,” Oscar admitted, glancing round at the aged buildings and the small theaters dotted around the area.
In his mind he had imagined opulence and grandeur. Theater but on an excessively large scale, but Broadway appeared demure and reserved. He’d expected the spectacle of a Las Vegas show and so was pleasantly surprised to find it all to be quite the opposite.
“I like it,” he confirmed, turning to smile at Alex, who was walking beside him, rubbing her gloved hands together.
“It’s understated,” he added approvingly.
“How about we reserve judgement until we’ve actually seen the show?” Alex suggested as they arrived at the theater and gratefully hustled out of the cold into the small foyer area.
As Alex glanced around at her fellow theater-goers, she had to admit that she agreed with Oscar. She had expected something much larger in scale. The foyer area was surprisingly small, with worn carpets and faded walls. It seemed surreal to think that beyond the doors, there was a theater where one of the most famous shows in the world was being staged.
“I can’t believe you talked me into seeing a musical.” Oscar shook his head in disapproval as he scanned through the programme he’d just bought from a vendor by the doorway.
“You’ll like it, trust me.”
“But there’s music.” Oscar moaned.
“And a strong story,” Alex countered. “You need to have faith in this one, Deloitte. I predict that you are going to love Chicago.”
Oscar wasn’t so certain, but he smiled nonetheless. He was enjoying Alex’s company. He had feared that it would feel strange and awkward to spend time with an ex-girlfriend, but they had easily fallen into the friendly rhythm quite naturally.
The previous night he had declined the bed Alex had kindly offered him, instead sleeping on the hard wooden floor in a sleeping bag he’d had the foresight to bring with him. Though his back still ached in protest at the decision, he knew it was the right thing to do to respect the boundaries that now existed between them. Bed sharing was for couples, not friends. Oscar thought too much of Alex to risk blurring those lines when they were finally starting to warm to one another again.
Doors creaked open at the end of the foyer, and the waiting audience began to filter into the modest auditorium.
“So have you seen it before?” Oscar asked as they began to walk through with the throng.
“I’ve seen the movie,” Alex admitted.
“Oh, great.” Oscar sighed dramatically. “I caught glimpses of Mamma Mia when my mom was watching it. I swear, if this is anything like Mamma Mia…”
“Oscar, just relax and enjoy it.” Alex ceased moving momentarily to turn and face him, her eyes locking on his with stern intensity.
“Okay, okay.” He lifted his hands up in defeat and smiled cheekily. “Let’s go watch this show named after a city.”
“Stop moaning.”
“I’m not moaning,” Oscar countered.
“You are, and we haven’t even sat down yet!” Alex lamented, noticing how an older couple close by were studying them. Noticing they had an audience made her cheeks suddenly inflame.
“Sorry, you’re just so like we used to be.” The woman smiled, her tone friendly. “We used to banter back and forth all the time, didn�
�t we, dear?” She turned to the man she was with.
“I’ve just been subdued into silence over time,” the man joked. “It’s a by-product of marriage.”
Both Alex and Oscar smiled politely, not wanting to reveal that they were actually a couple of the past, not the present.
Finally seated, the lights in the theater dimmed, and the velvet curtain covering the stage began to slowly rise.
“You better be right about this, Heron,” Oscar whispered in a mock threatening way.
“I’m always right,” Alex quipped, throwing him a mischievous smile.
****
Back in the cool night air, they walked back towards the subway station, the people around them thinning out as everyone went their separate ways.
“So?” Alex asked impatiently.
“So what?” Oscar replied, looking straight ahead, not turning to face her.
“So what did you think of the show?” Alex continued, reaching for his arm and grabbing him to stop him walking any further ahead.
Oscar refused to meet her eyes, glancing furtively around. He shifted awkwardly on the spot, which Alex knew wasn’t from the cold.
“You liked it!” she declared triumphantly, reading his body language.
“I didn’t say that!” Oscar objected.
“Well then, did you enjoy it?” Alex asked, placing her hands on her hips in a defiant posture.
“Urgh.” Oscar sighed and finally met her eyes. “You’re such an annoying woman, you know that?”
“Answer the question.” Alex ordered, her voice cool and level.
“Fine, yes, I really enjoyed it,” Oscar conceded.
“Ha! I knew it!” Alex pivoted on the spot in glee.
“Don’t gloat.”
“I’m not gloating, well, maybe a little. I took your musical virginity, and you enjoyed it!” Alex giggled.
“Well, it was good,” Oscar defended, his tone pitched.
“Did you have a favorite song?” Alex asked teasingly.
Oscar stopped walking once more and stood before her, swaying a little. Then, like a mime he held his hands before him and sang the lines of one of the songs from the show.
Seeing him act it out made Alex erupt in a fit of hearty laughter, causing her to double over and clutch at her chest.
“What, am I that bad?” Oscar laughed.
“You just look… funny doing… that.” Alex struggled to catch her breath and respond.
“Glad I amuse you so much.” Oscar smiled.
“Oh dear.” Alex wiped tears from her eyes, still laughing in short bursts. As they continued walking, her laughter subsided altogether, and she became more serious.
“I’m having fun,” she admitted. “I’m glad you came to visit.”
“Me too,” Oscar agreed, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close.
****
In the darkness of the apartment Alex lay in her bed and watched the ceiling as passing headlights from cars danced in light patterns across it.
“Your place is noisy,” Oscar commented from his makeshift bed on the floor.
“You get used to it,” Alex replied, though in fairness she wasn’t sure she ever would. Just when she thought she’d acclimatised to the sounds of the city, she’d wake in the middle of the night with a start at the squealing of a siren thundering past.
“Like, where are people going?” Oscar continued. “It’s, like, one in the morning, and the cars outside are like rush-hour traffic back home.”
