Through the Windshield Glass

by Kristen Day

  It was odd, until Daman said something about it, I hadn’t remembered that day on the playground. It was as though he had planted the memory in my head at just the right moment, but I knew that couldn’t be true.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, burying my face in my hands, “I should’ve remembered you!”

  “Don’t worry yourself about it, my eye healed nicely and you shared your dessert with me the next day at lunch. It was the best brownie I’d ever tasted.” Daman said.

  "I'm glad you enjoyed it," I said with a shy smile. Suddenly exponentially attractive Daman was slightly less obnoxious and he smiled back. His smile made his whole face change. I don't know why, but seeing his lips curve like that, it made me wonder what it would feel like to kiss him. I’d never been kissed before. I’d spent most of my high school experience dreaming about it, but obviously the opportunity never arose.

  I was shocked at my own thoughts. I barely knew this guy, why should I want to kiss him? But the idea kept popping into my head, over and over again, and the more I thought about it, the more I felt like that was something that I had to do; I knew it was what I had to do.

  Apparently I wasn't the only one who was thinking that. I looked past Daman and saw James standing behind him, puckering his lips and pointing from me to Daman. I tried to use my eyes to signal James to leave. If I was going to do this, I didn't want my older brother watching!

  Daman saw me looking over his shoulder and turned to see what I was making faces at. James disappeared before Daman could see him. When Daman turned back to me, I was on my feet, looking down at him.

  "Going somewhere?" Daman asked. I shook my head, my heart hammering in my chest. Another downside to having bodily functions back. I'm sure Daman could see how red I was turning and hear my heart trying to break through my ribs.

  "I have an idea," I managed to say with a somewhat steady voice, "An idea on how to get us out of here and move on to the next door, or at least get us back to our hallways."

  Daman looked at me, "What would that be?"

  "Just stand up," I said, despite the perfect temperature, I suddenly felt cold and clammy all over, except for the sudden perspiration under my arms. I was nervous, more than I had ever been. I'm surprised I didn't start hyperventilating. I rubbed my sweating palms anxiously against my legs.

  Daman stood up; he had a very curious look on his face, "What's your idea, Alice?"

  "Well," I started, gulping for air, why was air suddenly such a necessity? I'd been doing fine without it for a year. I could feel my old anxiety rash starting to spread across my chest and was grateful for the dark of the high neck of my shirt, "I thought that maybe, you know, since we were supposed to get married, and since the door I came through was labeled love, maybe we were supposed to fall in love here. So maybe if we, I don't know, kissed or something--"

  In life I hated surprises, I avoided them like the plague and I was rarely foiled. If ever I was it drove me completely insane, but the surprise Daman offered sent my old pet peeve running for the hills. Most likely because his interruption wasn’t loud, it wasn't offensive, he didn't even use words. In less than a second, he closed the gap between us, air whooshed out of my lungs, time slowed. I no longer remembered where I was.

  "I was thinking the same thing," Daman said quietly. Then his lips were on mine.

  Chapter eight

  True love’s first kiss

  The bringer of life, and in that one moment, I felt more truly alive than I ever had in life. My blood flowed fast and precisely to each vein, my heart beat in perfect rhythm with Daman's. I was aware that my arms had wrapped around his neck and his were around my waist. Then suddenly, the world flashed white, the mildly friendly feelings I had had for Daman until that point changed.　Now they were on fire, the thought of letting go of Daman physically hurt.　I felt like I had known him for my entire life. It was crazy and stupid, I knew if someone told me Daman had jumped over a cliff I’d dive after him. If he killed himself, I would be his Juliet and follow. Even as the feelings progressed through my body I knew they were artificial, but I couldn’t ignore them.

  I wanted more, but the white light faded, and I realized I wasn't in the park anymore. I was back in my hallway. Across from me, where the love door used to be was now blank wall. I could feel Daman's right hand in my left and I turned to smile up at him. He was at least 6’ to my 5’4”, and he was perfect. This time the smile he gave me changed his face even more. He looked radiant and happier than I thought any person could ever look.

  "I love you, Alice Patterson," Daman whispered. My response was lost in another earth shattering kiss.

  Chapter Nine

  Daman pulled me to another door and opened it without any hesitation. Daman and I fell through; I screamed as I landed in some grass and started rolling down a hill. When I stopped I was dizzy, and I couldn't remember why I had ever enjoyed that as a child. I stood up shakily, and looked for Daman, where was he?

  I spun around to look up the hill I had just rolled down. It seemed a lot longer when I was rolling, but from where I was standing I could see it was just an averaged sized, grass covered lump. An averaged sized, grass covered lump completely devoid of the love of my life. Instant separation anxiety wrapped around my chest and laughed in my ear, making my neck curl as if someone had truly breathed into my ear canal.

  “Daman!” I yelled, cupping my hands around my mouth to make the sound go farther.

  “What?” Daman said from behind me.

  I jumped and spun around to face Daman, catching my foot on my other ankle in the process and falling again. Daman reached out and caught me just as I was about to go down. I felt like slapping myself on the head when I almost said, "I think I'm falling for you."

