by Cinda Swans
"Yeah," said Bri. "I guess."
A tall woman with long brown hair and cropped bangs stepped forward and hugged Josie tightly, and the two of them began chatting. Bri felt her mind wander, trying to seem like she was paying attention to the conversation, but she was just nodding absent-mindedly. She wanted to dismiss what had just happened. It was just creepy and silly. But then, when she took this moment to herself to feel it all over again, she could see back into the strange man's eyes, where there was something . . . something mysteriously familiar, like a dream she'd had as a child and never thought to remember as an adult. Both he and Josie were just telling her to listen for something. Listen for what? If you listened to weird things all the time, of course you'd start to hear more of them.
Josie and the tall woman - whose name was Ila - went into the bar, and Bri followed. Ila, Bri remembered, was probably one of Josie’s closest friends – she had heard Josie talk about her a lot.
A wafish, blonde waitress in a shapely black dress led them to a nice table by the windows at the corner of the bar, and the three of them sat down with menus in front of them.
"Ila grew up in Poland, Bri.” Josie reminded her. “She's kinda new to Boston, too. Right?" said Josie.
Ila blinked and smiled. "I only lived in Poland until I was eight."
"Woah," said Bri, happy to have a reason to get pulled from her thoughts. "What was that like?"
"I played out in the woods a lot with my sisters. It was pretty magical."
"Then you moved here?" asked Bri.
"My dad is a physics professor and got a job in Charlotte, so we moved there as a family."
"What was that like?" asked Bri.
"Different," said Ila, "But similar. I guess," she said, "when you start looking for magic at such a young age, you can't help but continue to find it." She smiled broadly, and looked down at her menu, holding it in her hands.
"The food is kind of weird here," said Josie.
"What?" said Bri. "But you wanted to come!"
"I know," said Josie. "I like the place. Just, the food is weird."
Ila looked up from her menu after flipping through it. "If by weird you mean totally normal, overpriced, generic American food, then yeah, it's weird."
Bri laughed. She decided that she liked Ila, who was graceful and sincere looking, but seemed to have a kind of biting, humorous honesty. She'd be a good person to be friends with, thought Bri.
She let her eyes wander around the bar for the first time. It was still early, but starting to get crowded already. There was a crew of normal looking dudes over at the opposite corner of the bar, watching a sports game. Bri did not care for sports, despite having grown up near Boston, where sports is a big deal. The occasional whoops and hollers from the group of men already seemed pretty silly and annoying. There were also a few scattered couples on dates, which looked sort of sickeningly cute, sharing their damn French fries and all. There were a few other tight knots of young people scattered at the tall bar tables around the room, some of them watching the game while eating greasy buffalo wings, some just chatting amongst themselves. There were people here and there filling most of the bar stools.
Then Bri's eyes landed on the side of a boy's face. She could only see the curve of his cheek, and the swooping muss of black hair on top of his head. He was wearing pants that looked like brown Carharts, and a green sweatshirt with some hand stitching on it, patches from bands she'd never heard of. He looked like a punk, she thought, but not really the Boston type - more like he should have been living out in the woods somewhere. What was he doing in this bar? It hardly seemed like the right scene for him.
Just then, he turned his head a little in her direction, tilting it to the side as he did so, like some kind of bird. He didn't quite look at her - he hadn't seemed to notice her looking at him - but she could see more of his face. He had very pale skin, like glass or ivory, and he had bright greenish-blue eyes. Where had she seen eyes like that before? Even from all the way across the bar, she could see them glinting.
Then the boy started to turn his head towards her, and she quickly looked away.
"Bri!" Josie was saying.
Bri looked up and realized that the waitress was trying to ask her what she wanted to eat. She hadn't even looked at the menu. She scanned the first page for the cheapest thing that sounded appealing. "Oh!" she said. "I'll have the . . . curly fries? We can share them," she added, looking at Josie and Ila.
"Sure," said Ila.
The waitress noted their orders down on her little pad, and strode away from their table.
"Bri, where are you from?" asked Ila.
