Justin Delacroix felt very lucky today. It’d been forever since that feeling of sheer happiness had passed through him, leaving a rousing fluid in the joints of his body.
Out on the street, he was walking – better yet, gliding as if on ice – with jolly strides, and with Solene Greaves treading beside him.
And a half hour ago, they, along with a throng of fine people, had poured out of the Concordia Theatre like a colony of ants coming through a hole in a dome-shaped mound. Then, instead of going on their merry way, they had blathered about the show – titled Waiting for Godot – with a couple of college chaps they met earlier in the theatre.
Those guys in their checkered vests were kind of stupid; Justin thought the entire time, while feigning to participate in their pseudo-intellectual chatter. They were all a bunch of sophomores at the state university; Ivy Leaguers, as it turned out. They all tried very hard to impress this fact upon Solene, for obvious reasons, of course. That unnerved Justin, but at the same time, he felt sorry for them because they were really trying to play themselves up.
Their names? Justin had forgotten. As he tried to remember their names, he bumped into an old man and apologized. He was really lousy with names, and only a few people knew that about him. Anyway, Solene and he were currently walking downtown on a Saturday afternoon, so the streets were crowded from every possible angle.
At any rate, back to the Ivy Leaguers. Whatever their names were – Curtis something, something Elliot, and… and… the last one, the ginger one… whatever – they had all assumed that Justin and Solene were in college, too. Go figure why. Therefore, when those finely combed chaps asked what college they were going to, Justin lied before Solene could open her mouth. He said, just for the hell of it, that they were foreign exchange students from Paris, and that they were two months away from the end of their program. Right then, Solene shot him a quick sly glance and grinned. It wasn’t a, this-is-a good-one kind of grin, but rather the, let’s-see-where-this-thing-goes kind of grin. During the fleeting moment of their subconscious communion, Justin felt in his heart, the pounding pulse of love. There was no more doubt in his mind. Actually, there had never been any doubt. Solene Greaves was the one: his soul mate, his kindred spirit, the only love of his life. From then on, the Ivy Leaguers were quick to buy into the farce. Because Solene had one of those cool accented voices that suggested some overseas background. Plus, she easily spoke and understood French, not because she’d been there – though she’d once told Justin about pursuing college over there – but because she’d learned it in her leisure time, like a hobby or something. Justin only knew a word or two from his early French classes in fifth grade. However, he was confident in his ability to shoot the crap if the need arose.
Due to their fake European origins, the Ivy Leaguers seemed trice as enchanted with their new acquaintances. This gave Justin the idea to play the European card on any college boys he encountered in the future. That is, until he became one himself. As for Solene, she played her part flawlessly, even switching to French between phrases to add credibility to her character.
However, the ginger guy – he looked like a hearts and flowers kind of guy – began to become very familiar with Solene, as if her being from overseas was an open invitation to horn in on her. Jesus Christ! Justin swore in his throat while surveying his every move. The bastard was getting very familiar with her! Justin had heard from some elder lads how European girls were an easy catch. How they liked to go around and party till kingdom come. How they liked having one-night stands...
Jesus! That’s what those goddamned Ivy Leaguers were probably thinking now. And Solene, far from being moved, acted homey and friendly. Maybe, Justin thought again, he shouldn’t have said they were foreign exchange students. The two other guys were alright the whole time, a little too snobby perhaps, but at least they weren’t hitting on Solene. And if they were, they were very subtle about it, not like their friend who was going all out on her.
At one point, the ginger guy even got the nerve to pick at the floral pendant that hung around Solene’s neck. And he went all girly about it, saying how it was beautiful on her, and how he was glad to have found something nice he could buy and offer up to his mother for her upcoming birthday. Then, out of the blue, Solene told him that today was her birthday, and everybody laughed at the coincidence. Justin made himself laugh not to look like the party pooper.
Why on earth had she told him that? Didn’t she see what he was up to? He was so close to telling Solene, “Alright, I think we better split. Or we’re gonna be late…” But they hadn’t made any plans beyond the show. And besides, maybe she was genuinely warming to the flirting. Maybe the ginger was really having his way with her. Why wouldn’t he? He had good looks.
Finally, because they had hung outside the push-doors of the Concordia Theatre for nearly half an hour, the ginger asked them along to a party they were going to.
“It’s gonna be something big!” he emphasized.
Justin was one hundred percent sure he was only asking Solene, though. He now clearly hated the guts of that guy. Not because of how snide the phony was, but because it’d never crossed his stupid mind that Solene was perhaps his girlfriend, and that he was being inappropriate to Justin by trying to be seductive as hell right there in his face.
For all intents, Solene wasn’t his girlfriend. Yet. Well, not officially anyway… And Justin liked to think that way. But by coming onto her like that without even checking, that guy in his goddamned checkered vest assumed that she couldn’t possibly be with him.
But Solene politely turned down his invitation. She claimed they had some other place to be. And Justin’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.
So she had something in mind for them, after all.
Not accepting defeat easily, the ginger gallantly tried to have her reconsider. But Solene Greaves was the kind of girl whose “no” meant no, and not “maybe.” So as a consolation prize, he finagled her phone number, saying he knew some swell places in town, and he’d invite them both over for cocktails. He only meant her, of course.
When Solene agreed to give him her number, Justin’s face puckered in pain. Out of her lips rolled a string of ten digits that Justin immediately recognized as his own number. Again, she shot him that quick sly glance with the grin. And Justin understood she was pulling the leg of the ‘bastard.’