  "Next time," I began, breathing heavily, "Warn me when you're about to open a door."

  Daman chuckled and drew me in close, “So,” he said softly into my ear, “Do you like food?”

  “What?” I shivered at the contact.

  “I know where we are, we’re really close to where I used to live, there’s this awesome café just about a few blocks away,” Daman replied, releasing me and holding my hand instead.

  As if on cue, my stomach growled.

  “It’s settled then,” Daman said, and he began leading the way.

  “But we don’t have any money,” I reminded him.

  Daman stopped and pointed at the front right pocket of his jeans, there was the unmistakable imprint of a wallet there, “On the contrary, my dear, I think we do.”

  I finally breathed a contented sigh as Daman started walking up the hill again. The grass was a gorgeous green, the sky completely devoid of clouds and the sun was shining down warming my skin. I thought that it might soon be too warm, but every time I started to get uncomfortable, a cloud would mysteriously appear in the sky just long enough for me to cool to a pleasant temperature again. Quite simply, it was perfection.

  “What’s this café called?” I asked Daman after a few minutes of walking hand in hand.

  “You know,” Daman said, “I don’t remember. I don’t even think I knew it when I was alive. There’s no sign, I just know it’s the best place to eat in this town.”

  I shrugged, it sounded good to me. I just needed food in my stomach before I passed out.

  My stomach growled again, Daman laughed and looked over at me.

  “Will you make it?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said sarcastically, “I think I’m going to pass out right here, don’t bother to wait for me, I’m a lost cause.”

  “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Daman said playfully, “You’re already dead, remember? Even if you did pass out you’d just keep waking up!”

  “I’ll just have to soldier on then I guess,” I said, feigning reluctance.

  “I suppose you’ll have to, I won’t have a man down, this mission is too important.”

  By then we had stepped onto the sidewalk next to a busy street.

 
; "How much further do we have to go?”

  Daman pointed ahead of him to a little outdoor restaurant, “That’s it,” he said.

  It looked fantastic, as we got closer I could see that my eyes hadn’t been lying, and my nose was extremely excited about it. I could smell so many wonderful things! On top of that, the people looked happy. The customers were mostly couples sitting at cozy tables; smiling waiters weaved around the tables carrying trays piled high with food of every kind. It looked too good to be true, but I didn’t question it.

  “Table for two, please,” Daman said to the woman at the front desk. She smiled at us, her lips were too red and her eyes were lined with kohl, but she looked friendly enough.

  　“You guys are so cute!” the woman gushed. I blushed in spite of myself, “My name is Carmen, follow me to your table.”

  Carmen led us through some tables and finally stopped at one that was situated perfectly. It was near the street and from where we were sitting we would be able to see all the people passing by, not to mention a good view of a street performer doing magic tricks on the corner.

  “Lydia will be your server, she should be around soon,” Carmen said with a giant red smile.

  “Thank you,” Daman said. He pulled the chair out for me as Carmen tottered away on her stilettos.

  “I told you it was a great place,” Daman said, taking his own seat and reaching across the table for my hand.

  “Yeah, it’s amazing! Did you come here with your girlfriend?” I asked. I regretted the question as soon as I spoke it.

  “No,” Daman said, “I never had a girlfriend; I would take my mom out to eat here sometimes to get her away from her boyfriend.”

  “That’s sweet,” I said, it really was, “You were so good to your mother. She was lucky to have you.”

  “Wish I could believe that,” Daman said, somewhat distractedly.

  “I’m serious,” I protested. There was the obnoxious Daman again, “Any guy who treats his mother with that much respect--”

  I was interrupted by our waitress arriving. She was slightly less affected than Carmen had been, but it was still obvious that the actual skin on her face rarely saw the light of day under her makeup.

  “I’m Lydia, are you guys ready for some drinks?” Lydia asked, handing out menus.

  “I’ll have the raspberry lemonade,” Daman said. That sounded delicious.

  “Same for me please,” I said to Lydia.

  “Okay, two raspberry lemonades coming right up. I’ll have those out to you in a minute,” Lydia smiled brightly and followed Carmen’s path back through the tables.

  Daman smiled and reached for my hand. We sat there in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's company and watching quite a few proposals take place.

  The arrival of Lydia with our drinks stopped our observations, “You guys really are cute!” she said, setting down the glasses of lemonade, “Are you ready to order?”

  I realized I hadn’t even looked at the menu. I snatched it up and began quickly scanning the contents.

  “I’ll have the spaghetti,” Daman said. I was still searching the menu when Lydia finished writing.

  “Can I have the same thing, and a side of fries?” I asked.

  “Normally, we don’t serve the fries with the spaghetti, but I think we can swing it for you,” Lydia said with a wink, “I’ll be right back with those.”

  As soon as Lydia was out of earshot, I turned back to Daman, who was conveniently sucking on his straw.

  “Are you going to tell me why you think you ruined your mother's life?"

  “I don’t know, okay,” Daman said under his breath, “I just do-- did. There was no one else to blame for it, and my mom didn’t deserve any of what she got. It only made sense to blame myself; I was always costing her more and more money to take care of,”

  “That happens to everyone as they grow up,” I said.