"Boxfield," she said. "It's West of here. It doesn't sound like a nice name, but it was a beautiful place to grow up. Kind of like what you said about the woods - it was . . . yeah, magical."
Ila looked at her very seriously and asked, "Real?"
"What?" said Bri, confused.
"I mean," said Ila, "was it real magic. I mean were you really practicing it."
Bri looked over at Josie, for some kind of sign. Josie's face was inquisitive, too.
"I mean," she said, "the magical stuff felt real when I was, like, eight years old. But, I mean, no, we weren't, like, casting real spells or anything," she laughed uncomfortably, expecting Ila and Josie to laugh too, but they were just smiling softly. "I mean what do you know when you're a kid?" she asked.
The waitress came back then with a pitcher of beer and three glasses. Josie tipped the pitcher into each one and then held hers up. "A toast," she said.
"To what?" asked Ila.
"To magic!" said Josie, laughing.
All three women tipped their beers back and took long sips, and Josie's loud laugh seemed to flow outward and fill the whole bar. A few people turned to look at her. Without stopping their conversations, they caught the glow of her mirth and became a little more animated, and the whole bar began to seem more lively.
The black-haired boy was still alone at the bar. What was he drinking? Was he waiting for someone? His posture hadn't changed. He didn't seem sad, or lonely, but he also hardly seemed to be a part of the room.
Ila seemed to notice where Bri was looking, and she saw the boy too. "Oh," she said. "There's Aeyr!"
Bri was startled. There was no reason why Ila shouldn't know the black-haired boy, but it surprised her completely. For a second, it seemed to break the air of mystery surrounding the boy, but as Ila shouted his name across the bar and he turned to see them, all the mystery returned ten-fold.
The boy - well, Bri could see now that he was her own age or maybe even a few years older - walked towards them, and she felt this intense type of seriousness in the air all around him. He looked so solemn, like he carried some heavy secret to the whole world. He was tall and slim, but not skinny, and he moved across the bar smoothly, walking in long strides with the litheness of an athlete. She could see tattoos at the cuffs of his hoodie, where they probably began creeping all the way up his arms. Bri felt her skin begin to warm and flush as he drew nearer. She felt almost dizzy at the thought that soon he'd be standing by their table! He was too beautiful to be near. What would she say to him?
But then he walked right up to Ila and they smiled at each other. "Aeyr!" she said. "I thought you'd be here. How's it going?"
He nodded slightly, and then looked around the table at Josie, and then at Bri. He seemed unphased by what she knew must have been her bright red cheeks. He stuck out his hand over to Josie and said, "Hey.”
Josie smiled and nodded, like they had met before. Bri was shocked to find herself suddenly jealous of Josie for the first time in their friendship. Josie looked so bright and shining, and of course this stranger would respond the way everyone responded to Josie - he'd fall in love with her instantly!
Bri had the thought only for a second before she became appalled at herself. Why was she thinking like this? Josie was her closest friend for now, and she didn't even know this boy one bit. He just happened to be handsom
e enough to make her feel weak in the knees, perched on the skinny bar stool where she sat.
Then the boy turned back to her and looked into her eyes. Her red cheeks grew cool, as a shiver ran up her spine. "Aeron," he repeated, now holding out his hand to her. “People call me Aeyr these days.” He smiled. He looked like someone she knew, but she couldn’t place who. He reminded her of someone she couldn’t quite remember.
But then as she looked back at him, Bri felt something in her rise to meet his gaze. It was something she'd never felt before - some deep and mysteriously confident part of herself that swelled and grew toward the surface. "Hey," she felt herself breathe softly, and then felt a dreamy smile spread across her own face. "I'm Brianne," she said.
He nodded, and seemed to understand. Then he looked away and back to Ila. Bri felt like she was standing in the middle of a lightening field, watching the world flash and glow. She took another sip of beer, staring into the glass in a kind of wonderment.
"Want to sit down?" asked Ila.
The boy - Aeyr - glanced around the bar for a moment and then back to the table. He shrugged. Had he come here to meet Ila? Or just on his own? What was his story? Bri wondered.
"I'm gonna go have a smoke," he said. "Maybe I'll step in after."
