I'm Here

3

Waking up is the hardest part of my day.

Feeling my muscles awaken gives me a burning sensation. The light assaults my eyes. I pull the blanket over and cover my head. Darkness is my friend. I stretch out my hand and grab my phone, which is next to my pillow. I unlock it and see the time. Ten-twelve in the morning, it’s Saturday. All I want is to stay in bed until the world ends.

I spend twenty minutes trying to doze off again, but I can’t. I am completely awake. I throw the blanket off me. I stretch my arms up, yawning. I don’t like the morning taste in my mouth. My tongue wanders over my teeth and the inside of my cheek. I sit on the edge of the bed, feeling the cold wooden floor under my feet. I pull out my phone once more. I check the notes app to see what I have for today. In bold letters, it says "MEETING WITH JAIME AT 7:00 PM."

I had completely forgotten about that. Jaime was a nice guy. A coworker who managed to ask me, Mavie Sykes, out on a date without getting a spectacular rejection. I didn’t dislike dates, but I also didn’t love them. Usually, I ended up squashing any hope of someone wanting to have something with me. My life was complicated enough without a boyfriend. But things were looking up, and Jaime seemed like a good catch. On our second date, we kissed. He knew how to use words with people. A week ago, he asked me to go steady, and I ended up saying yes. Things were falling into place!

But now I was overwhelmed, and my life was falling apart little by little.

I considered sending a message saying I couldn’t go, that I was feeling unwell. But he would probably want to come over to my place, stay and take care of me. Jaime is a nice guy. I really don’t want him to see how messy my life is.

So I decide to text him asking if the date is still on. Jaime doesn’t take long to reply and confirms that he still wants to meet.

At least Jaime isn’t another complication.

I toss my phone into a corner and sigh, burying my face in my hands.

What am I going to do until seven in the evening?

I think about going to the skate park, already recalling the amount of money I have to pay for the train fare.

Train.

That word reminds me of him. Of Dante.

I look at my hands, remembering the feel of his skin against mine. It made my skin tingle, made me shiver, as if electricity passed from Dante to me.

Those gray eyes, so intense.

The first time I saw him, I just looked at him because I thought he was cute. Messy black hair, gray eyes, his trademark. He wore a simple dark blue t-shirt and black jeans. Dante wasn’t a movie star, but he had his charm. He almost looked like he was sleeping standing up; Dante seemed so innocent. He had a dreamy look, lost in his own thoughts. He completely stood out from all the passengers in that car. But no one seemed to notice him. His movements were wide; they attracted attention. But no one even seemed to want to look. Dante appeared invisible to others. But he existed for me.

Then Dante caught me staring at him.

His expression changed; he was fascinated and scared. It seemed he thought I was something mythical, and he was the only one who could see me.

When he approached me and managed to maintain eye contact, I felt the world around us silence. I tried to dig out truths from those gray eyes, and it was like staring into the entirety of Dante. Something so complex in the body of a boy.

And something connects us. Like lines intertwining, joining together and taking shape. Twisting and tangling. Sometimes they return, pulling apart, and then connect again.

On our second date, Dante was more determined. He had also noticed the connection. I don’t know why, but when he said it was the second time we had met, I felt happy. When I saw him that afternoon, I thought he had forgotten about me.

Damn, why didn’t I remember to ask for his number?

Dante’s shy smile comes to mind, and I feel my face heat up.

I grab the pillow and scream into it with my face pressed against it.

Is Dante a complication in my life?

[...]

I stay at the skate park until it starts to get dark.

I know I have time to get ready for the date, so I’m not in a hurry to catch the train. I wonder if Jaime will be late by a few minutes, and I decide to be a little late as well. I really don’t need to worry about being punctual. Jaime will pick me up at home with his car. He might even open the door for me.

Jaime is a nice guy.

I grow tired of the concrete landscape outside the train, and I decide to look around the car where I am.

My eyes wander lazily and disinterestedly from side to side. When I’m bored this way, I randomly choose someone and try to guess their life based on observations. But I don’t feel like doing that. Then I realize that I’m looking for Dante. I see the automatic doors of the car, and I don’t find him. Why am I looking for Dante among these people?

I get off at my station and head straight home. I focus my thoughts on the date, on Jaime. We’re going to the movies, we’re going to laugh, we’re going to eat.

We might even kiss. Jaime kisses well.

He might even want to take me to a restaurant, which I wouldn’t mind.

But I don’t want to stay home. Anything but my home.

Jaime arrives at my house twelve minutes late.

— I’m sorry for being late. I lost track of time.

— Don’t worry — I say. — I figured there’d be delays.

He smiles. Perfectly brushed white teeth. I dare say Jaime flossed between practically every tooth. He’s making an effort; I like that about him.

