With Love Comes Strange Currencies
He'd considered it plenty of times before.
How if Rory lived in a big city like this, he could at least drive past her place and see if her light was on.
No one would have to know.
Or he'd catch a glimpse of her as she left the coffeeshop.
Watch the wind in her hair, while she read in the park.
Anything.
Has it been raining everywhere for two weeks straight?
"Have you ever been in love?" Some girl asks Jess. It's hard for him to make out her face. Her speech is bright and slurred.
Moments ago, on the table, there'd been a small candle flickering in a red glass jar, but it went out right before she sat down.
He hadn't asked her to sit down, but she sat down anyway.
What time is it?
"What?" he says back to her. He'd heard her perfectly, even though the bar is crowded and it is too dark to make out her mouth.
"Have you ever been in love? You're cute. You look like you have," she says, downing the rest of her drink and leaving her cherry in the ice.
"Why?" he says.
"I don't know. I'm drunk and I saw you sitting over here," she says.
Oh.
"Oh," he says softly.
"I'm Clementine," she says.
"Jess," he says.
"Are you here by yourself?" she asks.
Jess looks around for his buddies and sees them up at the bar. Still.
No.
"No. I'm with those guys. I just don't want another beer," Jess says plainly, pointing towards them.
"You won't answer my question?" she asks.
"What question?" he says.
Have I ever been in love.
"Have you ever been in love? You're avoiding the question," she says.
"I don't even know you," he says.
"You have to know me to answer the question?" she asks.
"I guess not. Yes. Actually I have," he says, looking down at the soggy label on his beer. He almost has it completely torn off.
"What was her name?" Clementine asks.
Rory.
Did I say that out loud?
His buddies are heading back over towards him now.
He stands up.
Wait. Did I say that out loud?
"Hey, I'm gonna jet. I kept my seat warm for ya," Jess says to Michael.
"You're outta here?" Michael says back.
"Yeah," Jess says, lightly punching Michael's arm.
He has to walk past Clementine to leave the bar.
She stands up and smiles at him, sorta leaning against the wall so she doesn't fall. She's mindlessly flicking the red stirrer straw with her thumb. At nothing. The wall, the ground.
Jess walks over to her. So close to her.
He can smell her hair.
Flowers and Peaches.
"Her name's Rory," he says softly into her ear.
I don't know if she can hear me. It's loud in here.
"Rory?" Clementine turns and says back to him.
Jess nods and puts his hand on her shoulder for a moment before turning and walking away.
He turns back around and sees her friends surrounding her now.
She steps forward.
"That's such a pretty name," she says, smiling.
"It is," he says, nodding.
It is.
"Wait. Hey Jess!" she says.
He turns around.
"Did she break your heart?" she asks.
YES.
Her eyes get bigger and she tilts her head.
Her friends are watching now too.
Did it get darker in here? Louder, too?
"Everybody breaks everybody's heart, right?" he says back to her, half-smiling crookedly and turning around again to walk out.
Out.
Out and down the street as the cold dark New York night whips and wraps around him.
So tight.
The next night back in Philadelphia, it's another girl.
"Are you seeing anyone?" she asks.
Jess fumbles in his coat pocket for a cigarette.
"Me? No," he says, putting the cigarette between his lips.
And his hands back in his pockets.
There's a lighter in here somewhere.
"Well, you should call me," she says, smiling.
Flick flick flick.
He is smoking now.
He scratches the tip of his nose with his thumb.
You're beautiful. Who are you?
"Who are you?" he asks, leaning towards her.
The band on the stage in the corner of the room begins a new song.
This one is quieter. Softer. Slower.
Another dark bar.
Another Saturday night.
Who are you?
Who am I?
"Here," she says, sliding him a torn piece of paper.
He doesn't look at it yet.
"What do you do?" she asks.
"I'm a writer," he says.
That feels good.
This is the first time he's told someone that.
It feels real now.
Now that there's a real copy of his book in his bag.
"What do you write?" she asks.
"Books," he says gently.
"You've written one?"
He nods and finishes his glass of whiskey.
"What's it called?" she asks.
"The Subsect," he says back.
A short novel. I can't wait to tell Rory about it. Will she care? What will she say? First Luke. I need to call Luke. Tomorrow. I'll call him tomorrow.
She bites her bottom lip and stares at him; all lipgloss and long eyelashes.
Who are you?
He looks down at the piece of paper.
Brooke.
She leans forward and kisses his mouth.
He kisses her back.
And just like always, sometimes he can't help pretending she's Rory.
Am I doing this?
Even when they're in the alley behind the bar, up against the cold red brick.
How long was I supposed to wait?
Even when he opens his eyes and sees Brooke's red, red hair falling across her forehead.
Fuck it.
He grabs her ass. She moans in his ear.
Are people watching?
"Let's get out of here," Jess says.
"Okay," she says, adjusting her purse upon her shoulder.
Jess zips his coat up all the way.