EIGHT
The days withered by like floating petals of a lonesome flower. Charlie swam through them held up by his fantasies about the forthcoming dinner with the woman of his dreams. He couldn't help but think about the outfit and hairstyle of her choice, the restaurant to pick, the jokes to tell to win her smile. Midweek, he was in such high spirits it was impossible for the others to ignore it. He kept his mouth clamped, so they chased after Knox and Neil, who had a hard time dodging their ambushes. They gave up one by one, opting for a study group about Charlie's odd behavior instead. They couldn't come to a conclusion and decided to just wait for him to come out with one of his usual stunts. Only Todd, while helping his roommate rehearse for the Shakespearean play the latter was in, ended up speculating about some female-related issue: Neil confirmed, winking and chuckling, with no need to beg him to keep his mouth shut. He knew the shy boy would never betray a secret.
When Friday came, the two boys were overexcited. They incited and reassured each other before going to get ready. In their dorm rooms, Knox chose a more formal coat-and-tie attire, while Charlie put on his beige sweater.
"I thought you would have worn a tailcoat for your first evening out with your lady" Knox jested when they met up in the shared bathroom.
"She says she prefers me when I'm just being myself" Charlie stated while running a comb through his hair. Knox smirked, knotting his tie.
"I'm happy for you, man" he then said, looking at his best friend through the mirror. Charlie met his gaze and smiled back.
"Good luck, Knoxious."
Years later, Charlie would pick the moment he saw her that evening as the one he had understood he was nuts about her, if still in doubt. She was waiting for him on the sidewalk again, although he was early. And she was heavenly. She had a black A-line skirt and a pale pink boat-neck shirt, paired with her flats. Her hair was styled in a long braid resting on her left shoulder. He didn't remember any girl wearing her hair like that, but he was starting to get used to her nonconformity. And when he got close to her, putting her beret back where it belonged, her cheeks went pinkish, her eyes poured into his, her lips parted to show the tiny pearls of her teeth, and Charlie knew he was screwed. He hoped she could read on his face how beautiful she was, because his voice was out of order at the moment.
"Everything okay, ace?" she asked to play down, smoothing nonexistent creases on his shoulders.
"Sorry, I'm experiencing Stendhal's feelings" he joked, getting her first laugh. He then conjured a rose from behind his back, split its stem and tucked the flower in her braid beside her ear.
"Beauty deserves beauty" he explained meanwhile, enjoying her reaction. They got lost in each other's stare for a while, then he offered his arm – which she gladly accepted – and they headed together towards the boundless array of possibilities the unknown had in store for them.
"So, how was your week?" Charlie asked, finishing the champagne they had ordered as an appetizer.
They were in a rather fancy restaurant, built in red bricks and wooden columns. Round chandeliers hung above the customers, showering them with a honey light. Their table was the closest to the huge windows offering a breathtaking vista of the lake. October had fussed over the expensive choice, but Charlie had told her that was a special occasion and, besides, there was nothing bad in living the high life once in a while. He had been gentleman enough not to say he was filthy loaded – not that he cared – and, though his father was a prohibitionist jerk over an awful lot of things, he had oddly had no problem in opening a bank account for his son. Probably because that was easier than having the boy endlessly asking for money. Or maybe because the bank management was in his own hands. Who knew.
October told him about her days in the library and her weird hostess, while Charlie offered his review of a great lesson from Mr. Keating, who had made the students march in order to illustrate the point of conformity and the difficulty in maintaining their own beliefs in the face of others.
"He's a marvelous man" she stated, then cleared her throat. "I mean, I guess he is, isn't he?"
A waiter brought them steaks and salads. The couple toasted and sipped from their glasses of red wine before starting to eat.
"He's unique. I didn't believe someone like him could ever exist. But I guess, since the world is quite big, it would've been statistically impossible to have the same narrow minds all over the place."
October gave a strange smile.
"The world is in constant change like a river, Darlie. Society will change. Things are never the same for too long, the whole universe is based on this principle. You're not in a cage. You've just gotta have a different point of view on those things you see as walls."
Charlie stared at her for a while, intrigued.
"You know, you remind me of Mr. Keating. You're so different. You're a fighter, aren't ya? You don't like being chained up either."
October played with her food, taking her time to reply.
