Behind
Song: Almost Lover by A Fine Frenzy
I sat down at an abandoned bench seat in the diner. Waitresses with permanent smiles shuffled from table to table carrying pens and steaming hot plates of food. A younger one, a girl of maybe sixteen, walked up to me. As soon as she looked up, I knew that she understood. Understood loving someone who will never love you back.
"Order?" she managed. I blinked. "Coffee, please."
She didn't say anything more. She was slender, and pretty, and heartbroken. Her shoes were ratty payless airwalk converse-style shoes, the laces frayed. It was a flash of unique in a floor full of glossy black heels clacking across the floor. Above my head, a fan lackidaisily blew wind down on me. It didn't feel real. Seated at the other tables were happy families, couples holding hands, and buisnessmen looking as if their world had fallen desolate. Maybe it had. But the clinking of spoons against plates, the slurps of straws stuck in kid-sized sodas, and the tinny voices of some singer over the radio felt insiginificant. I sighed and traced my finger over someone's initials carved on the table. Suddenly, a hot cup of steamy liquid was placed gently on an awaiting napkin. The girl was back. Looking into my eyes, she slid into the seat across from me.
"Who is she?" she asked. Her nametag read Lilac. A weird name, now that I think of it.
"Her name is Max." I said after clearing my throat. Lilac's eyes, a blend of purple and blue, stared out the window at the ceaseless rain. "His name was Devon." she said, by way of answer. The droplets of rain pattering against the window prompted us for more speech, more words.
"Did she-" Lilac stopped short, pushing a stray strand of blond behind her ear. A sprinkle of freckles adorned her nose, a button-like thing, petite and small. Her lips were a light pink, void of gloss or lipstick. Natural.
"What?" I asked. Lilac blushed.
"No, it's too personal."
"Go ahead." I offered.
"Did she love someone else?" Lilac finally inquired. I heaved a large breath, in and out. Steady. "Yes."
"Devon, too."
I let a moment of understanding flicker past us. It vanished into the night's endless reaches. I remembered the night that Max and I attended a prom, via legal interference by her mom. Max had slipped into a fitted white dress, the bottom touching the floor just barely. Her deep brown hair was cut in medium layers, splayed across her shoulders. The top of the dress had little gold and silver beads, the bottom was 'mermaid-style, ' (Nudge's words), flaring out.
She was breathtaking. But now everytime I think of that night, I think to myself: Was it all a lie? Was I nothing more than a distraction from the heartache?
With the final words spoken, I got up. Lilac returned to her job. As I took five steps toward the door, I cast one look back at her. Her eyes shimmered, and a tear slipped a while before being wiped away. I left. The day brought possibilities, chances, and lost feelings. I must leave behind all that had happened.
(A/N: food for thought. Does Dylan (I must leave behind all that had happened) mean Lilac... or Max? What do you think? Tell me in your review!)