Tuesday, September 3, 2024, 5:00PM
(Alba is 23, Pete is 26)
Alba: I was coming in, he was going out. Well, getting ready to go out. Pete was wearing his blue sweat suit and was tying his shoes. I couldn't help but grown as I threw my coat over the couch. I made my way to the sad excuse of a kitchen and poured myself some juice.
I hated it when he ran. I really did. I wished he went back to swimming, had found a way to get back to it. He walked up to me and gave me a quick peck on the neck.
"65 minutes." He informed me, and was walking to the door. In 65 minutes he would come back in a foul mood because of vendors, cabs, and sweat. But he wouldn't admit the last part. It's just something I knew. My mind was racing; today was awful and exhausting and I wasn't in the mood to talk to him when he gets back from his run.
"You ran yesterday, you don't have to today." I said to him.
"It's exercise. I don't wanna be one of those guys who dies of a heart problem at 30."
It's slut time. "You know…running isn't the only form of exercise." I slowly turn to him and give him the eyes. He's frozen at the door; at least I got his attention. "I read that sex burns more calories than running…in a shorter time. And we'll both get exercise." I move towards him and begin kissing his neck and making little purring sounds. He's breathing heavily. God. Men are just too easy.
Next thing I know is that we're on the couch and we're grinding on each other and kissing madly. I begin to take of his jacket when he stops suddenly "Wait. You…you don't like sex after work."
"Can't a girl have some irregularity in her wants."
"But…"
"C'mon…you know you want it…."I purr and place his hand up my skirt. It's then that I realize that I've gone too far and Pete knows it too. "Uhm…I don't want to. I'm scared." He says and climbs off me. He heads to the door and I sit up and say "I don't want you go to running because you come back a whiny little girl." Done. I said it.
"What? No, I don't."
"Yeah. You do. And I know that you want to exercise, and that's good. But running? It doesn't matter if you can run good if you hate it so much."
He looked absolutely irked "No running? You suggested it. Because you didn't like that I kept swinging around a tennis racket or lifting weights…or…the other sports I've tried."
"Yes, because you're such a sporty dude. By the way does your ass still hurt from when you got it kicked playing soccer with a bunch of 4th graders?"
"Hey! Those kids were huge and they were English which means that they'd been training since they were in their stupid diapers. You know me, Alb. I can't just bum around, I need something physical. And not just sex. Though I love sex. It's just…yeah…"
"What about swimming?" I knew I crossed the line before I crossed it.
"You used to love it." My voice was becoming softer and softer.
"Yeah. Used to. Before my mom died and decided to swim with me." The bitterness that filled his voice hurt me. His face had turned red and his eyes were filled with all kinds of emotion. God, I felt selfish. I couldn't look at him.
"I'm sorry." I mutter turning away and starring out of the kitchen window. Silence fills the air. The studio we share is long, but narrow and in a microsecond he moves from the door to next to me on the couch. His arms find their way around me and I rest my head on his shoulder. A soft kiss is planted on my head "Me too. I'm sorry…I'll stay in. Let's watch a movie. What do you want to watch?"
"I'm not really…in the movie mood."
"Okay. How about a board game? Scrabble?" I don't answer. "Battleship? Strip Poker?" he runs his hand under my shirt and cups me. I burst out and laughing and turn to him, draping my legs over his knees. "Let's just make dinner together. A whole meal. With soup, salad, dessert and everything/"
"Chocolate?"
It's bad for his singing, but I don't care "Chocolate. And some wine…"
"Mmm…how French. Wait, wine or grape juice? You're not supposed to…"
"One night's fine."
"Okay…and some wine. And some bedtime loving?"
"Lots of bedtime loving."
He grins smugly "Let's just skip the dinner and hit the bed." I give him a playful slap and begin to get the groceries out of the bag. He moves in and begins to help me. It's like a system, really. We move together and yet individually. We don't talk. It's not needed. Our eyes will meet and we'll smile at each other. Our hands will graze each other and our fingers will wrap around each other. Those little moments and touches are things I'll keep in my heart for a lifetime.
