After We've Said Goodbye, chapter 6
Carolyn984@aol.com
"Look into my eyes, you will see
What you mean to me.
Search your heart, search your soul
When you find me there, you'll search no more. . ." –Bryan Adams
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It took us a decent amount of time to get to the beach off in the distance, but I would be lying to you if I said I didn't enjoy every second of it. Sure, it was past eleven o'clock, and sure, I was a little tired, but come on. What kind of loser would I be if I didn't drop everything and spend time with Jesse? What was I supposed to say? 'Oh, hey, about that nice romantic reunion you had planned tonight? Yeah, can I take a rain check? I'm kinda beat.'
No, that wouldn't be *too* pathetic.
And before you get on my case about possibly skipping class, let me just inform you that I have not missed one class this whole semester. Not *one*.
Well, unless you count that time the first week of the semester when I didn't go to my Freshman Seminar class because I forgot to write it down on my little schedule calendar that I had tacked to the board by my desk. . . but that really wasn't my fault. I had every intention of going. . . it's just that, well, I didn't know I even *had* the class to begin with. It was a last-minute addition to my schedule, and since everything here is done online, I didn't know it was added automatically by my advisor until a week later when I checked. Besides, I had some official mediating business to attend to.
Otherwise, I'm sure I would have gone and listened to my professor drone on about the importance of getting involved in the campus community and making an effort to meet people. Really. Although I honestly don't think I need to hear any lecture of that variety. I never have trouble meeting people. Not dead ones, anyway. They always seem to find me—usually when I am sleeping, or out running, or watching Rich Girls, or doing something else that I'd rather not be disturbed while doing.
Now, if they *all* decided to interrupt while in the middle of typing a math history essay, I think I would be willing to make amends with the general population of the undead.
However, there was only one member of the undead with whom I was interested in making amends on this particular evening, and he was standing right next to me. We walked out onto the pier, the dark night sky illuminated by the thousands of tiny silver stars and huge bright moon overhead, casting a golden glow over the indigo ocean in front of us. The Pacific breeze tickled my skin, too warm to make me shiver, but just cool enough to make me wish I brought my NoCal hoodie, which was uselessly lying on my bed. I guess I should've thought this through a little better, but hey, it's not like I was planning on Jesse suddenly reappearing into my life. I was quite comfortable in my room in my slim black tank top and blue Z Cavaricci capris, thankyouverymuch.
"So," Jesse continued. Apparently he was saying something, but to be honest, I don't remember what it was. We really weren't saying anything too important on the whole trip down to the beach; I think we both made a conscious effort to stay away from heavy topics, for each other's sake, considering the sob-fest on the balcony earlier. "How is school?"
School, schmool. Let's get to the kissing already!
"It's all right," was what I said. "Just swell. You know, boring classes, a bunch of people I don't know, and oh yeah, a roommate. Glorious."
Jesse grinned, the moonlight playing around the creases the smile made. "Well, surely having a roommate isn't all that bad," he teased. "It isn't like you don't have experience."
"Well, I guess there are some benefits," I began, "to having a female roommate. I mean, at least she returns my CDs when she borrows them," Jesse looked mock-offended by this, "and it's almost like having two wardrobes. I couldn't exactly borrow your stuff. I don't think it would be smiled upon if I went walking around in an invisible shirt."
He laughed. "Probably not."
A moment of silence passed between us, and Jesse took advantage of it by lifting his arm, which was resting on the ledge of the pier, and taking my chin gently in his hand. Emerald green met chocolate brown in an impassioned locking of gazes as we stared into each other's eyes in anticipation. My heart rate sped up considerably.
I guess, looking back at it now, I could have prevented what was about to happen, but couldn't you see I was kind of trapped in a very happy moment, about to kiss the lips I've been missing for over six months? It's not my fault I didn't hear the ghostly footsteps hammering down the wood planks of the pier.
And it's equally not my fault that I couldn't stop myself from toppling over the edge when whoever owned those angry footsteps decided it would be a good idea to push me in.
I tell you, sometimes being a mediator isn't all it's cracked up to be.
----------------------------------
Yes, it was short, but don't worry—the next few chapters are done, and long!
