If I was twenty-three
Mike made sure to close the door behind him firmly as he entered the waiting room.
A girl sat hunched on a chair next to the heater in front of the counter. Marg, the receptionist, hadn’t been able to get down her hill that morning because of the frost, so Mike had been called in to help Lewis catch up on some appointments.
“Hey, how ya doing? Lewis know you’re here?” Mike asked the cold girl as he went behind the counter.
“Yeah he does. Not too bad, yourself?” she replied, warming her fingers against the grates of the heater.
Mike nodded then looked up.
Small wrists turned slender fingers over in front of the warmth, while a pale face was mostly hidden behind unkempt brown curls.
“Have we met before?” he asked genuinely, furrowing his brow.
The girl looked up at him this time- a rosy tinge returning to her pale cheeks.
She cleared her throat carefully and quietly, as if not to hurt herself, and then returned the frown.
“Perhaps?”
Mike put his hand to his mouth as he struggled to remember before a lightning bolt hit him.
“Oh!” he exclaimed, “You’re Stephen’s friend!”
The girl's mouth opened slightly and a weak smile crossed her face, “Yes,” she said, “I was.”
“Oh man,” Mike shook his head and continued as he dropped his bag down by his feet, not noticing the girl’s reaction, “I haven’t seen him since he left! How is he?”
She shrugged and smiled feebly once more, “He emails me every once in a while,” she replied, still not taking her hands away from the heater.
“I think he’s living with Jacqui now. I think they’re quite happy.”
Jacqui.
Mike suddenly remembered who this girl in front of him was.
“Oh,” he replied, unsure of what to say next- and thankfully, any more awkward banter was averted as Lewis entered the room.
“Come on in, Rose. Door on the right and I’ll be with you in a sec,” Lewis told the girl in a nasal voice, showing he too was affected by the harsh winter as most others in the area were.
Rose stood up and walked through to Lewis’ room.
Mike had seen her with Stephen on more than one occasion, and she’d always walked so tall. Now as he watched her disappear down the hallway, she looked like she’d shrunk.
“She’s my favourite,” Stephen had slurred to Mike on more than one occasion, and Mike had always laughed.
Until the night he met Rose.
Stephen had wanted to pick up Rose after he and Mike had rented a DVD (after visiting the pub, of course). Rose had answered the door in tight jeans and a fitted t-shirt, with a hot smile that cut through the cold air.
Mike had been mildly intoxicated when he met her, and he exclaimed in front of both Stephen and Rose, “No wonder she’s your favourite!”
Mike had left Stephen’s early that night, leaving Rose and Stephen on the couch.
Early on both Rose and Stephen had made it clear that they couldn’t get involved with anyone, but that didn’t stop their mutual friends from trying to push the two together. Late nights, lust and the loosening effects of alcohol had made their slope all the more slippery. Stephen had invited her to go away with him on several occasions, but something always came up with Rose.
One afternoon, Stephen drank a bottle of wine in the library after Rose couldn’t make their study date.
He never bedded Rose, but he definitely got her into bed. Or was that the other way around?
The communication that was so raw and honest to begin conflicted with their morality, and soon their actions didn’t meet their promises.
“You’re a tease,” Stephen had texted Rose when she didn’t stay in his bed one night.
“I didn’t think you were serious,” had been her reply.
It had all been a case of too much, too soon, with no climax. The intensity of their flirtation continued to build until the time came for Stephen to leave and everything collapsed in on itself. Stephen left and burned the bridges behind him.
Rose had been Stephen’s, and Stephen had been Rose’s, not that anything had been specifically said on the matter.
Now Mike didn’t know who was what.
A girl sat hunched on a chair next to the heater in front of the counter. Marg, the receptionist, hadn’t been able to get down her hill that morning because of the frost, so Mike had been called in to help Lewis catch up on some appointments.
“Hey, how ya doing? Lewis know you’re here?” Mike asked the cold girl as he went behind the counter.
“Yeah he does. Not too bad, yourself?” she replied, warming her fingers against the grates of the heater.
Mike nodded then looked up.
Small wrists turned slender fingers over in front of the warmth, while a pale face was mostly hidden behind unkempt brown curls.
“Have we met before?” he asked genuinely, furrowing his brow.
The girl looked up at him this time- a rosy tinge returning to her pale cheeks.
She cleared her throat carefully and quietly, as if not to hurt herself, and then returned the frown.
“Perhaps?”
Mike put his hand to his mouth as he struggled to remember before a lightning bolt hit him.
“Oh!” he exclaimed, “You’re Stephen’s friend!”
The girl's mouth opened slightly and a weak smile crossed her face, “Yes,” she said, “I was.”
“Oh man,” Mike shook his head and continued as he dropped his bag down by his feet, not noticing the girl’s reaction, “I haven’t seen him since he left! How is he?”
She shrugged and smiled feebly once more, “He emails me every once in a while,” she replied, still not taking her hands away from the heater.
“I think he’s living with Jacqui now. I think they’re quite happy.”
Jacqui.
Mike suddenly remembered who this girl in front of him was.
“Oh,” he replied, unsure of what to say next- and thankfully, any more awkward banter was averted as Lewis entered the room.
“Come on in, Rose. Door on the right and I’ll be with you in a sec,” Lewis told the girl in a nasal voice, showing he too was affected by the harsh winter as most others in the area were.
Rose stood up and walked through to Lewis’ room.
Mike had seen her with Stephen on more than one occasion, and she’d always walked so tall. Now as he watched her disappear down the hallway, she looked like she’d shrunk.
“She’s my favourite,” Stephen had slurred to Mike on more than one occasion, and Mike had always laughed.
Until the night he met Rose.
Stephen had wanted to pick up Rose after he and Mike had rented a DVD (after visiting the pub, of course). Rose had answered the door in tight jeans and a fitted t-shirt, with a hot smile that cut through the cold air.
Mike had been mildly intoxicated when he met her, and he exclaimed in front of both Stephen and Rose, “No wonder she’s your favourite!”
Mike had left Stephen’s early that night, leaving Rose and Stephen on the couch.
Early on both Rose and Stephen had made it clear that they couldn’t get involved with anyone, but that didn’t stop their mutual friends from trying to push the two together. Late nights, lust and the loosening effects of alcohol had made their slope all the more slippery. Stephen had invited her to go away with him on several occasions, but something always came up with Rose.
One afternoon, Stephen drank a bottle of wine in the library after Rose couldn’t make their study date.
He never bedded Rose, but he definitely got her into bed. Or was that the other way around?
The communication that was so raw and honest to begin conflicted with their morality, and soon their actions didn’t meet their promises.
“You’re a tease,” Stephen had texted Rose when she didn’t stay in his bed one night.
“I didn’t think you were serious,” had been her reply.
It had all been a case of too much, too soon, with no climax. The intensity of their flirtation continued to build until the time came for Stephen to leave and everything collapsed in on itself. Stephen left and burned the bridges behind him.
Rose had been Stephen’s, and Stephen had been Rose’s, not that anything had been specifically said on the matter.
Now Mike didn’t know who was what.
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