Watching them, laughing and drinking with their friends, I suddenly wonder if I'm not the stupid one. I want to be a writer, yes, but working as an English teacher is not really getting me any closer to achieving that dream.
I am not a very good teacher. I will be the first one to admit that. I'm not very patient or very interested in teenagers. I find the job tedious and difficult, at best. It is absolutely awful, at worst.
I wish more than anything that I could be one of those inspiring teachers that they make movies about, the ones that change lives, but I just can't put 100% of me into that.
No, my passions lie elsewhere and the reason I got that job is that it was the only one I got offered after graduation. But now I wonder if I have made a mistake. Perhaps these assholes and my friend Taylor, an aspiring asshole, have figured something out about life that I haven’t. Also, I wonder if Mr. Madsen would be having his little talk with me and warning me about dating Mr. Tate’s daughter if I were one of these guys.
When the guys finish two rounds of beer and all of their fries and they are just about to leave, a group of girls comes in.
At first, I don't see her.
She's walking behind her friends, with her head hanging low. They grab a table not too far away from the bar and Ellis Holte, the tall one, waves me over. I hand them each a menu and take their drink orders.
When I try to make eye contact with Aurora, she looks away. I am not sure how much her friends know or don't know about what happened last night. A big part of me wants to tell all of them, but I know better and keep my mouth shut. If Aurora doesn't want anyone to know, that’s fine by me.
The guys at the bar are quick to make their move. They grab seats nearby, pushing the tables together. When I come back with the drinks, Connor has his arm around Aurora. Instead of shoving him away, she lets him rest there. Leaning in, his face is only a few inches away from hers. When he makes a joke, she laughs along with him and I clench my fists.
“Can I take your order?” I ask her, clearing my throat.
When she looks up at me, she pulls away from Connor, but only a little bit, as if she had not let him drape all over her.
I feel like a fool. An idiot! This is probably her boyfriend.
I can't believe that I let myself catch all of these feelings for her when, in reality, we just went out on one date and I know practically nothing about her real life.
Yes, we shared a few jokes and laughs, but so what?
Yes, she slept with me and had breakfast with my mother, but that doesn’t have to mean anything, right?
Maybe she just wanted to slum it for a night. I thought they were assholes, but maybe it was me who is the asshole for thinking that I ever stood a chance.
When I take her order, I keep trying to make eye contact, but it's all to no avail. She acts like she doesn't know me. Her demeanor is polite and professional but cold and distant.
We are strangers as far as she is concerned.
And this guy Connor? He is someone who is clearly significant in her life.
After putting in all of their orders, I take my position behind the bar and try to steel myself. I've had plenty of one-night stands and this one should be no different. She's just a girl. Just because you connected with her over some unheard of twentieth century short story writer, doesn't mean that she is actually interested in you.
Twenty minutes later, when the food is ready, I deliver it with a newfound coldness and professionalism.
I don’t search her face to meet her eyes.
I'm no longer waiting for an inkling of affection.
And I am certainly not waiting for an introduction to her friends.
If she wants to pretend like she doesn't know me then that's perfectly fine. The truth is that I don’t know her. A few personal nuggets does not make for a connection.
Connor covers the bill and pays the additional twenty percent in tip. They all take off together, leaving me alone in the dining room.
About an hour later, I receive the first text. It's from Aurora.
I am so, so sorry, she writes. I had no idea that we were coming here until after Ellis suggested it and I couldn't get out of it.
You coming here is not the fucking problem, I want to write back.
Connor, the guy that was all over me, is my ex-boyfriend and we have a very complicated relationship. I don't wanna go into it over text, I just want to apologize for being such a dick in there.
I shake my head and put my phone down. I don't have the energy to deal with this. Only a few moments ago, I was so ready to write her off, but now my certainty is wavering.
But her texts keep coming and coming. She apologizes over and over again and then asks where I am.
She says that she knows that I'm still at work because she just called the front desk and asked and wonders why I'm not writing her back.
I guess I can assume that you're really mad at me, but please don't be. Please let me explain. I'm sorry.
I don't write back. This was all a terrible mistake. We live in worlds that are just too different and it's not worth trying to intermingle them.
She continues to blow up my phone.
I pick it up and run my fingers over the screen. I click on the text string. I stare at the blinker.
Please stop, I write.
9
Aurora
I don't know why I agreed to go to that stupid yacht club, but I regret it as soon as I see him. It wasn't that I was embarrassed that I had gone out with Henry; he is very cute and charming and attractive. But Connor was there and, when Connor is somewhere, everything is a lot more complicated.
Connor is my ex-boyfriend but it's more complicated than that. We were good friends at first. Then we started sleeping together casually then dating then we reversed back to something more casual eventually breaking up without actually breaking up. Ostensibly, we are still good friends except that I can’t stand the sight of him.
The reason I ignore Henry? I don’t want to give Connor a target.
I text Henry as soon as Connor and his friends leave, but he doesn't get back to me. I know that he is angry. I text him some more. I apologize profusely, but I still hear crickets.
We only had one date.
Yes, it was magical and beautiful, but what the hell does he expect from me? He doesn't know how complicated my life can be.
He doesn't know anything about me, even though he thinks he does. The more time that passes with him not messaging me back, the angrier I get.
No one treats me like this. How dare he not respond?
I have already apologized, what more does he want?
The day fades into night and then becomes the next morning and the one after that. I send only one more text the following day and then I force myself to let it go. I deserve an answer and if he doesn't think that I do then he doesn't know the first thing about me. If he doesn't want to talk to me then he doesn't have to.
Later that week, Ellis invites me out with a guy she's been seeing. She says that she wants to introduce him to me, one of her best friends but, in reality, it's a blind date. She knows that I don't go out on blind dates but her boyfriend just happens to have a friend in town in need of entertainment on this particular night.
Ellis is almost a foot taller than I am with long lean legs that start somewhere near my shoulders. I'm exaggerating of course, but only a little bit. She spent many years dancing and as a result she knows her way around her body while I am still trying to get comfortable in mine.