  “I answered your question, my turn,” Daman said, completely avoiding delving deeper into the issue of his self-depredation, “Why were you so jealous of your best friend?"

  In that moment, I hated Daman Carter more than any other person I had ever felt angst towards. I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes the way I had seen my mother and Lacey do a million times when they were annoyed.

  “I really don’t want to tell you,” I said, “But I will if you push me,”

  I was using the same tactic my mom used to when she was trying to get me to do something I didn’t want to do. She would always leave it up to me, but she would make me feel like she would be extremely disappointed in me if I didn’t do what she had asked. Apparently, boys don’t react to the guilt trip the same way, or at least Daman didn’t.

  “Please tell me,” he said.

  I looked up at him, trying to plead with my eyes, but to no avail. I was going to have to tell him what had happened.

  “It's really dumb,” I was still trying to get away with saying as little as possible.

  “Why?” Daman asked. I wanted to punch him, why couldn’t he leave me alone? Couldn’t he see that this was something I didn’t want to dig up?

  I guess not, because he looked at me with unwavering interest and I knew I wouldn’t be able to divert him no matter how hard I tried.

  “Because,” I said, taking a shaky breath, and trying to keep the tears from coming, “She was always the pretty one. She ended up dating all the boys I liked because they asked her out first and I always told her it was okay. She was rich, she got good grades and everyone loved her. I felt like a tag along just standing in her shadow all the time."

  The words came out in a rush. Now, sitting here in the sun with Daman I realized how silly my jealousy had been, but it was still painful.

  I will forever be grateful to Lydia for showing up right then before Daman could ask any more questions.

  "Spaghetti for the both of you and extra fries for the lady," Lydia said as she set our plates of food down.

  My mouth started watering so badly I was afraid I was going to start drooling. I took a sip of lemonade to satiate my taste buds for a moment, the intense sour taste made my jaw ache. I set my glass down and asked Daman to pass the ketchup. Daman just sat and watched patiently as I poured the condiment all over my fries, before digging into the spaghetti.

  My mom was an excellent cook, I was never hungry and my friends were always jealous of the lunches that I would bring to school on days when I had no money. But nothing, and I mean nothing could compare to how fantastically delicious that spaghetti tasted. There was sausage in the sauce which I’m sure had addictive ingredient because the more I ate the more I wanted.

  I had plowed through half the spaghetti when I remembered my fries. I dove into those with such vigor that I forgot to be embarrassed at eating like a pig, in front of a boy, who I loved, who was looking at me with a disgusted look on his face.

  I finally began to slow down when most of the fries were gone. I couldn’t decide whether to save them for last or not so I took intermittent bites of spaghetti and fry until I had finished. I took a long swig of lemonade and sat back with a very contented sigh. I hadn’t felt so good since before I died.

  “Was it good?” Daman asked, “Or did you even taste it before you swallowed?”

  “Ha-ha very funny,” I said over the rim of my lemonade glass. I was slightly embarrassed, but too much in a food coma to care.

  Daman chuckled and threw his napkin onto his empty plate, “I think I know how to get through this door, but we’re going to have to use, experimentation, if we’re doing something wrong I’m sure we’ll get stopped, or it’ll turn sour quickly, if not, and I’m right, get ready,” Daman got up dropping the money for our lunch on the table, along with a generous tip. He started weaving his way between the tables and was nearly at the exit by the time I caught up to him.

  “Get ready for what?” I asked breathlessly.

  “That’s a surprise,” Daman said mystically.

  “I hate surprises,”
I muttered.

  Chapter Ten

  The silence stretched between Daman and I. It wasn’t like the crushing silence I had felt when I was alone in my hallway, this silence was comfortable, it was warm and friendly, and even without words we seemed to be communicating.

  I could feel the pulse in Daman’s wrist against my own. It felt like we were in perfect rhythm, our steps were in sync and it felt like we were one person. One pulse, one set of legs, and with only one thing on our minds: each other.

  Everyone that passed the two of us as we were walking stared. I felt like we were glowing. My skin felt warm and tingly and I knew that there was no place else in the world that I would want to be.

  I couldn’t ever remember being this content with how things were going. There was no school to worry about the next day, no curfew to keep. Just this boy and I, hand in hand, enjoying a solitary walk in Nevada. It was the most perfect thing I had ever experienced. I began wondering if the door Daman had opened was labeled 'Perfection', that didn't feel right though. I’d just have to wait and see which door was gone when everything ended.

  “Do I get to know where we’re going yet?” I finally asked when my curiosity got the better of me.

  “The park,” Daman said.

  “Why?” I asked, looking up at him.

  “You said you were going to trust me,” Daman responded.

  “But we’re nowhere near the park,” I protested, I knew that for a fact. I didn’t know this part of town at all.

  “That’s what you think, but what I think is that if we decide where we’re going, it will be there."

  I was silent again after that; it was obvious I wasn’t going to get anything else out of him. He seemed to know much more about this whole dead thing than I did even though he used the lost boy look every time I actually wanted to know something.