“Well, the city is famous for not sleeping.”
“But we need to sleep.”
Alex shifted her weight so that she was looking towards the window, where the cheap curtains she’d bought did little to block the streetlights from outside. It was comforting to hear Oscar’s voice. Talking together on the cusp of sleep reminded her of how often she’d fallen asleep in his arms, talking about everything and nothing. They would lie entwined together and put the world to rights. On those nights, it was as if nothing else existed beyond their bed, that they were the center of everything. She missed that feeling, that security. But as Oscar changed, the feeling seeped away. She remembered the night when she’d woken up and found herself alone; Oscar had stolen away up to the roof of the building, sulking. That had been the first crack in their relationship, when she began to lose her blind faith in him.
“You’re all better now, right?” Alex asked, her voice soft and nonjudgmental. She was keen to use her time in the city with Oscar to assess how he was doing and, more importantly, ensure that he was thinking about his future and feeling positive about the world beyond college.
“Well, they let me out,” Oscar replied ambiguously.
“So, now you’re out, do you think about what you’ll do next? Like, your future?” Alex kept her voice light, careful not to antagonize her guest. The subject of the future had always been a sensitive one for him, but he surprised her with his upbeat response.
“Actually, yeah, I’ve been thinking about it all and made some plans.”
“You have?” Alex sat up, startled and intrigued to hear more. Oscar had always been so dead set against making plans.
“Don’t sound so surprised.” Oscar chuckled. “In the hospital, I had nothing but time, and being in there made me take a long, hard look at my life.”
“So what are these plans?”
“I’ll tell you, but you can’t laugh.”
“Why would I laugh?” Alex queried, bemused.
“Just don’t.”
“Are you joining the circus or something? Oscar, is your dream to be a clown?” Alex teased.
“You’ll laugh.”
“Oscar, I won’t. I promise,” she said sincerely, drawing closer to the end of the bed so she could make him out in the faint light. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, watching the patterns of headlights passing by as she had been doing.
“Okay, well.” He turned on his side to face her. In the dull light his eyes sparkled as though they had their own power source, twinkling in the darkness.
He took a deep breath and then blurted out his plans.
“I’m going into teaching. Before you say anything, I know how crazy it sounds. I was hardly a model student. But I want to teach English, and Princeton has agreed that I can come back for a year to get my qualification.”
“Oscar, that’s amazing!” Alex beamed. She was shocked at how grounded his plans were. Previously, Oscar dreamt of writing an Oscar-winning screenplay or being in the next Nirvana. His dreams were always so big, but being a teacher was obtainable. It was a dream rooted in practicality and so unlike him.
“Being a teacher would be great, but it’s…” Alex trailed off, not sure how to proceed.
“But it’s not very me,” Oscar concluded the sentence for her.
“Well, yeah,” Alex admitted.
“I know it doesn’t seem like the perfect fit for me, but it is. I love being challenged, and I love literature. And I could use my experiences to reach out and help other troubled kids.”
“That’s very noble.”
“Alex, you showed me that life carries on. I can’t sit around and let my youth just pass me by. I need to make something of myself. I need to honor Olivia’s death.” The sparkle in Oscar’s eyes was muted by gathering tears.
“I’m proud of you, Oscar,” Alex said, her own eyes growing wet with emotion. “All I ever wanted was for you to plan a future of your own and be happy.”
“I’m definitely trying,” Oscar admitted. “And my folks are really happy about it. I realize now that I was stupid to try to kill myself, to put them through it. It was selfish.”
“Oscar, you were unwell.”
“Well, I’m trying to get better now. I have something to work towards and focus on.” His serious expression fell away, and his cheeky smile returned.
“Thanks for not laughing.” He smiled.
“I was holding it in; it wasn’t easy.” Alex smirked.
“Yeah, yeah.�
�� Oscar continued to smile. “So anyway, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”
“Mamma Mia,” Alex joked, her tone deadpan. “Chicago was merely the musical warm up.”
“Very funny.”
“I was thinking we could go round Central Park and the Natural History Museum.”
“Sounds good.” Oscar smiled just as outside a police car hurtled past, sirens screaming out into the night, briefly illuminating the small room in blue light.
“Seriously, how do you sleep here?” Oscar laughed.
****
Oscar looked down at the tiled circle, which was faintly dusted with sparkling frost. Each breath he took billowed before him like a cloud of smoke. Fall, it seemed, had departed the city the previous night as they slept, and winter had eagerly taken its place.
“Imagine.” He spoke aloud the word emblazoned in the center of the circle, a tribute to John Lennon, the member of the Beatles who had been shot and killed in the city many years ago. Beside him, Alex also glanced down at the word. The memorial circle was even more poignant for them as they’d both lost someone, in particular Alex, whose father had been killed by a gunman.
“I thought you’d want to see this,” Alex said, her own breath misting before her as she leant against him.
“Yeah.” Oscar put an arm around her, and she nestled into his warmth. It felt good to be so close to him; it felt comfortable.
But before, each time Oscar had held her close, her body would pulsate with longing, the sexual spark between them just waiting to catch fire. But now the heat of desire was gone, replaced by the warmth of friendship. Alex enjoyed his company, had missed him, but leaning against him, she didn’t feel the same urges she once had, the same attraction.
She wondered if it was because she or Oscar had changed, or maybe both of them. The summer apart seemed to have robbed them of their final feelings for one another, dousing the dying embers of the torch they had for one another.
“It feels nice hanging out together,” Alex said aloud, wanting to see how Oscar felt about it all, if his lack of romantic interest mirrored her own.
“Yeah,” Oscar agreed vaguely, his eyes still upon the tiled memorial.
Living with Love (Lessons in Love) Page 8