Fluke (15 page)

Maybe I couldn’t wait to move.

After four hours of driving around from place to place and filling out applications, I was a little sick of the whole looking for a job bit.
 
I was in the mall parking lot, standing next to my car and wondering what to do next.
 
I decided that I should make my way back home, grab a bite to eat, and re-group.
 
I got in, turned on the car and the AC to max, and flipped through my CDs while the air went from stifling to bearable.
 
I decided on a homemade mix.
 
“
Chillin
’,” it said on my crappy homemade label, which sounded very welcoming at that moment.
 
I threw it in the player, and “On Your Shore” by
Enya
came through the speakers as I drove off down the road.

I stayed on the main road off of the mall’s entrance for a while.
 
It would take me almost all the way to my apartment, and I enjoyed the drive.
 
I was driving by Hazel Beach College, my old stomping grounds, when I glanced up and noticed that they had a message on the Campus Happenings, sign saying that the bookstore was hiring.
 
I faltered for a moment, but decided what the hell, I’ll give it a shot.
 
I swerved the Civic dangerously into the lane on my right, hearing a loud horn as I cut someone off.
 
“Asshole!” The man in the Chevy pickup hollered out his window as I turned and pulled into the main parking lot of the campus, effectively slowing him to a crawl behind me.
 
I could hear his engine roar as he gunned it and sped away, angered by my driving.
 
Delivering pizza had caused me
to drive a little carelessly at times.
 
After all, the faster you got the pizza there, the better the tip, usually.

I pulled into the first open space I saw and killed the engine.
 
I took a deep breath as I got out of my car.
 
Here goes nothing, again.

I walked among the buildings of the school on my way to the bookstore.
 
I was somewhat familiar with the campus since one of my three years of higher education had been here.
 
I remembered exactly where to go.
 
The last of my collegiate years had been spent here.
 
That year was the straw that broke the camel’s back, the point at which I made the decision that it just wasn’t for me; I didn’t need college.
 
The point when I figured out that life would teach me what I needed, that I would not be institutionalized.
 
I had vigorously justified why I shouldn’t go to college with a certain, misguided youthful zeal.
 
It was only recently that I had wondered if I had been wrong.

Following the sidewalk, I found the bookstore nestled against the campus library on the south side of the grounds.
 
The entire place was forged from large gray stones and some buildings had long, writhing ivy twisted around the outer facets of them.
 
The bookstore was one of them, and I noticed that it hung almost to the door as I walked up and opened it.
 

“Hello,” the girl behind the counter said to me.
 
The clothes and the smile told me she was a student.
 
Probably a freshman or maybe an athlete, based on her build.
 
And she hadn’t been here long enough to gain the “freshman fifteen.”

“Hi, there.
 
I saw the notice on the sign, that you were hiring?” I said, looking around me.
 
The inside of the little shop was adorned with pennants, sweaters, pencils, and other items that boasted “WHITECAPS” prominently on them.
 
The school baseball team was the Whitecaps, and everybody at the school tried to be proud of them.
 
After all, the school was small, and baseball was the only sport that actually pulled in enough people to actively compete against the other schools in the division.
 
 
 

“Oh, sure,” she said.
 
“I just need you to fill out this application, and I need to see your student ID.”

“Student ID?” I repeated what she said, dumbly.
 

“Yeah.
 
Are you not a student?” she asked.
 
I could see some bewilderment on her face, as though she couldn’t really understand why someone who was not a student would even be in here.
 
By this point, I was beginning to wonder just why I
was
in here.
 
And that’s when it hit me.

“I’m sorry.
 
Yes, I am, or I will be a student.
 
I’ll be right back.
 
Thanks,” I pushed my way through the door, again, and made my way over to the admissions building.

Maybe I’d go back to school, after all.

****

It was about 5pm the same day when I knocked on Sara’s door.
 
I shifted my suitcase from left to right hand, while I waited for her to answer.
 
I only hoped that this surprise was going to be okay.
 
I turned and looked at my clothes, still on hangers, stacked in the back seat of the Civic.
 
Wait until she asks
, my mind said to me one final time, but it was too late.
 
I turned back around as I heard the door opening, and watched as Sara quickly evaluated the situation, her green eyes sparkling.

She squealed and grabbed me in a bear hug, causing me to drop the suitcase.
 

“Yay,” I agreed, returning the hug.
 
We finally pulled away from one another, and she fingered the tie hanging from around my neck.
 
I hadn’t wasted any time once I left the HBC campus, or “Harvard by the Sea” as the students called it, and I was wearing what I had been that morning.
 

“Let’s move you in here, sexy man.”

It still seemed surreal to me; it was like the greatest dream ever and I just couldn’t wake up from it.

This is going to be a real bastard to recover from when I wake up.

