by Kali Emerson
Walking up I shoved the small protection bag into her open purse when she wasn’t paying attention. We made our way through the small crowd, to the back of the house where Sam and Halle said they’d be sitting.
The main room past the stairs, was painted light blue, and the walls were adorned with various staged family photos. We walked through the kitchen, which was filled with about ten people doing shots of Patron. I didn’t recognize any of them, so they probably didn’t go to our school. The friend must have been someone of Sam’s, since he went to Northeastern. Through the kitchen was another room, which was meant to be a formal dining room but had various outdated living room furniture in it. It wasn’t well decorated, and was set up more for function than anything else. I scanned the room, which had about fifteen people, searching for a familiar face.
Then, I saw him.
He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed against his chest, and laughing at the small group of people he was standing with. When his lips spread exposing his teeth and with each laugh, I felt my heart drop to my toes. The world stopped in that moment, and everyone else disappeared around us. I was hyper focused to where he was standing and I couldn’t look away. I hadn’t stopped thinking about him since I saw him in the cafe a few weeks ago. His face would invade my head at the worst times. I had even caught myself thinking about what he would look like without his clothes on.
He didn’t see me watching him right away. The way he moved made him undoubtedly the godliest person I’d ever seen. He’d shifted his weight toward the wall leaning against it, and laughed again. I could tell by how invested he was in the conversation. He wasn’t only attractive and masculine, but he was thoughtful and attentive as well.
I started to walk toward him, away from Fiona mindlessly and impulsively. It was like I was being pulled by an invisible gravity toward him. I had already missed out on meeting him once, and I wouldn’t do it again.
“What are you doing?” She asked, pushing past someone to keep up. Another person handed me a joint, I took it and inhaled. I held it in, then exhaled with the hard earned expertise.
“It's the guy I told you about a few weeks ago, from Mugs” I stopped about twenty feet away from him letting Fiona catch up.
“Seriously? You're still on that?”
Ignoring her I kept moving forward. We moved past our small friend group that were sitting near the window on the bay seat.
I took another drag and handed it off to the nearest person. He must have noticed me staring that time, because he looked over at me. The connection left me completely shattered, with all of my pieces scattered on the floor exposed for everyone to see. I felt a knot form in my throat from anxiety, as my breath became rapid. I'd thought about this interaction over and over in my head, but now he was right there, in front of me. I couldn’t think of what to say, or what to even do.
I looked down quickly pretending like I had been talking to Fiona. I could see him excuse himself from the corner of my eye, and start walking toward us. His towering silhouette inching closer until I could feel his aura touching mine. The sensation made my hair stand up on end. I'd never felt such a forceful personal energy.
“Excuse me.” His voice boomed as he touched my shoulder, sending electricity down my back.
I turned to see a toothy smile well above my eye level. Close up I could see his features better. He had a broad face, large brown eyes, and full lips. His cheek bones were high and sat in a perfect place below his eyes. His skin was smooth and thick, with stubbles covering up some acne scars on his chin.
The tattoo on his neck was the outline of a small cat skull adorned with Asian Magnolias. Another on his left forearm, an intricate, knotted snake eating its tail. I’d seen the symbol before, but not in such detail. It had three corners, which resembled a trinity knot.
“I think I saw you at Mugs a few weeks ago”
“Did you?” The words came out as a loud whisper. I decided to play dumb so he didn’t know that I was practically assaulting him with my predatory staring.
There was an exchange of invisible energy as we looked into each other's eyes for an uncomfortably long time. The only thing I could hear was our breath. Mine was rapid and uneven, while he stayed monotone and relaxed.
“Well…since you're good here, I'm going over by Halle and Sam.” Fiona pointed her fingers awkwardly in their direction leaving me alone with him. I ignored her as she walked away.
I knew he was a witch as soon as I saw his aura. It was a misty dark indigo, which made him even more intriguing. It wasn’t an aura I saw often and was usually reserved for witches with a lot of power. Not only did I feel an incredibly unnatural, strong bond with him immediately. But I felt like I knew him in a way already. His presence was comforting.
“I’m Alex.” He rubbed his hand up his arm, showing the first sign that he wasn’t as tough as he looked.
“I’m Mara.” I wasn’t good with small talk.
“Do you want to go outside? It’s kind of loud in here.”
For the first time since I saw him I recognized the volume of the music, realizing that we had been screaming.
We went out the back door passing Fiona, Halle, and Sam, who winked at me as we walked by. He must have thought Alex was attractive, but Fiona just rolled her eyes. She knew I had a hard time with boyfriends and relationships, so she thought I was wasting my time.
Alex opened the door and let me walk out in front of him, the cold air hit my face and my nose started to run. It was colder than it was before and he didn't even have a jacket on, he just stood there with his t-shirt.
“Aren't you cold?” It seemed an obvious question to ask. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket ,threw it in his mouth and lit the end.
“No, are you?” I shook my head no. I pulled a smoke out of my own purse, and lit it. I watched his lips form an ‘O’ around the filter, wrinkling immaculately then releasing the smoke into the air, ballooning out larger than normal due to the frigid air. He used his pointed finger and middle finger to remove it, inhaling again.
