I had finished my exams earlier that afternoon, and headed straight out into town. I was alone, but happy. I ended up in a small, dark music space, heaving with people; aggressive, political punk thrashed at my eardrums. After a few too many beers, I was jumping, dancing, enjoying the throb of the bass, the sweat and the heat. I stopped to catch my breath and turned around briefly – and that's when I caught her eye.
She was a little taller than me, with a shaven head and a scruffy old t-shirt. Her eyes sparkled through the darkness, and the hint of a smile on her lips made my heart melt. I'd seen her around before, but I never realised how beautiful she was. I wanted to reach out and say something to her, but the moment passed; I lost her in the crowd again, and forgot about her.
The next time I saw her was in the summer. There was a festival in the park – stalls, music, politics and hippies – so many hippies – all in one bright, blurry crowd. The sun was gorgeous and hot, and there was a hint of marijuana in the soft breeze. I took a stroll through the grass, and she was selling pie for animal rights. I walked over. My knees were weak, and it took an enormous effort to put one foot in front of the other. My eyes were carefully, painfully, glued to the path ahead of me, and my cheeks were burning crimson. Like a schoolgirl with a crush, I hardly dared look at her.
When I reached the stall, my lips stretched themselves into a foolish grin, and finally I looked up at her. The sunlight reflected off her face, and I took a moment to admire her features – somehow both flawed and perfect in equal measure. She said some words to me, and I stumbled over a response and ended up with a slice of pie. I was too in awe of her to remember what we talked about.
As I hurried away, my heart felt ready to burst. I sat under a tree to eat the pie and bask in the glory of having spoken to her.
It felt like forever until I saw her again. Months had gone by, and the balmy summer had given way to a miserable, drizzly autumn. The dark clouds in the sky were a perfect mirror of my mood. Not a single day passed where I didn't think of her. My heart leapt every time I thought I saw her. I spent all my quiet moments contemplating her face, her eyes, her smile. I blushed at my own thoughts sometimes, the ones that made me wriggle around in my seat, aching and yearning for her. It seemed ridiculous in some ways, that a near stranger could have captivated my heart so intensely, but everything about it felt right.
I decided on a whim to stop by a gig on the way home from visiting some friends in another city. I had work to do, but I told myself I'd only stay for one drink. The music and dancing were in full swing when I arrived; there was barely space to stand. I cracked open a cider and found a couple of people to dance with. I tried to keep track of the time, sternly telling myself I should leave soon, but there was a cheap bar and I persuaded myself another drink was okay... and another, and then a few more.
The night was getting rowdy, as we all laughed and danced together in an energetic mass of sweaty bodies. The room was stiflingly hot, I'd been elbowed by overenthusiastic moshers more times than I could count and my legs were tired. The lure of the fresh air outside became irresistible, and I fought my way out through the crowds.
The night breeze was wonderfully cool on my face, and I breathed a satisfied sigh as I sat down on a step outside. I stared ahead of me at the boarded up windows of the warehouse across the street, peacefully ignoring the drunken debates in the air around me. It was spotting with refreshing rain, and I nodded my head slowly to the rhythm of the music floating through the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blur of black, peach and ginger swagger over and sit next to me.
My heart leapt into my mouth, and I nearly choked on my cider.
"I wasn't expecting to see you here."
Her voice was husky and sweet, and I felt myself trembling as I looked up.
"I just stopped by on my way home. I was only meant to have one drink..."
She chuckled. "I know how that goes." She dug around in her pocket for a pouch of tobacco. "Do you want a spliff?"
I nodded, a little dumbstruck, and she began carefully rolling, intense concentration on her face as she made sure everything was just perfect. I wished I knew what to say to her, but everything that came into my head sounded crazy, foolish, pathetic. I made small talk about the bands that were playing as she nodded, licking the paper and twisting the end.
