Plans
This story came to me while I was climbing and listening to the song "Plans" by Birds of Tokyo. It's not long; I wrote it in one night, and I am not even sure if it works... but it made me cry while writing it, so maybe it's alright.
I park my motorcycle in the parking lot of a 7-11. It's mid-June, and I have just finished my master's degree. I am so glad we are taking this trip. Together.
I look over and see you. You're thin, pale, and beautiful. Your tight black curls frame your brilliant green eyes, and you smile that secret smile of yours. Ever since we met back in first year, we have been making plans. I want to tour Europe. You want to kiss the sun at night. My plans are beyond our means, but we live in a country where your plans are possible.
So, we are finally making that road trip to the Yukon before we start our lives for real. It's close to the summer solstice and, if we go far enough north, the sun will be up for most of the night.
You walk over to me, brushing my arm as you pass, sending a shiver through my core. What you do to me. What you have always done to me.
As we get on the bike, you put your arms around me, and your sleeve blows back. I see the track marks on your arms and the rows of older scars from cuts healed long ago.
After focusing on graduating for so long, the constant reading and studying, it doesn't feel right to be doing nothing but riding into the sun. But we talked about this trip for so long, and we are finally taking it.
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I remember the day that we met. It was in a pretentious philosophy class, taught by an old pretentious man. You sat beside me and smiled that secret smile of yours. You were achingly beautiful. You were thin even back then, not like now, but still very thin.
I leaned over and whispered, "I just met you, but I can read your thoughts."
You smiled and whispered back, "So what am I am thinking?"
"You're asking yourself, 'Is this handsome fellow sitting beside me going to ask me out?'"
"Is that what I am thinking?" she replied with a laugh. "So, is he?"
"You'll have to wait until the end of the class to find out. Now shush, I'm learning philosophy here."
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Three hours on the road, time for the first stop. I get two bottles of water even though I know you're not thirsty. We quickly fill up the tank and then get back on the road. I feel your arms wrapped tightly around my stomach and it feels like home.
------
It's after class and you look over at me expectantly, but I don't say a word. You break the silence first, "Alright, I will have dinner with you, if you insist."
I smile and take your hand. It fits seamlessly with mine; you begin where I end.
"Where are we going on this illustrious date?" you ask.
"Who said this was a date?"
"Okay, well where are we going on our not-a-date Mr. Mystery Man."
"Where we're going, no one knows."
You give me a look that says that I am skating on thin ice, but you don't let go of my hand. We walk together for a while, until we reach the biology building which is down by the river. I use my pass to let us in the back door, and I take you to the vending machines in the basement.
"All that you see is yours, my beautiful new friend. Pick anything, savory or sweet, and I will place it in your waiting hands."
You roll your eyes and call me a dork, but you eventually make your choice. You get a Coke and a Snickers bar; I get a Sprite and a package of Smarties.
"Those are fine choices," I say. "Now on to our mystery destination."
I lead you up to the fifth floor and then through a couple of nondescript doors and down a short corridor until we emerge into a small, enclosed garden on the roof. You are surrounded by wildflowers and long grasses, and the wind tugs at your hair. The garden was planted by some long-forgotten professor or grad student and has flourished despite its neglect.
I lay down a blanket for you with a flourish and ask, "Shall we dine?"
You laugh and give me a hesitant smile, "You're very charming, but you know this doesn't feel right... I feel like I am intruding on someone else's secret place."