Jaime opens the car door for me to get in.

We arrive at the cinema a little late for the show, but they let us in. Romantic movie. I’m not a huge fan, but I don’t say that to Jaime. He’s doing everything to make me feel comfortable, but I feel uncomfortable. Unconditional devotion, I really don’t like that at all. I want Jaime to relax, not to worry about whether I've had all my required vaccinations before traveling to Zimbabwe.

I want a boyfriend right now, not an older brother.

In the middle of the movie, Jaime places his hand over mine. I want to enjoy this moment and let myself go. I turn my palm up and squeeze his hand back. Out of the corner of my eye, I see that Jaime is smiling. It’s lovely. I lean towards him and rest my head on his shoulder. Jaime’s dark brown hair tickles my ear.

For a moment, I manage to forget the world. I try to feel a connection.

Connection.

I hate comparisons, but I do it anyway.

I hate comparisons, but I do it anyway.

My fingers glide over Jaime’s, but there’s nothing there. It’s like feeling rough metal.

Touching his skin feels like electricity flowing through every fiber of my body.

I feel Jaime’s perfectly styled hair brushing against my skin, and it bothers me.

His hair is so messy, so wild. My fingers could get lost there, and I wouldn’t care.

Jaime looks into my eyes, asking if I want more popcorn or soda. Looking into those brown eyes, which are gentle and welcoming.

Those gray eyes, so intense, capable of making someone lose their breath.

I’m hating myself for doing this to Jaime. He’s the calmness that I so desperately need right now. The normalcy amid the chaos. Jaime is completely present in the moment between us. I am miles away, traveling in a train car.

Waiting for something.

Waiting for a look that will connect me back to the world.

The movie ends, and Jaime and I leave. On the way back, we only talk about the movie. He asks most of the questions; there are few times when I don’t respond with a grunt. Jaime realizes I’m not really there with him, and he falls silent. He turns on the radio, and I don’t try to say anything more.

I know I’m hurting him.

I don’t want this.

When we arrive at my house, Jaime turns to me.

— Mavie... didn’t you like the date?

I can feel the fear in his voice. He thinks he ruined everything.

Jaime ruined nothing; I did.

— I loved the date, Jaime. I just have a lot on my mind right now — I’m lying to him. I barely paid attention to the date. In a moment that was supposed to be just ours, I included complications.

Jaime shifts in his seat, adjusting his seatbelt.

— I understand — I’m scared I’ve hurt him, of losing him. — Can I help with any of those things on your mind?

I shake my head negatively. I give my best carefree smile.

— It’s nothing serious, don’t worry.

I know I could tell Jaime what’s happening at home. He could help me, support me. But I don’t want to tell him. I want to keep him away from that part of my life.

— Is it a problem with a friend? — Jaime’s eyes narrow, but not in a threatening way. More comical.

— More or less. It’s nothing — Dante is not nothing. Not at all.

Why am I thinking these things about Dante?

I barely know him!

I see that Jaime is putting the key in the ignition. He wants to leave.

I don’t want to go inside, not now. I need Jaime to stay with me, to take me somewhere else, to continue our date. I want to fix things with him.

I lean in and kiss Jaime’s lips. I communicate through the touch what I want. Take me away from here.

When we part, Jaime has a slight smile. His hand squeezes mine, and I stare at the touch.

There’s no electricity.

Jaime sits up straight in his seat. He unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the door. I hear him walking outside, and he stops in front of my door.

I hear the lock click open, and next to the open door, Jaime has a broad smile. The night is over. I unbuckle my seatbelt and get out of the car. He closes the door behind me. I don’t want to face my house. I focus on the garden and its decorations. I feel Jaime’s hands around my waist, and he pulls me against his body.

I want to surrender to this one moment. Save this night for me, for both of us. I put everything I have into this kiss, but something is wrong.

I’m looking for something.

I’m looking for electricity.

But there’s nothing to connect to. I’m kissing the body, not the one who controls it. I hold the kiss for a few more moments, increasing the intensity. I’m looking for something to ignite my body, a spark in Jaime that sets me ablaze.

But the search is a failure.

We separate, and our gazes meet. Jaime found his spark in me, but I’m empty. I search in his eyes for it, the connection. I try with all my might, but I can’t find it.

Maybe on another day when I have less on my mind.

We say goodbye, and I go inside. I head to my room in silence, not wanting to wake anyone. I’m too exhausted to think about changing clothes. I throw myself onto my bed, not caring about the creaking it makes. I’m traveling again. In that train car.

My eyelids begin to close, but my mind has time for one last thought. It’s not what Jaime is expecting.

Will I see Dante again?