Beneath the Surface

When she had spotted Kitora in the big crowds of people, Maria started to run towards her, calling out her name. On the car ride to the reunion, Maria guessed at how Kitora would react to seeing her again. After all, Maria thought to herself, how else would you welcome your best friend than with a smile or a hug?

And so, she was completely and utterly shocked when she did get neither a smile nor a hug, but vomit dripping down the front of her dress. So shocked, in fact, that Maria could do nothing more than stare blankly at her friend as Kitora fled the building through the double doors behind her. It then took more than a few seconds after that to notice someone was trying to get her attention.

“…okay, Miss? Do you want this? You’re dipping all over the floor…” a voice said from the left of her.

“What?” Finally snapping out of her stupor, she turned her attention to a slim and tall man next to her.

He had dark hair and brown eyes. His skin was pale, but tan in contrast to Maria’s. He was wearing a black tux with a white under shirt. In his left hand was a roll of paper towel, presumably snatched from a table nearby.

“Do you want this, Miss?” He offered the paper towel roll.

“Um, yes. Thank you,” she said, glancing down at herself, before taking the roll. “Is there any place that I could…?”

“Freshen up?” he provided helpfully. “The bathrooms are over there,” he said, pointing.

“Thanks,” Maria said, but then hesitated, realizing something. “I don’t recognize you.”

“You probably didn’t have any classes with me in high school,” he answered.

She nodded thoughtfully before saying to him, “I’m Maria.”

“Mitch.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Um, Maria? I don’t think now is a good time to make small talk,” he said, looking at her ruined dress.

“Oh, right. Uh, I better go.”

He rolled his eyes, but smiled. “No duh.”

Walking away to find the bathroom Mitch had pointed out, Maria reflected on what just happened, her mind still jumbled with the past events.

Mitch. He seemed like a pretty nice guy—a good mix of kindness, humor and logic. Decent looking, too. Then again, he was probably debating her sanity right now. But something else was bothering her. The way that Mitch had acted while he was talking to Maria felt so familiar to her, like she knew someone like him. Who was it…?

Now arriving at the women’s pink restroom, Maria looked around for a mirror to check the state of her dress, although Maria didn’t have high hopes for it. Spotting a full length one, she started for it, only to stop short a few feet away.

As Maria had predicted, her dress was most likely ruined beyond any cleaning products known to man, but she wasn’t really interested in that. For upon looking in the mirror now, she was reminded of the person Mitch was so much like.

She stared at her reflection, realizing that she was avoiding something ever since she entered the building, hiding away from the pain she had tried to keep off of her mind, despite her surroundings. She probably would have succeeded, too, if it wasn’t for Mitch jogging her memory of the very same person she was trying to forget, if only for a night. Her brown hair and deep blue eyes. Her pale skin and straight nose. Her pointed chin and partially full lips. The answer to her question about whom Mitch reminded her of was in her features, as if literally written on her face.

Mitch reminded her of him.

Maria turned away from the mirror, trying to suppress the tears that threaten to spill over already. But, of course, she couldn’t suppress the memories. No one could escape the memories of someone who looked exactly like you, identical to you in every physical way, aside for difference in gender.

Shaking her head, she faced the mirror once more, strictly focusing on the mess down her front. She ripped off a piece of the paper towel roll and started cleaning up her dress. To keep her mind busy, she thought back to what happened before she met Mitch.

Oh, right. Kitora puking. How could she forget that?

Maria wasn’t really upset by the fact that Kitora had vomited on her. Sure, it was her favorite dress and it now had to be thrown out, but it was just a dress—it was easily replaceable. And anyway, Maria was the type of person to focus more why something turned out the way it did. It worried Maria faintly that Kitora had puked in the first place—was she sick? Does she need medical attention?—but something was eating at her even more.

Why did she run off?

Maria understood that she was more than likely embarrassed—after all, she had just puked on someone—but that someone was her best friend in high school. Shouldn’t she at least apologize?

Using up the rest of the piece of paper towel, she threw it in the trash bin before checking herself again in the mirror. She looked horrible, but at least she wasn’t dripping vomit all over the place anymore.

It will do for now, Maria thought to herself.

Gathering up her courage, she left the bathroom and headed for the double doors Kitora had exited the building through.

And found…nothing.

Of course, Maria thought, why would she stick around after THAT embarrassment?

Having pretty much accomplished nothing that night, and no longer having any desire to, Maria walked back to her car in the parking lot. But as she walked, a little voice seemed to whisper to her rhetorical question in her ear:

Because she was your friend, wasn’t she?