“Where did you come from?” He peered into my eyes, and it struck me down.
The smoke came out of his mouth and nose as he spoke. It was like a dragon releasing heat from its body. His eyes unmoving from mine sent me into panic. I was fantasizing loving him, physically and emotionally. Although we had never touched, I could tell the way his skin would feel on mine. I could taste the way he tasted on my tongue, although our lips had never met. All of the molecules in my body craved him next to me, kissing me, inside of me. It jarred me through my skin, into my bones. All of my nerves were awake, making me forget where I was.
“I know you feel it too.” He inched closer. He knew that there was something between us, like we’d known each other before somehow. It didn’t feel like I had just met him. With other new people there was always a safe guarding, trying to reserve the innermost part of yourself for later so they didn’t get freaked out. But he was different. I wanted to bare my soul to him, and it was a good thing I wasn’t drunk yet otherwise I would have.
I flicked my cigarette ash onto the concrete and let smoke creep in from my lips. I knew he could see my red cheeks, we were only standing a few inches apart. He was so close I could feel his breath on my face. When I realized how close we got, I backed up slightly moving my eyes to the floor.
“I feel it.”
“What is it?” He asked me, without sexual tension behind it. He only wanted to know why he felt so bewitched.
“I don’t know.” I was honest, because I didn’t know what it was, but I wanted him to understand that what we felt was the same and it was unexplainable.
His eyes were still unmoved from me, and suddenly I felt completely helpless. My soul decided to give up on logic, and give in to the intoxicating energy between us. I closed my eyes, savoring the words he spoke to me. I felt a shiver go down my spine, wanting to be touched by him. I wanted to just thrust myself up and kiss him right there, but we’d bare
ly said a few words to each other.
I had let men cum in me with fewer words spoken, so it wouldn’t be out of my character. But he was different and I didn’t want to ruin it. I’d never wanted a relationship with anyone, I realized it was because I was waiting for him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, breaking the tension.
“Oh shit. I've got to go. I have a deadline tomorrow.” He looked disappointed like, he didn't want to leave me yet. I didn’t want him to leave either and I wouldn’t let him go without giving me a way to contact him.
“Well then I guess we have to say good-night now.” I suggested, hoping to feel his lips on mine before the night ended. He reached out for my phone so he could put his number in it. I examined the blue that reflected off his skin from my phone.
“Here, Mara. Call me soon.” He handed me back my phone. He walked away, turning around to look at me again before opening the door to the house.
4
The phone in my hand felt heavier than usual, mulling over all of the things I could possibly say to him. I imagined every scenario completely before I decided to call him. I felt like texting would be too impersonal for the supernatural connection we had two days before. I never had an issue talking to men before. It always came really easy for me, I would just tell them what I knew they wanted to hear, to get what I wanted out of them. But I wanted to know Alex, not just undress him.
Fiona said I should wait and only text him instead of calling, but I didn’t listen to her. She didn’t understand that I had been constantly thinking about a slew of images and words that can't possibly fit together, but would. He answered the call after only a ring and a half. He had been waiting with his phone in his hand for me to call him.
I wondered, if he had my number too, would he have called me sooner. Or at least sent me a text. We exchanged so few words up until that point, my voice was nervous and shaky which I was sure he picked up on. Alex’s voice was the opposite of mine. He was calm, cool, and collected the whole time we planned our meetup. He wanted to take me out to dinner, and I tried to talk him into coming over for some drinks and a movie. He was able to talk me out of it by promising we would have a second date, before we’d even left for the first one.
We agreed to meet that night for dinner, which was his idea and it made me feel better about wanting to see him right away. It meant that the feelings were mutual. Under normal circumstances, I would have completely rejected the idea of a formal date, but I found myself doing a lot of things that were out of the ordinary for me. I had belonged so fully to myself, damaged, fragmented and floating in space alone, that I hadn’t had time to think about whether or not it was in my best interest to fall in love. I had avoided it already for so long, that when it stood right there, in my face calling out my name like an angel, I didn’t even try to ignore it. It had come so forcefully, hitting me in the face like an icy blizzard in the dead of night.
I ran around the house, trying to get ready. I didn’t want to do myself up too much, so he thought I looked like that all the time because I didn't. Most of my wardrobe was monotone and black. So it was unquestionable what I had chosen to wear. My mother told me frequently when I was a teenager that it was a phase I would grow out of. I can say without uncertainty every day, she was wrong.
He was supposed to pick me up, and we were going to eat at a place he said he hadn’t had a chance to try since moving to Boston. I was surprised when he buzzed my doorbell. I’d imagined him texting me that he was downstairs, and him meeting me halfway down the steps. Instead, he had intended on picking me up at my own front door.
We walked down slowly, our hands grazed each other every few moments. The SUV sat running, and uninteresting on the street. The lights beamed down just beside it so the light didn’t quite reach it. I thought it was black until I started to grab the door handle, realizing it was dark green. He reached over opening the passenger side door for me, before I could even grasp the handle.