A line from a song danced through my head quickly:
sometimes there’s no poison like a dream.

Had I really been a lonely, miserable pizza boy just a few weeks before? Was I really now a college student, working in the book store, and moving in with a woman who I wouldn’t have had the balls to say hello to even after a dozen beers? Could this really have been happening to me?

It was happening, as unreal as it seemed.
 
There was no denying it as Sara and I began moving my things in.
 
I tried to not let her help me, but she insisted.
 
Within 15 minutes my things were hanging in her spare bedroom closet until she made room in what was now
our
closet.
 
When the Civic was empty, we sat down on her sofa and were soon trading smiles.
 
I loved just to look at her.

“No luck with the job hunting?’” she asked me.
 
Her hair was a little damp, and I leaned over to bury my nose in it, and just take her in.
 
I could tell that she had showered recently, and I wondered to
myself whether she had taken a bath.
 
I loved the thought of a woman bathing, spending hours grooming, showing the utmost care for her body.

Sara pulled me close, putting an end to my thoughts, and soon enough we were giving each other the business again.
 
It was different this time, saturated with feeling and emotions I hadn’t experienced before... several moments, I found myself holding her face, deep inside of her, just staring in her eyes, realizing what love really was.
 
It wasn’t a soap opera, it wasn’t a movie, it wasn’t some stupid romance novel.
 
It was the moment you were getting laid and didn’t care, it was the moment you realize that you had no idea what love was.
 
It hit you like a brick in the heart, in the face, in the stomach, and
nothing
anyone tells you can prepare you for it, forget the great poets.
 
Suddenly, it doesn’t even matter that the cheerleaders laughed at you in school. Love wasn’t something that could be defined or articulated, it was just something to be felt, it was something that was yours, and it didn’t matter if anyone else knew or not.

We were finished, just lying alongside each other on the couch when I told her.
 
I hadn’t planned on saying it just yet, but I had no control over the words coming out of my mouth.
 
My inner editor put the “closed” sign out and went for a smoke break.

“I love you,” I blurted.

She pulled my arms around her tighter, and we lay there for several minutes like that.
 
My heart was racing, and I kept wondering to myself if I had actually just told her I loved her.
 
And more importantly, if I did say it, did she hear me?

Very nice Adam-boy.
 
One step at a time, huh?

My fears were erased, as the answer to that question came almost as soon as I thought it, as if she were reading my mind, our strange chemical, and mental, bond fully intact.

“I love you, too” she said.

We lay together like that, naked; sweat dried on our bodies, our legs locked together until it was very dark in the room.
 
Sunlight had stopped penetrating the lacey curtains for some time, and we lay together in total contentment.

Fluke, you’re in love
, I told myself
.
 
And apparently, someone’s in love with you at the same time.

I think we both had made peace with all the thoughts that were probably coursing through our minds; I know that I had, at least.
 
I was the first one to speak, and my voice croaked like a frog.
 
“I know it was several hours ago when you asked me, but I did get a job today.”

She was quiet for a second, and then laughed lightly as she agreed, “A very delayed answer to my query, indeed.
 
Where?”

“You are laying with the newest salesperson for the Hazel Beach College bookstore,” I announced to her, raising my voice dramatically as I delivered my little spiel.
 
I raised my arms up to the air in a pose of triumph.
 
The idiot side stayed strong despite my long-gone need to try and impress.

“Don’t you need to attend the college to work there?” she asked me, with a cute, little confused furrow to her brow.

“How did you know that?” Apparently, this was common knowledge.

“Well, I just thought that was standard with all colleges.
 
I worked in my college’s bookstore.
 
They saved jobs like that for all the working class kids.” She said this rather matter-of-factly, and I kissed her on her forehead.
 

“I guess I’m the only idiot who didn’t know that,” I told her, briefly thinking of the confused young girl at the bookstore.
 
“Which brings me to my next announcement,” I started, again, in as dramatic a voice as I could muster, “you’re also
laying
next to the newest member of HBC’s sophomore class.”
 
I laughed, and she hugged me.
 
I thought about it, and added in a normal tone “At least, I think I am in the sophomore class.
 
Shoot, maybe I’m a freshman.
 
I don’t know.” We both laughed at this, and were quiet again for a while.
 
I lay next to her, and I can’t recall what I was thinking about except that I felt very much at peace.
 
Eventually, Sara shifted into an upright position and then stood.

“Follow me to our bed,” she said, taking my hand.
 
I stood up next to her and traced one hand down the side of her body, admiring it even in the shadowy darkness.
 
She pulled my hand gently, and I followed to
our
bed.
 

It was only fitting that what felt like one of the best days of my life ended in perfect sex, followed by perfect sleep, all of which I had never experienced until then.