Shortly after, the little company disbanded, and Justin was done reminiscing by the time he and Solene reached 7th Avenue. They were walking side-by-side, not saying a word. But in his head, Justin was in the middle of a dialogue with himself. By negating the overtures of the ginger, Solene had voicelessly signified her preference for Justin. That alone – along with other similar mundane actions – was a good indication that perhaps she felt about him the same way he did about her. Now, he was feeling through his pants pocket for the little something he’d bought her for her birthday.
“Where are we going, anyway?” he asked, just to say something. He didn’t care much about where they were going, though.
“There’s a coffee shop down at the intersection. I heard they have a cool band.”
“Cool…”
Justin was looking for something bright to say. This was quite an unusual situation for the both of them. They had never been on a “date” before. Because that’s exactly what this was: a date. An informal date, perhaps, but a date nonetheless… It had to be a date. And Justin grinned broadly at the prospect of future exciting dates, then their first kiss… then the other kinds of kisses…and finally the other stuff…
“What’s so funny?” Solene asked, looking at him, almost grinning back.
“Oh, no –” Justin startled, as if caught red-handed in a cookie jar. “I was just thinking of something.”
“That was really nuts back there, that stuff about being foreign exchange students.”
“I was just punting.”
“You’re really nuts, Justin. And I like that.”
Justi
n would’ve taken this as another winning point. Instead, he blushed. He was nervous, even though he was endeavoring to appear normal. He was usually more composed around other girls. But this was Solene. And his mind was going blank.
“Why’d you give him my phone number?” Justin said.
“I didn’t want to give him mine,” Solene said simply. “You’d rather I gave him mine?”
“No –– He was full of himself.”
“I don’t think so. I thought he was cute.”
Justin looked at her while making a hole to allow a rotund passerby to walk through. He then shook his head. He didn’t know what she meant.
“What should I tell him when he calls?”
“What makes you think he’ll call?”
“Because he was full of himself.”
Solene’s eyes rose in a reflective way. Her lips curled. She said with humor, “Well if he does call, tell him I passed away. And that his call came in too late.”
“I might just tell him that!” Justin laughed, his gums showing above the tape of his white teeth. “That’s guaranteed to bake his noodle!”
She laughed heartily too, her hair frizzing out in the air. She had beautiful hair. It was piled atop her head like a sprawl of purple dusk atop a curvy valley. Justin’s eyes dropped to her dangling hand.
Hold her hand now… What’re you waiting for… an invitation?
“I always wanted to come down to this place,” Solene said as they were approaching the intersection, and the sign of the café was beginning to loom across a wall of porch roofs. “Every time I’m back in town, I always make plans to come here. And then, they fall apart.”
She’d crossed her arms across her flat chest, thus depriving Justin of a chance to act on his desire. “I hope it’s nice inside,” she said again.
Justin said something trite in response, rather displeased with himself and his lack of mojo. It wasn’t that hard to walk hand in hand with her, was it?
This moment right here was the direct outcome of the steps he’d taken since he fortuitously spotted her in her mother’s car, three days ago. She had returned home. So it was then or never. The day before, he’d staged a chance meeting with her. The first one in three months. And as was usually the case, they had thrown some banter around to warm up to each other’s presence again. It was awkward at first because their separation had been so long. But still, they had transitioned into their “hanging out” mode fairly well, and had chewed the fat some more. Afterwards, Justin had casually mentioned how it was lame that they never even called each other up on the phone to keep in touch. Solene agreed, and sincerely wondered why they’d never done that before.
“Force of habit.”
This had been her guess. And by the end of the day, it was decided to amend it. Phone calls and text messages were now to be used as means of communication. And though Justin had carte blanche to ring her up, he thought he needed a good reason to do so. The last thing he wanted was to come off as a tacky slob. And as he was racking his brain for reasons to call, Solene had phoned instead.
To sum up, they had talked about nothing really important. And remembering that Solene was well acquainted with Mr. Bagley, the old man from apartment 102, Justin had asked her whether she knew that he would be moving out of the condo soon. Solene had admitted she had no idea the old man was leaving. And she had lamented how his leaving would be a terrible loss for all, as she considered the old man to be the only person in this detestable condo who had a real love for humanity. Justin had laughed at her witty comment without really getting it too well. He too liked the old man very much. And the fact that he had that in common with Solene had pleased him. Solene had then thanked him for the heads-up about the old man’s imminent departure. And following that, they had both gravitated toward the idea of perhaps visiting him in his apartment. Again, the thought alone had very much pleased Justin, because it meant spending more time with Solene.
However, during their conversation, Solene had abruptly prompted him to, “Stop talking and just play along.”
“Play along with what?”
The question had gone unanswered; she was already busy doing her thing… giving him little room to think or make sense of why the hell she was doing it. So he had played along…
Gosh, he had realized right as he was playing along. And I thought I’d seen it all with her…This one really takes the cake.
By the time she explained the meaning of her antics, his brain had melted away to the point where he wasn’t sure how to take the whole affair of the crazy act she had just pulled on the phone.
Anyway, before hanging up, Solene had asked for his company on her birthday. And that’s how they had ended up going together to the Concordia Theatre... and that’s how they were now heading for a cup of coffee.
Chapter XI
BUDDING ROMANCE IN THE CAFE