Year Two/York University – Two Years Ago
I met Mel in second year after I got banned from a campus bar for vaping in the establishment.
She was sitting on the wrought-iron stairwell when I stumbled out of the door.
“Pull your pants up,” she’d said to me.
My attention turned to the mysterious woman looming in the night. The fire from her cigarette was the only thing illuminating her features.
“Excuse me?” I addressed her.
“Your pants are halfway down your ass. Pull them up.”
I looked down, ready for a fight, ready to tell her she was wrong. Little did I know, she was right.
“How’d that even happen?”
“I’m not sharing my secrets with you,” I countered. There was a tinge of flirtation in my tone, completely unintentional.
She stepped out of the darkness, handing me a cigarette. I didn’t take it. I stared at her instead.
“Like what you see?” she asked, taking another drag.
Her hair was chopped just underneath her ears, dyed a merlot red with orange streaks. Dark bags swept the creases below her eyes, a splatter of freckles painting her face.
A silver chain dangled underneath a ripped cardigan, pink lace stockings to match the tank top beneath her shirt.
I’d never been more intrigued.
I’d never been more terrified.
“I have a girlfriend,” I admitted, thinking of Riley. Thinking about how poisonous it was to say that.
Seven months was a decent amount of time to sit on what she’d done. She suffered without me far too long. When she came crawling back, crying on my shoulder that she made a mistake, I was there for her.
I was doing her a favour. She needed me.
The stupid fuck who she fooled around with called her the night she rested in my arms again. Where she was meant to be. He went on some tangent about how he couldn’t live without her, how he never should’ve let her go.
I laughed. Did he not know she was on speaker? Was he not aware that she was nestled comfortably in the crook of my neck?
Everything I wanted was mine again. Riley, in some way, filled the void I’d been searching for. Maybe I wasn’t good enough to go pro in soccer, but I had my girl back. I coached scrimmages, played with my friends on the weekends. It was still my passion, even if it was no longer my dream.
I’d create a new one. I always do.
“Did I ask if you had a girlfriend?” She walked closer, her Doc Martins grazing my Nike’s. “I’m Mel.”
I scoffed, taking a step back. “Did I ask for your name?”
It was rude. It sounded rude. But I didn’t want her to think she had the upper hand. And just when I thought she’d walk away, she smiled.
“You and me,” she nudged my shoulder, “You and me are going to be friends.”
***
Year Four/Week Six– Present
I clicked speakerphone as I typed my message to Blu:
9:36pm – Jace: Better, yeah. Thanks for asking.
“I can’t believe she texted me back,” I released, hitting send. “I wouldn’t have texted me back.”
Mel was on the other line, outlining a commission piece for one of her clients. “I wouldn’t have either.”
“Hey, need I remind you that you approached me, Melinda.” I loved using her full name to get her heated.
“And I regret it every day.”
I chuckled, returning my attention to the bland text I just sent. “It was dry, wasn’t it?”
“Extremely.”
“Well, what should I say?”
“What do you want to say?” A second voice joined the call, addressing me with a high-pitched squeal. “Hi Jace!”
Mel’s girlfriend. “Hey Ellie, how goes it?”
“Good, good, love.” I heard a smooching sound and felt a rush of pride course through my veins. Mel deserved the happiness. She was one of the good ones.
“Sorry, Jace. Continue. What’d you say?”
“I didn’t say anything yet. I want to make it up to her, though.”
“Seriously?” Something clattered on the ground, followed by Mel’s hushed cursing. “Fuck.”
My fingers hovered over the keyboard. “Screw it, I’ll just say exactly that.”
9:37pm – Jace: Blu about the other night, really sorry again. Can I make it up to you?
“How do you seriously intend on making up for the fact that you ghosted this poor girl?”
Poor girl? She didn’t know even her. Maybe Blu was rich. Maybe she owned a boat, like Morris. Maybe she had a cottage in South Hampton, like Riley. All assumptions. All things I had to learn.
“I can invite her over.”
This, Mel laughed at. “To what? Fuck?”
I rolled my eyes. “No. Damn Mel, I thought you knew me better than that. I’m a nice guy.”
She sighed. “Be honest with me, Jace. What are your intentions with her?”
Being put on the spot was something I was never fond of. It was a weakness of mine, to think on my feet, to show emotion the second it came to me. What were my intentions? Did I even have any?
“Too early to say.” That was a safe response.
“In her mind, she’s probably went through a thousand routes.”
“That’s her mind, Mel, we aren’t the same. We think differently.”
“Maybe, but you’re like a hue of each other.”
I relaxed my neck against the pillow, taking Mel off speaker to concentrate on her words. She was always so insightful. She was the one girl outside of my family who actually gave a shit enough to prove her loyalty.
“Somehow, this girl got under your skin enough for you to tell me about her. Like, remember what happened the other day in class?”
When she put me in my place. Yeah, how could I forget. “What about it?”
“From what I gather, you two seem so similar but don’t want to admit it. That maybe, you both orbit around each other – a hue of something.”
She paused for a second, then screamed so loudly the phone almost knocked from my ear. “Wait! That’s such a good idea! Thank you Jace.”
A laugh bubbled from my throat. “Mel, did you take shrooms today?”
Silence.
Then laughter.
“How’d you know?”
We shared the glee, talking about her recent paintings and upcoming art show.
That’s when the idea hit me.
“Can I bring a plus-one?”
As if we shared the same brain, she responded, “I thought you’d never ask.”
9:45pm – Blu Henderson: What did you have in mind?
10:02pm – Jace: 1067 Goblet Street. Saturday @ 7pm. Wear something nice.