Saturday, April 13, 2024, 3:17 am
(Pete is 26, Alba is 23)
Pete: A cold hand wrapped itself around my bare shoulder. I woke up. The first thing I thought was that someone broke into my apartment and was going to rape or kill me or something. But then I remembered that Alba slept over and that the fingers around my arm were hers. A grown-up sleep over after a wonderfully quite birthday party. Jesus, I miss quiet birthday parties. With people you actually give a like, not people you need to suck up to. I miss quiet parties. And the crazy love making afterwards was a bonus. I was about to fall asleep again when I heard her whisper: "I'm back."
What? "Hmm?" The aftermath of sleep was still keeping my eyes shut.
"I said 'I'm back.'"
"Where'd you go?" She's a time traveler. She went through time. Duh.
She didn't answer right away. Oops. "You didn't notice I was gone?"
No, I didn't notice. I was asleep. I turn on my back and face her "Uhm…no?"
She frown irritably "Okay…so I just vanish and you don't notice. Swell." With that she plops down on the bed and turns her back to me. Note to self: Never let Alba get tipsy, she become insanely moody.
"I…I'm sorry. Hey. Hey. Sorry."
"Whatever." I hate it when she does that.
"Whaddya want me to do? I'm sorry. Really, I am. Really. "
"Stop being Holden Caulfield and leave me alone."
"You want space? I…I can hit the couch tonight…If space is what you want."
"Leave me alone." Okay. I'm too tired to argue so I get up and pull on my boxers and grab my pillow. My apartment is a studio so I'm thankful I don't have to open any doors to head to my living room. Just as I lie down and shut my eyes she says: "You're not even gonna try to make me feel better?"
I try not to groan "But I did."
"You call that trying?"
"I'm really, really sorry. Really, really sorry I didn't notice. I love you. I love you …to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, - I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death."
She loved that poem. As Holden Caulfield would say…it killed her. It really killed her. She was silent.
"Alba, may I move back to the bed?"
"Okay…" she mutters. I get up and climb into the sheets with her, pulling her close and kissing her brow lightly. Through the glow of the bathroom light I could see the thought in her mind. "I'm sorry. You were asleep. I was being stupid."
"That's okay. We're both stupid."
She laughed "Don't let me drink again."
"I won't" She smiled and moved closer to me, her head resting against my chest.
"Hey, Alb?"
"Hmm?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure." I laced my fingers through her hair. It wasn't as fun anymore since she had cut it.
"Will you marry me?" She stopped breathing. I felt it. She stiffened and pulled away from me. She hated it when I asked that. Her eyes were teary.
"Oh, Pete…you know I ca…"
"Just 'yea' or 'nea'"
"No…I'm sorry. We can't…" She was about to cry.
Alba: He broke my heart. He promised. That question was off limits. We established that. By agreeing to it I'd be messing about with the future. I couldn't do that.
"Okay." He said. Without a trace of sadness.
"Huh?"
"Hey, Alb?"
"Pete? What…?" I was trying to hold my tears in.
He smiled. Why was he smiling? I just turned down his proposal. "Can I ask you something?"
"But…you did…What?" my mind was racing. What was going on?
"Can I ask you something?"
Sure, I'll bite "I…yes…"
"Will you move in with me?"
"Huh?"
He reaches over me to the bedside table; I hear the drawer open and close, then the lamp flicks on. In his hands was a key hanging from a key chain and it was beautiful. It was the kind of metal that looked aged, with green flecks on it, and I recognized it instantly. It was a lark, "Shakespeare's favorite bird" Pete always joked. He turned it over and engraved on it were the words: Alba De Tamble and the address to Pete's apartment.
"You see…I figured if you didn't want to marry me…we could move in together. And it's kinda like being married except you don't have to take my name, and if we get a kid it'll be a bastard, and if one of us dies we're not entitled to each other's stuff and money that's not in the will, and we won't share each other's funds-"
I cut him off with a kiss. I started laughing, and I hugged him even more: "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
"Woah…easy…I'm not nailing you yet…"
Pete: Humor is a strange defense. I hold her close and press my face to her neck. I'm happy, insanely happy. Except about our kid having to be a bastard- if ever there is one, and with the rate we go, there might be- that part sucks. But I'm happy. Really.