"Freedom is a thorny matter, difficult to define, and every human being has their own idea of it. For some, it could be about breaking rules, for others just about living in peace after their own demons' death. But in any case it's something to aim at. And that means you have to walk or even run to reach it. And this consequently means it's something set in the future, generally speaking: you know, if you have to move, you need time. But even specifically speaking: if you don't feel free in your present, you hope to be free in the future. Can you understand what I mean?"
Charlie studied her features before answering.
"Partially. There's something I can't get about you, I always have this kind of feeling."
She just smiled in silence, lowering her stare.
"There are things you're not telling me, right?" Charlie inquired.
October swallowed, took another sip of wine, then looked at him.
"Maybe. A couple of things. I don't…"
Charlie goggled, struck by a sudden thought.
"Shit, you're married."
October burst into laughter, the tension quickly dissolving.
"Good God, no!"
"Oh well, that's good. It would've been quite annoying to face your husband" Charlie jested, hiding his relief behind the joke, while October seemed unable to stop chortling. It took a while before she could regain her composure, an amused glint in her eyes. The boy smiled. Damn, how pretty she was.
"You don't have to tell me, if you don't feel like it."
She shook her head.
"It's just a weird situation I haven't figured out yet. Never mind, though."
"Okay, then. I just hope someday you'll trust me enough to vent."
She gave a sweet smile.
"All you need to know is that I feel so good right now and right here, with you."
For the first time in his life, Charlie felt his heart beat faster for a nameless brand new emotion triggered by a woman. It wasn't lust. It wasn't amusement. He was not used to it. He didn't know what to call it, but he liked it nonetheless. Mustering the courage, he slowly reached out on the white tablecloth to take her hand in his own.
"Me too."
One hour later, their fingers were still laced together as they were lazily strolling along the lake, which reverberated as covered in liquid silver glitter, playing with a frolicsome moonlight. The feeling caused by that simple touch was incredibly powerful: it was like sparks were sent from their pads up to the whole arm, reaching the core through their veins. And the sensation was even magnified after small gestures, like when he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, and she squeezed his fingers in return. Their skin felt pleasantly soft and warm, and the mere connection of their bodies – even through fingers only – meant they were a step closer to each other. The happiness they both felt thanks to that awareness was almost astounding. Their minds were racing, but the base of every thought was the contentment they were sharing at the moment, unbeknownst to each other.
"Is it hard for you to be here alone?" Charlie asked out of the blue, stealing her beret again and wearing it. October shrugged.
"My parents died long ago. They were only children as I am, and my grandparents were gone before my birth, so I have no relatives to miss. I had some neighbors I used to hang out with once in a while, but I wouldn't call them friends. So, no, the answer is no. But, you know, if you're able to be alone without going crazy, it means you're strong enough to survive almost anything and to live in harmony with others without relying on them."
That was another thing he liked about her. She was utterly independent, and that was so uncommon. It was like she needed no one to live her own life. No man to tell her what to think and say and do, not even to pay for her. She would have probably been happy to have dinner in a greasy spoon as well, though he believed she deserved the finest places. On the other hand, he didn't like the idea of her being alone, although she seemed comfortable on her own. It was not the right time to ask her but, probably, losing her parents had played a role in her life choices. She had undoubtedly suffered. How did it happen? How old was she? Had she frozen the world out as a consequence? And even so, everybody has a need for company, right?
"I hope that doesn't mean you don't want to meet new people" Charlie said, following his train of thought.
"Well, no, but… Why?"
Charlie stopped walking, keeping the grip on her hand, so that she had to turn around and face him in confusion. He pulled her, taking her other hand in his, blinding her with a broad smile. October felt her heart skip a beat. They were so close they could feel each other's breath tickling their lips.
"Because I'd like to introduce you to the guys."
A/N: Hi there ^^ A few notes for you...
Regarding Charlie's line I'm experimenting Stendhal's feelings, I chose not to use the common expression "Stendhal syndrome" because it was only named in the late seventies. But, since Stendhal was born in 1783, he could be known during 1959 anyway, assuming one is a connoisseur of art. (Yes, my Charlie is startlingly cultured ;p)
For the dinner setting, I searched for historic lakeside restaurants in Vermont. The one I got inspired by really exists, and it's Waterworks Food + Drink: as it turned out, it wasn't in business during 1959 but, by the time I learned that, I was already in love with it ^^
Last but not least... Any ideas about October's secret? Should be quite clear by now :p Feel free to express your opinion ^^