He reached into his back pocket and drew out a packet of rolling tobacco, and gestured with it in the air, as if to demonstrate where he was going. Ila nodded.
"You want one?" he asked her.
She stood up, and suddenly Bri felt jealous of her, too, and mad at herself for it, again. Apparently, this stranger had quite the effect.
"Bri?" asked Ila, inviting her out, too.
Without thinking, Bri stood to join them. "I'd love one," she said.
"They're -" said Aeyr. "I mix lavender and sage in my rolling tobacco. I don't know if you like that?" he was smiling at Bri again, but smiling without smiling.
"You smoke, Bri?" asked Josie.
"Nope," said Bri.
Aeyr laughed. "Well," he said, "you can just come out with us anyway, then."
As Bri stood to follow Aeyr and Ila, she realized that Josie was still sitting. "Wait, Josie," said Bri, "you're not coming, too?"
Josie shrugged. The other two were already out the door. "I'm afraid the waitress might bring our food and think we left or something."
"Oh," said Bri. "Even if we leave our sweaters and things behind?"
"Well," said Josie. "It's ok. I'm just going to stay here."
Bri hesitated, and then felt suddenly relieved that Ila and Aeyr were gone. Why not just stay behind with Josie? Aeyr would come back in, like he said he would. In the meantime, she could drink her beer and calm down a little bit. She was feeling suddenly nervous about everything. What a strange night this was turning out to be!
"Okay," said Bri. "You know, I really do want to eat those curly fries. And yeah, I totally don't smoke."
"Yeah," said Josie. "What is it about that guy? He kind of creeps me out."
Bri considered for a moment. So far, she had known Josie to be an excellent judge of character, and everything they'd talked about they seemed to agree on. Except for this? Maybe she was right. "Huh," she said. "I thought - " and then she trailed off, not sure how to explain anything about what she thought.
"I know," said Josie. "He's really - "
"Amazing looking?" finished Bri.
Josie laughed. "What? That is, like, the first time I've ever heard to say you find anyone good-looking. I think he's totally weird looking!"
"Really?"
"I mean, yeah. You didn't - Ok, he might be kind of pretty, but don't you think there's something weird about him?"
"Well, yeah. I mean."
Suddenly Bri felt someone come up beside her and rest a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Bri!" said a man's voice. It sounded jovial and familiar, but even when she turned to see who it was, she couldn't quite place the almost-recognizable face.
"Hah!" he laughed. The guy had the most normal, pleasant face, and dark, brownish-blonde hair. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and plain jeans. "You don't remember me, do you?" he said, seeing her look of confusion.
Geez! Bri thought. More strange men having weird connections with her tonight? When would it stop? It was getting comical, she thought. She glanced at Josie, who seemed to understand, and responded by signaling to the waitress that they would need another pitcher of beer.
"Um," she said, "no?"
He looked a little hurt, and then he smiled again.
"Oh! Mark!"
He grinned, and plopped down on Ila's stool and put his elbows up on the table. His arms looked tough and muscley, and brown from the sun. His face was clean-shaven, and his eyes were a warm, honey-brown color.
A flood of memories came back to Bri suddenly.
"I haven't seen you, in, like, years, Bri. How the hell are you? Look at you, drinking beer!" he said, gesturing with his fist as if to toast with her as she took the last sip from her glass. "And who's this lovely lady?" He turned to Josie.
"Oh, this is my friend Josie. Josie, this is Mark. We, um . . ." she smiled broadly at Mark, suddenly overjoyed to see him. "We grew up together!"
"Woah," said Josie. "Cool. You live in the city, Mark?"
"Well, I'm moving here now. I had been back in Boxfield, actually, working for my brother. He still lives there with his wifey, you know." He chuckled, like he'd made a joke.
"Doing what?" asked Josie.
"Oh, you know, mostly construction, some restoration carpentry, when we can get it."
"That's how come you have such a nice tan, huh?" said Bri, jabbing him in the arm familiarly.
Mark smiled broadly. "What are you doing back in town, Bri?"
"Oh, I just moved back too," she said.