Carolyn984@aol.com
Carolyn984@aol.com
"Look into my eyes, you will see
What you mean to me.
Search your heart, search your soul
When you find me there, you'll search no more. . ." –Bryan Adams
----------------------------------------------------------
It took us a decent amount of time to get to the beach off in the distance, but I would be lying to you if I said I didn't enjoy every second of it. Sure, it was past eleven o'clock, and sure, I was a little tired, but come on. What kind of loser would I be if I didn't drop everything and spend time with Jesse? What was I supposed to say? 'Oh, hey, about that nice romantic reunion you had planned tonight? Yeah, can I take a rain check? I'm kinda beat.'
No, that wouldn't be *too* pathetic.
And before you get on my case about possibly skipping class, let me just inform you that I have not missed one class this whole semester. Not *one*.
Well, unless you count that time the first week of the semester when I didn't go to my Freshman Seminar class because I forgot to write it down on my little schedule calendar that I had tacked to the board by my desk. . . but that really wasn't my fault. I had every intention of going. . . it's just that, well, I didn't know I even *had* the class to begin with. It was a last-minute addition to my schedule, and since everything here is done online, I didn't know it was added automatically by my advisor until a week later when I checked. Besides, I had some official mediating business to attend to.
Otherwise, I'm sure I would have gone and listened to my professor drone on about the importance of getting involved in the campus community and making an effort to meet people. Really. Although I honestly don't think I need to hear any lecture of that variety. I never have trouble meeting people. Not dead ones, anyway. They always seem to find me—usually when I am sleeping, or out running, or watching Rich Girls, or doing something else that I'd rather not be disturbed while doing.
Now, if they *all* decided to interrupt while in the middle of typing a math history essay, I think I would be willing to make amends with the general population of the undead.
However, there was only one member of the undead with whom I was interested in making amends on this particular evening, and he was standing right next to me. We walked out onto the pier, the dark night sky illuminated by the thousands of tiny silver stars and huge bright moon overhead, casting a golden glow over the indigo ocean in front of us. The Pacific breeze tickled my skin, too warm to make me shiver, but just cool enough to make me wish I brought my NoCal hoodie, which was uselessly lying on my bed. I guess I should've thought this through a little better, but hey, it's not like I was planning on Jesse suddenly reappearing into my life. I was quite comfortable in my room in my slim black tank top and blue Z Cavaricci capris, thankyouverymuch.
"So," Jesse continued. Apparently he was saying something, but to be honest, I don't remember what it was. We really weren't saying anything too important on the whole trip down to the beach; I think we both made a conscious effort to stay away from heavy topics, for each other's sake, considering the sob-fest on the balcony earlier. "How is school?"
School, schmool. Let's get to the kissing already!
"It's all right," was what I said. "Just swell. You know, boring classes, a bunch of people I don't know, and oh yeah, a roommate. Glorious."
Jesse grinned, the moonlight playing around the creases the smile made. "Well, surely having a roommate isn't all that bad," he teased. "It isn't like you don't have experience."
"Well, I guess there are some benefits," I began, "to having a female roommate. I mean, at least she returns my CDs when she borrows them," Jesse looked mock-offended by this, "and it's almost like having two wardrobes. I couldn't exactly borrow your stuff. I don't think it would be smiled upon if I went walking around in an invisible shirt."
He laughed. "Probably not."
A moment of silence passed between us, and Jesse took advantage of it by lifting his arm, which was resting on the ledge of the pier, and taking my chin gently in his hand. Emerald green met chocolate brown in an impassioned locking of gazes as we stared into each other's eyes in anticipation. My heart rate sped up considerably.
I guess, looking back at it now, I could have prevented what was about to happen, but couldn't you see I was kind of trapped in a very happy moment, about to kiss the lips I've been missing for over six months? It's not my fault I didn't hear the ghostly footsteps hammering down the wood planks of the pier.
And it's equally not my fault that I couldn't stop myself from toppling over the edge when whoever owned those angry footsteps decided it would be a good idea to push me in.
I tell you, sometimes being a mediator isn't all it's cracked up to be.
----------------------------------
Yes, it was short, but don't worry—the next few chapters are done, and long!
Carolyn984@aol.com