Hi guys, 👋 welcome to Part Three — the penultimate episode — of my four-part weekly short fiction series. This series is all about celebrating our modern coming-of-age love, friendships, and other stories that happen along the journey. I hope you enjoy!
P.S. You can read Part One and Part Two here if you haven’t already.
Have a nice weekend, S
“I promise to build a new world for us too
With you in the middle”
— DJ Snake ft. Bipolar Sunshine, “Middle”
Part Three
“Ok, you have two seconds,” I said, chopsticks perched between my two fingers, ready to attack the steaming soup dumplings in front of us. Apparently they were the best in all of San Francisco.
“Ok, ok, almost done,” Matt said, laughing. He positioned his phone at another angle, tapped the screen to capture the dumplings, and looked up.
I rolled my eyes and smiled, as I picked up a big, sagging soup dumpling. It was the perfect temperature and flavor.
The dim lights from Dim Sum Castle cast a yellowish glow over Matt, who was wearing a simple navy t-shirt. The cool night air wafted in towards us as the door opened up with more hungry customers. As they walked in, the familiar clatter of silverware, laughter and waiters taking orders became more noticeable.
“Ok, so, I was thinking,” Matt said, finishing his beer. “If you’re not too tired yet, we could take a quick walk around the lake nearby. It’s beautiful at night.”
I looked at him, leaning my head on my hand, elbow perched on the table. I wanted to say that was a crazy idea, that it was already 10 pm and I had a redeye back to New York to catch in three hours. The fact that I was here eating dim sum was already probably a bad decision on my part, but, instead, what came out of my mouth was, “Sure. That sounds fun.”
Maybe it was the two glasses of soju I had.
Source: Pexels.com
After picking up the bill, Matt led the way out of the cramped restaurant and down an empty path where I saw in front of us the smooth glass of Lake Merritt. I stared at the small, unstoppable hazy lights from the buildings on the other side.
“So,” Matt said. “I noticed you had a small tattoo behind your right ear. What is it?”
I instinctively reached up and touched behind my ear. “Oh, yeah. It’s the Chinese character for ‘Spirit.’”
“Cool. Why’d you get it?”
“Oh,” I said, chuckling. I felt my face get warmer. “I was really close with my dad as a kid. He was always really busy, always going to these trade shows and conferences. So, I remember crying when he would leave for his next business trip and asking him to not go. And he’d say that his spirit would always be with me.” I paused. “Somehow that really comforted me.”
Matt nodded under the glow of the streetlights. “Wow, that’s really sweet. Are you guys still close?”
“No, he um,” I said, a knot in my throat. “He passed away a year ago.” I’ve told the story so many times but somehow my body couldn’t seem to erase that empty feeling in my stomach and the way my palms got really sweaty.
“I’m so sorry,” Matt said, looking at me. “I didn’t —”
“No, it’s fine,” I said back, forcing a smile. “Really, it’s totally fine. I don’t mind talking about it.” I hated this part.
Silence except for the sound of passing cars and our footsteps. As we got closer to the lake, the wind felt stronger against our bodies. I hugged my leather jacket tighter. It was a calming view of the city, which reminded me so much of bustling Manhattan during the day. We walked up and I leaned on the rail circling around the edge. The wind rustled my hair and kissed my cheeks. I breathed.
Then, I started crying.
Matt looked over and said, “Cass, I’m sorry. That —”
“No, it’s ok, sorry,” I said quickly, feeling silly for getting so emotional in front of him, whom I had only known for two weeks, and guilty for feeling like we were ending the night on a sad note. “I didn’t mean to start crying. I hate crying. And I mean, please don’t feel bad for asking. Like, I had the tattoo and so it’s natural anyone would ask.”
“Hey,” he said, taking my hand and pulling me to one of the flat metal benches around the lake. As he sat down, he held both my hands in his. “I just wanna let you know, you don’t have to apologize for feeling sad, or for anything.”
I nodded, smiling, and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. The truth was, I was scared. I wanted to tell him that I was scared. I wanted to tell him that I had no idea what I was doing in San Francisco. That I was getting tired of the back and forth, the anticipation, the rejections, the feeling that I was just shooting darts in the dark.
“I actually sort of have a tattoo, too,” Matt said.
My eyebrows shot up. “Really? What tattoo?” We had spent the whole afternoon and evening together, but I hadn’t noticed anything so far.
He put one hand on his stomach. “I have this massive scar on my stomach, actually. It was from this really bad car accident five years ago. I uh, was partying a lot more back in college, and my friend was driving us home after a long night out. The thing was, my friend was actually pretty tipsy. I couldn’t tell because I was too.”
He swallowed and paused for a moment. “Things just got really bad really soon and the next thing I knew, I found myself in the hospital. I couldn’t walk or eat solid foods for like three months.”
“Oh my god,” I said. “Matt, I’m so sorry.” The wind whistled softly between us.
“No, it’s okay,” he said, chuckling softly. “See, we’re both too polite. We don’t have to apologize so much. I mean, yeah it was hella scary at the time. I—I could’ve died.”
A sinking feeling in my stomach and my heart felt heavy. The thought flashed before my eyes and I shook it out of my head. “Oh my god,” I said, too stunned to think of anything else to say, as I felt my own worries melt away. I clenched his hands harder in mine.
“Yeah, so,” he sighed. He looked up, and under the moonlight, I saw his eyes sparkle. “Damn, sorry this is really heavy stuff. All that matters is that I’m alive. I’m healthy and okay, and you know, once you’ve gone through something like that, other things just don’t seem as bad.” He looked at me, a silly lopsided smile spreading on his face.
I nodded.
I honestly don’t know what it was. There was something about the way his eyes opened up. The way his shoulders tightened. The way his voice wavered at times when he spoke. The way he rubbed his chin instinctively when he was thinking.
Maybe there was something about hanging out with strangers for a whole day that made you comfortable sharing such personal stories with them. I sat there, looking into those big, brown eyes of his, wondering what was going on, what we even were to each other. Strangers who met randomly in a coffee shop? It felt more than that. Friends who would stay in touch? The way we held each other’s hands made me want to believe otherwise.
I wanted to ask him these questions but felt like deep down, I already knew the answer.
Because here we were, sitting on a bench in the middle of the night in San Francisco, talking about these sad, personal stories, which I shared with only my closest friends. He was a nice, laidback guy. He lived in San Francisco, literally on the opposite side of the country. And I was this restless redhead, still trying to figure it all out, a perfect storm. I lived in New York, with no serious intentions of moving any time soon.
I felt silly, all of a sudden, with my hands wrapped in his. Silly for taking a Monday off of work to interview at a tech company in an unfamiliar city, for a position I wasn’t sure I even liked. We were just sitting there, smiling at each other, enjoying our friendship? Presence? Romance? No, none of it made any sense. The only thing I was certain of was that I needed to call an Uber immediately and say goodbye.
I watched as Matt slowly leaned towards me, his eyelids closing. I opened my mouth to say something but then quickly closed it.
And then, I woke up.
Thanks so much to the friends who read drafts of this and gave feedback 🙏
Hey there! Thanks again for reading. Hit me up if you have any feedback or want to share anything. Otherwise, I’ll see you at next week’s post!
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