"You were in, um, let's see, South Carolina, right?"
"North," she said.
"Ah, right. North Carolina. How was that?"
"Good . . . " she answered, not really wanting to talk about college. She was trying to remember the last time she would have seen Mark.
"The last time I saw you," he said, as if he had been thinking just the same thing. "was the Thanksgiving after you moved away. Remember? Emily Davis threw a big party for everyone, and I was up visiting my mom."
"Right," she said. "You were living with your dad by then, huh? For kind of a while, I guess. Where did you move to again?"
"Colorado," he said. "Outside of Denver."
"Right," she said. She looked him over again. He was swarthy and calm. She saw the nice muscles on his arms, and imagined him out in the sun, building things in Boxfield. "So you're back in Massachusetts now for a while?"
"Yeah," he said. "I’ve been back for some time. My parents got back together, actually, weirdly enough."
"What!" she said. "That never happens."
"I know," he smiled. "It's pretty crazy. They're like totally in love with each other."
"Wow," Bri said. "I remember them fighting so much. What happened - your mom had an affair, right?"
"Yeah, with Steve Jacobs from down the street."
"Oh shit!" said Bri. "Right! Your dad was so heartbroken, wasn't he?"
Mark looked suddenly a little offended, as if Bri had said something a little too intimate. She sensed a sudden sadness about him, that didn't seem like it was just about the difficulty his parents had when she and Mark were in high school. In fact, as she remembered, that had been right around the time that she and Mark had stopped being so close. They'd always lived next door to one another and gone to different schools. In 9th grade they got funneled into the same giant high school, and Mark's parents were fighting all the time, and he joined the football team and started dating cheerleaders. Bri had been grossed out, and busy having a crush on her English teacher, anyway. She read a lot of Victorian novels and Irish poetry, hated football games, and tolerated school with boredom and perfect grades.
Just then, their hot waitress came back with a big tray of food. She put the curly fries
down in front of Mark, absent mindedly, and a plate of fish and chips with a side salad at Josie's place. In front of Bri she placed an extra-big salad with tempe and roasted red peppers. As soon as she finished setting the last plate down, she grabbed the pitcher being handed to her by the bartender, plunked it down on the table and scooped up the empty one.
"All set, ladies?" said the waitress. "Mark?"
They nodded, and the waitress turned on her heel and stepped away. "What?" said Josie. "You know her, too?"
Mark grinned, like they definitely knew each other. "Well, I guess you could say that."
"Hm," said Josie. Bri wondered if she disapproved of the waitress or something. Maybe sometimes Josie was a little too judgmental.
"Should we wait for Ila to come back?" asked Bri.
"Probably," said Josie. "But Mark's got your fries."
"Oh, you can have some," said Bri, and reached over the plate to grab a few from in front of him. "You want some of this beer, too?" she asked.
"Nah," he said. "I'm alright."
Josie watched Bri's gesture, and Bri could tell that she was surprised at Bri's comfort around Mark. "How long have you guys known each other?" Josie asked, filling her and Bri's glasses and leaving Ila's as it was - half emptied.
"Oh man," said Bri, mouth full of fries. "Like one million years, probably."
"Well, not quite," said Mark. "I mean, I moved away in tenth grade."
"You were neighbors?" asked Josie.
"How did you know?" asked Mark.
"A guess," she answered.
Mark ate a few French fries, and then there was a sudden loud clapping and yelling from the guys at the corner of the bar, watching the game. Mark's eyes focused on the TV screen and grew dazed and then widened as he realized that his team had scored and he hadn't even been watching. "WHooo!" he yelled, his voice joining those from across the room.
Bri watched him do this, and remembered more clearly when they had stopped being so close. She and Mark had been best friends all through childhood, and suddenly they'd both flowered into such opposite kinds of adolescence. She had thought that he'd become a bit of a womanizer, and it had bothered her. She hadn't dated anyone at all until her senior year of high school, and then she'd only had one boyfriend, who nerded out about slam poetry all the time. She'd broken up with him right after graduation. But by then, Mark had moved away, out to Coloado to live with his father.
