Fluke

by David Elliott

  “Bye, Flukey,” I called out. “Tell Sara I love her.”

  I finished off the bottle of whiskey and, miraculously, I didn’t wreck and die on the drive home. Funny how that happens.

  ****

  My first two classes that day went by quickly and uneventfully. Lectures, notes, assignments doled out. I took it all in silently, finding that when I tried, I actually had a pretty good aptitude for college, for learning. I just hadn’t been serious about it before.

  The professor dismissed us early, and I scooped my things into my bag for my stroll across campus. My third and final class that day was a pretty good hike, and I was always thankful when we got out early. My next teacher was a true ass about tardiness. My suggestion of changing our class time by 5-10 minutes, to allow for more walking time, had only marked me as a trouble maker. I didn’t make any suggestions after that.

  I zoned out as I walked along the tree-lined path. I passed the bookstore, where I used to work and didn’t recognize the employees. I wondered briefly if Joggin’ Jennifer, my old co-worker, was still around, when I heard someone calling my name.

  “Hey Adam! Over here!” I turned in the direction of the voice and saw Heather running toward me. She looked great.

  “Hi, Heather. Wow. Long time no see, huh?” I asked her when she caught up with me.

  “Too long, Adam. How are you?” I could tell by the tone of her voice that she knew what happened. Sean had probably told her.

  “Oh, good…you know. Just going to class. I have History in a few,” I told her, nodding my head towards the building at the outskirts of the campus. “What are you doing here?”

  “I started taking some classes again this semester,” she said. “Man, you should have heard Perry when I told him I could no longer work the early shift.” She laughed, and I joined her, feeling honestly good for the first time in months. There had always been something about Heather.

  “So, yeah, I’m back in school,” she continued. “It’s funny. I’m doing so much better than before…maybe I’ve matured or something,” she said, laughing lightly again, slapping me lightly on the arm. “I have sure missed you, Adam,” she added.

  I cleared my throat and told her, “I missed you, too, Heather.” This verbal acknowledgement and realization of my own caught me off guard. I actually had missed her. I was extremely happy to see her. I suddenly regretted not calling her a long time ago; it might have made the last year a bit more bearable.

  “Good,” she said, smiling. “So…”

  “So?” I replied, and surprisingly, she blushed. At least I think she blushed. Maybe not.

  “Well, Adam. Do you want to go out tonight? Catch up with each other and all that?” she asked.

  I looked at this lovely woman standing in front of me. I thought about the nightmarish year that I had just gone through, but watching Heather stand patiently in front of me, waiting for an answer, I felt something let go. I felt my reservations begin to sneak out the window as yet another beautiful woman asked me out. I smiled at her. Why had I never realized just how beautiful she was?

  “I’d love to, Heather,” I told her.

  “Good, Fluke,” she told me, taking out a pen and scrap of paper and writing her cell phone number down for me. She smiled, said she had to go, and was off so quickly that I wondered if I hadn’t imagined the entire meeting. I glanced down at my watch and saw I was going to be late to Eckhardt’s class. Again. Unless I had paused on my own for 10 minutes in the middle of the pavement, then I really had bumped into Heather. I smiled and continued my walk to class at a leisurely pace.

  I was going to be late, but it really didn’t matter. What mattered was that, for the first time in a very long time, what felt like an entire lifetime, I felt like everything was going to be just fine.

  With a lighter step, I continued my walk.

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  David Elliott is a Florida native currently living in North Carolina. He is a father of four daughters, and he has spent time in Florida, Nebraska, Germany, South Korea, Bosnia, and Iraq. He has been writing since he was a teenager and has completed a number of short stories. Fluke is his first completed novel and he is currently working on his next novel, Cherokee Spleen.

  Bart Hopkins is originally from Galveston, Texas, but has lived in Mississippi, Louisiana, Tennessee, South Korea, and Germany. His passions include reading, traveling, photography, writing, and sharing time with his beautiful wife and children. This is his first novel.

  Combined, the authors have 38 years of service in the U.S. Air Force. The brunt of Fluke was conceived and written during their back-to-back deployments to Bosnia in 2001-2002.