I checked the clock again for the fifth time this evening. It had moved, even though it moved slightly. I rubbed my temples and got up from my desk. As I walked over to the window of my office I noticed the weather. It was, as per usual, another overcast day in Seattle. Cold as hell out there too. I sighed heavily. It was hard to get in the swing of being in a completely different city and weather pattern after years of living on the east coast. It was even worse having to deal with making new connections, friends, and starting a new job. If I had still been in my 20s I would like to think I would have handled it a bit better. I wasn’t however.
Up until 3 years ago I was in a relationship with a man I thought I loved. I met Ben right at the end of my Junior year in college. He was good looking and kind, nerdy but popular. He was just what I needed at the time, I thought. My self esteem wasn’t the best. While my friends were getting dates and get hammered on the weekends, I would read books and stay in my dorm. And that was my Sunday to Sunday routine. Class, reading, self loathing. Sometimes the routine switched out. Some days I would lay in bed and contemplate dying.
It was horrible. My parents were just happy I even got to college. I was an overachiever until I got to my Sophomore year of High School. All of the pressure got to me and I broke down, and with my breakdown, my grades suffered. I gritted my way through it on the promise of college somehow being better. It wasn’t. On my arrival I quickly realized that being depressed wasn’t “cool” enough. Everyone was happy as hell to be away from parents and lived it up.
Ben saw all of it once he finally got the courage to ask me out. He would see the mood swings and random fights I’d start due to it. And he was always, always so patient and kind with me. I remember at the beginning when I was actually still attracted to him. His thick, curly jet black hair set perfectly around his square jawed face; with it had a set of eyes so dark you could barely see the pupil. Despite their lack of colour they were so, so expressive. When he smiled, they smiled back. When he was worried or upset, the reflected that. His extroverted nature around people got me out of my shell and into the pace of college life. He baffled me. With me, he could sit and do geeky things and out in public he could woo a crowd his way. Me, on the other hand, stumbled early in conversations despite my newfound talent. I wish he would have stayed that way forever.
Looking back at the clock again, I saw that it was finally at the 5 o clock mark. The next thing I knew, I was outside the building and into my car. The chilly air still crept into my bones so I jacked up the heat. It then dawned on me that I needed a drink. Maybe two. Or three. I pulled out my phone and searched for the nearest liquor store. If I was going to get hammered, I was going to do it properly, inside my warm, empty, cozy apartment. With my mind made up and the weekend ahead of me, I pulled out into traffic.
A part of me wondered why I struggled so much. It was pretty enough. Shoulder length black hair complemented tanned skin. Yellow Green eyes to match. My body didn’t sag, or sag yet, due to my age. I kept in shape and ate clean, mostly due to my own accord. My mental health was always a wreck though. Whether I ate clean and exercised or sat in bed and cried all day, it remained. Lucky for me though, I found the liquor store.
Walking inside liquor stores was always an out of body experience for me back home. I walk in, find what I want, and the salesperson gives me this magical drink that solves my problems for a while. And its legal. Beautiful. Walking into this one though, I felt a tinge of shame. This magical drink almost destroyed me and here I was again buying it.
“I guess I’ll never learn,” I muttered under my breath as I picked up a bottle of wine.
Walking up to the counter I noticed a customer griping about the price. Great. Now I had to wait while some grandpa yells at a salesperson for an extra fifty cents off his usual order. A voice came up from behind me.
“Fucking move on already, dude. People have places to be, you know?”
The voice was loud against the otherwise quiet store and its lights. It was deep but feminine, and something in me told me to turn around.
It was like something out of a movie as our eyes met. Her skin was on a lighter side of brown and so were her eyes. She stood about a foot taller than me, and her face was oval shaped; her cheeks were non existent but her cheekbones prominent. To top it all off though, were a set of full, lighter brown lips. Her hair was short and spiky, bleached blonde. She had an eye cocked at my staring. “Ma’am,” she said, and she smiled. It was one of the more genuine ones I have seen. I gathered my thoughts quickly and turned around.
“Sorry, I thought I was alone.”
“Ah. I see. Its pretty dead in here most of the time. Thats the reason I go to this one instead of them one a block over. Full of hippies and other obnoxious folk, and I enjoy quietness and quickness.”
I chuckled at that. She had a country undertone to her Seattle accent, which I chalked up to her moving. Carolinian? Georgian?
I turned around and before I could stop myself, I felt my lips move.
“You arent from around here are you?”
She chuckled at me in amusement. Her smile reached up to her eyes and radiated a warmness in my heart.
“Was it the folk or hippies that gave it away?”
Her eyebrow cocked up again, and she made it seductive somehow. I gulped.
“Folk, I believe. Are you from the east?”
She nodded.
“Carolina girl here.”
I smiled brightly.
“I knew it.”
She looked at me again and turned her head.
“Oh yeah? Im guessing you are a little deeper south than me though.”
I nodded.
“Florida.” She winced. “Wow I was way off. I tell you what though, I went to Orlando once with my aunt for a week and the only thing I can remember about the place was the Chinese food she introduced me to when I was there.”
She laughed at her own joke and it curled the air around us. I didn’t realize it, but we had stepped out of line and by the looks of it had been chatting a while. I smiled at her again and then I felt it. It was like someone tied a rope around us. I felt connected to her, deeply, and If I was reading this right, she felt it too. Her expression changed and her eyes got softer. I opened my mouth to speak but was interrupted by the man at the counter.
“We don’t allow people to hold onto our liquor as an accessory. You want it, you buy it.”
I broke the trance I was in and looked over at him.
I mumbled a “sorry” and I rushed over and put my wine onto the counter and fumbled for my card.
I don’t think I ever even heard what the price was. My mind was suddenly very, very cloudy and I longed to go home. When he gave me my receipt, I almost snatched it out of his hand. I grabbed the bottle, my purse, and walked out in the crisp Seattle air. As I started walking to my car, a familiar voice called out behind me.
“Hey! Hey wait up, yeah?” It was her. I felt my body tense up and stop.
“Look I don’t usually do this but I’m going to shoot my shot with you, If you don’t mind too much.”
I turned my back again and looked her in the eye. Was she flirting with me?
As if my mouth followed my brain the same question popped up. “Are you flirting with me?”