Saturday, November 23, 2024, 4:23 pm
(Alba is 23)
Alba: I was on my way out of the pharmacy when I found out I was being followed. But it wasn't the nerve racking being followed, the person wanted to talk to me, I felt that. So I made my way to the park and took a seat facing the lake and the ducks. Pretty soon a very young voice says "Hi. May I sit with you?"
I look up and see a teenager, roughly 16 years old, with striking blue eyes looking down at me. He was dressed snugly, with a dark red pioneer cap, black coat, scarf, slacks and leather shoes. Probably some kid from a nearby private school.
"All right." He takes a seat beside me. "Do I know you?"
"Not yet."
So he was that kind of person. "I see." He takes some time to give out any other information so I ask "You're a CDP?"
"I am."
"So you stole those….very nice clothes."
He shrugged "They were in some rich kid's dorm I landed in. He won't miss them."
"How do you know he's rich?"
"He had one of those…elite boarding school stickers on his stuff."
"Just because he goes to an 'elite boarding school' doesn't mean he's rich. He could've been a scholar."
"He's rich. You should've seen the furniture. And his suitcases were in mint condition. And looked very expensive. Holden Caulfield's roommate in one of his schools had a beat up suitcase that's how he knew he wasn't too wealthy."
I take a second glance at the boy sitting next to me. His profile looked familiar. Like I had seen him somewhere before, and his eyes. There was only one person who had those eyes.
"Oh, my god…" I breathe. He turns to me and smiles "Hi, mom."
My brain cannot process any words. Mom.
"Hi…" I manage to say.
"Don't worry. Pete's my dad."
"You call him Pete?"
"No. I call him 'dad'. But it just wouldn't make any sense if I say 'Dad's my dad.'"
"I guess not."
"Has he asked you moved in together?"
"Yes."
"Okay. Has he asked you to marry him yet? Now that you're living together?"
"No."
He takes time to think. "Oh, right…you can't be pregnant yet."
"I get pregnant?" that's a stupid question to ask your future son.
"Yes. Then he'll ask you to marry him, and you should say yes."
"But we don't…Should you be telling me this?"
"Yeah. You told me too. I came a little earlier though. It's still kinda hard to get the time right."
I try to absorb everything he's telling me "But…?"
"Just say yes. To make him happy. You don't get married."
It's said in such a matter of fact way it scares me.
"Do I…" Do I want to know? Yes. "Do I die?"
He scratches his eyes "No. You're just not there…anywhere." What does that mean? How can I person not be anywhere? This new thought…this future of mine, it scared me. It didn't make sense.
"What?"
"I don't know how to explain it. Dad comes home one day and you're gone. And nobody knows where you are. You're sort of lost in time, kinda. You left when you were 5 months pregnant with me. And I think…I dunno there was a glitch because of that. Anyway, I was born pre-mature, a month after you left. I see you sometimes, you're constantly traveling. Constantly. Last time I saw you was a week ago in my time and you asked me to come here and tell you. And…here I am."
It's too much to process "Oh, god…"
"I know…" he looks away suddenly "I want to tell you more…really…explain it…" He reaches out and takes my hand, I can see his slowly fading, dissolving. "I love you." He says.
"Wait! Wait. What's your name?" He opens his mouth to answer. But then I'm facing a pile of clothes. I take several minutes to breathe through everything I just heard. There's a name and address sewn onto the jacket, so I take the clothes, fold them and place them in one of the grocery bags. I then make my way to the listed building and drop them off with the door man saying I found them lying in the street. He assures me that the boy would get his clothes back. My son was right. The kid was rich. My son. He had a face, but no name. That scared me. It scared me a lot.
New chapter:D Yay. I'm hoping to update my sometime next week:)
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_cole_
