Day 224

The line between them was theoretical and yet was still clearly obvious to anyone with eyes.

…

Jason was a good friend and a practical person. He had gone through school, achieved good academic grades, and got into the schools that he needed to achieve his lifelong ambition.

He never went outside of his comfort zone and didn’t need to. He had a guardian angel and providence on his side. His parents were predictable, his girlfriend was predictable, and his brothers and sisters were predictable.

His life was on the path.

The only thing about him that was not predictable, and the one thing I couldn’t fathom, was why he bothered to have me as a friend.

I was his absolute polar opposite.

…

“You’re wasting your time.”

It was another of those conversations over lunch, usually coffee and a cake in a café near the University, where it was more interesting to see the people who came there than those who turned up in the campus café.

I went there because Beatrice went there. I had run into her, literally on the first day, and she had made an indelible impression on me. Then, it just seemed that our paths crossed, at least once a week, sometimes twice.

“One day.”

He gave me another of those withering stares he usually saved for me when I was particularly obtuse, and I could tell he was formulating an insightful response.

“One day you will be in Uzbekistan, and she will be in Azerbaijan, and never the twain shall meet. You truly just don’t get it, do you?”

“I’m irrepressible, she said so.”

“In that one and only conversation that lasted all of ten seconds. She was being polite.”

I looked over to the table on the other side of the cafe, towards the back, by herself, every now and then looking up, towards the entrance, as if she was expecting someone to arrive. Like just then, a swish to brush the hair out of her eyes, a glance towards the door, a deep breath, then back to her studies.

It didn’t matter if I did or didn’t get it; Richie would never believe me. A year and a bit into the four-year degree cycle, I knew that the closest I would get to her was as far as I was away from her now.

We shared several lecture classes, and I had once almost sat next to her, but she had not noticed I existed. I had tried to speak to her, but something always came up: a phone call, a friend, another place to be.

“Well, I’m looking forward to going to Uzbekistan.”

He shook his head, just as his phone vibrated, an incoming message. He pulled the cell phone out of his bag and looked at it, then sighed. “Michelle is still free for Saturday night, and she is within your sphere. Mary wants to know if you’re back in the real world yet?”

Mary was Richie’s girlfriend, and Michelle was her friend, someone who was just like me, choosing people who would never give them a second look for whatever reason.

Richie knew, though, because he was practical. He had the uncanny knack of picking the partner of those he knew, with such alarming accuracy that it was scary. He hadn’t declared positively that Michelle was my perfect match, but it wouldn’t be long.

Another glance in Beatrice’s direction. I could not see what Richie could see, but perhaps that was because I was ‘blind’ to the reality.

There was a line between us, one that everyone else could see but I could not.

Of course, that didn’t mean that I could hope, one day she would notice me.

…

Everyone had a nemesis, that one person who was put on earth to make your life miserable. All through high school, that nemesis was Jacob. Doors opened when his parents pulled out their chequebook, doors that I could never pass through.

Which, in the end, I was happy about because he was going to a different university, one more prestigious, one that I could never afford. And one I didn’t have to travel to the other side of the country to attend.

But I never gave it a thought that one day, doors would close on him, that money could not make up for the fact that he was not as smart as he thought he was. Not until I saw him arrive one morning a month or so after the second year began.

His excuse? Circumstances dictated that he had to study closer to home. The truth? He had been booted out of his last university, and the one I attended was the only one that would take him.

A few days later, knowing he was looking for me, I went to the cafe and parked myself in the back, not far from where Beatrice usually sat. I could see why she was basically hidden from the front entrance, and she could see everything outside and inside.

And revelling in that thought, I looked up again to see her standing not far from me. It was a look that told me I was sitting in her seat, at her table, and she wasn’t happy.

I shrugged, got up and went to another table, not quite as anonymous, and one where just as I sat, Jacob arrived, saw me, and came straight over.

“I thought I’d find you here. Hiding away among the losers.”

“Doesn’t say much for you then.” He didn’t get the inference.

“I hear you’re struggling.”

I’m not sure how he could know that unless his father was on first-name terms with the Dean.

“I know you flunked out at your last university, and this is your last hope.”

That wiped the smirk off his face. He was going to give me one of his trademark put-downs, but noticed Beatrice instead. He had always considered himself God’s gift to women, and had a manner that reviled most whom he spoke to, but that didn’t mean he readily accepted they could not immediately fall in love with him.

It amused me that his prom date had agreed to go with him, allowed him to get her an expensive dress and accoutrements, and then left him standing at the front entrance waiting for her to never arrive. It was the best day of my life, as bad as that sounds.

“Excuse me,” he muttered as he got up and walked confidently over to her table.

I watched in utter fascination. I could, all of a sudden, see that line that Richie often spoke about.

At first, she didn’t bother to look at him, standing by her table. Waiting. Waiting for what? An invitation to sit? She would never give him, or anyone else, one.

He waited a minute, shifting impatiently from one foot to the other. Then, “Excuse me?”

She took a few seconds before lifting her head, then giving him her trademark death stare. “What did you do?”

He sucked in a breath. Annoyance. “I didn’t do anything. I thought I would introduce myself. Jacob Stawinski. Anything you want, anything you need, I’m your man.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “Yes. There is something I want.”

“Name it?”

“I want you to go away and never come back. Think you could do that for me?”

The expression on his face was priceless. For an egotist like him, that sort of rejection was poison. He didn’t look at her, he didn’t look around, he didn’t know what to do with himself, so he left, quickly, before anyone realised what had happened.

And, of course, in that short amount of time, I saw the truth of Richie’s statement. There was a line, invisible as it was, but as clear as day. That would have been me if I had tried as he had. She was simply here to learn and then go home.

I picked up my phone and dialled Richie’s number. When he answered, I said, “Tell Michelle I’ll be happy to take her to the party.

…

©  Charles Heath  2025