I climbed into the SUV that was substantially taller than me, struggling a bit at first but then I got my footing. I slipped like I hadn’t always been getting in and out of my own large vehicle for the last five years. He watched me climb in, admiring the back of me as I had to bend over to get myself in the seat. He closed the door behind me, walked around to the drivers side and hopped in without a problem. The keys turned in the ignition and it started up with a rumble.
I admired his structured features in the light of the moon, drifting into a flesh fantasy. I watched him as he lifted his keys into the ignition, jingling in the cold air. There were a lot of them and I wondered what they all went to. He wasn’t in college anymore, so he had to have his own place and maybe an art studio of some kind.
His hands looked rough on the steering wheel, I could tell he was an artist. An artist's hands had a common look, unkept and overworked. It was something that I admired about people. As an artist myself I understood the brooding nature that came with having such a fucked up, chaotic brain. The only way to let out just enough pain, to continue living in a society that hated people like us, was to create something exquisite. He shifted the vehicle into drive, pulling out of the parking spot fast and swift. The street lights flashing through the dark car in silence. The tires scraped the pavement as we moved forward, toward the center of Boston.
We drove with the music blaring with both our windows down, his hand never leaving mine the entire car ride. I liked the way he felt over me. When we arrived at the restaurant it was packed. Even though he said we didn’t need a reservation I called and made one anyway.
“Hi. We have two?” He leaned over closer to the host.
“I’m sorry, sir it’s going to be about an hour wait.”
He turned to me defeated, and apologetic. I had told him it was one of the busiest restaurants in the city, but he insisted it would be fine. He didn’t know yet, but I was always prepared to be proven right.
“Actually we have a reservation, under Walsh.” I turned to smile at him, expecting him to be upset. He was surprised, but when his face relaxed I could see that he admired my ‘I do what I want attitude’.
They sat us right away in a nice part of the restaurant, against a window. He pulled my seat out for me and I sat down, picking up the menu.
“Did you grow up in Boston?”
“In Boston, no. But I was born in Massachusetts.” I decided to order the lobster bisque, sipping down a spoonful of it in my mouth.
“I know you’re not from the East Coast.”
He smiled, digging into his pasta.
“It’s that easy to tell, huh?”
“Yes.”
“I’m from Chicago.”
“So, the midwest?”
“A lot of people from Illinois say they're from Chicago, when they're not. But I actually grew up in the city.”
“Is it like Boston?” I had gone a lot of places with Fiona, but Chicago wasn’t one of them. I knew people who had gone there and said it was like a small version of New York City.
“It’s nothing like Boston. They are two very different cities.”
“Which one do you like better?”
He grinned at my question.
“It’s impossible to answer. Honestly, I do love Boston, but Chicago is my home and I’ll always love it there.”
“That seems like a fair answer. Did you leave a lot of family behind?”
His face dropped slightly.
“It's a complicated answer, so for now no.” He twirled his fork around in his food, and took another bite.
We moved quickly past the subject, and onto finishing our meals. We talked about everything that we could think of. It was so easy to connect with him, once we got past the introduction it was like talking to an old friend. Someone who had been around my whole life. I didn’t think twice about hiding anything I didn’t like about myself from him. I wasn’t able to fully comprehend what was happening while it was happening, but I didn’t mind. He was invested in everything that I had to say, an
d the feeling was mutual. I could honestly vocalize that I had been interested in every word that came from his lips.
When we got back to the car it had gotten a lot colder. Alex turned on the heat quickly. I was exasperated from how easy it was to be around him. I felt like my entire existence was shaken, the rug was ripped out from under me leaving me stranded on a strange island where I could take my outer persona off, and live as the Mara underneath.
“Can I take you somewhere?”
“Anywhere.” I leaned back melting into my seat as I watched him shift the car, jolting us toward our unknown destination. I didn’t want to go home yet, at least not without him. If I had it my way I would never leave his side. I watched him the whole drive, even while he started singing to the words of a song I didn’t know, that blasted through the radio.
He was engaging and so striking it was hard not to start to fall in love already. I felt my blood rush and my heart beat faster the more I gave into the daydreams of him kissing me, until our lips fell off. He left his hand on top of mine the entire ride again, giving me more ideas on how they would feel in other places.
He looked over at me a few times, and by the provocative incandescence in his gaze I knew he was thinking that way too. His hand tightened around my fingers as we got closer to our stop. We pulled up to a small beach that wasn’t too far away from my condo. I recognized the sign, but didn’t think I had ever been there before. We just crossed over into November, and I couldn’t imagine why he would take me to a beach.
I leaned down to open the door, but he had jumped out of the car to my side, opening the door before I could get to it.
“I could just open the door myself.”
He grabbed my hand and I jumped down.
I walked around to the back of the vehicle and asked him to open the trunk for me. If we were going to be walking on the beach, I didn’t want to ruin my boots.
“Are you going barefoot?” He looked surprised while I was taking off my boots and throwing them into the back seat, along with my socks.
