Here Today

one/one

Lily hated it.

The feeling was the type that rushed over her, filling with her with a sense of dread that made her feel like pulling her hair out. When it first started, she brushed it off, proceeding on with her normal routine, until the heaviness became too much to bear. Then she shut down, going into panic mode; shutting down and shrinking away from anything that involved other humans. After awhile, she came to the conclusion that she was just antsy, and forced herself out of the house; riding her bike into the city or driving somewhere, trying to shake that feeling. It didn’t happen a lot in the beginning, occurring once in a span of three or four months. They were always far enough apart that she could deal with it without too much difficulty, though it always differed with the time of day. Sometimes, she would pace her room until an unreasonable hour or ‘go to the track,’ when she was actually driving in no particular direction. Other times, she would be struck in the middle of the day—during school or during work and she would take a moment to go to the bathroom and pace for awhile, calming herself, and then go back. She had this down to a science.

After a year or so, they became closer and closer together, forcing her to lose necessary hours of sleep or notes that she needed to pass a class. She got impatient with it, heaving a heavy sigh and pulling herself away, shrinking into herself. She could only imagine what her parents would do if they realized how many miles were on her car, or how much she spent on gas each month. It amazed her after awhile, especially when she started to notice how her finances were being cut in half by her car’s seemingly constant thirst for gas, and the fact that she usually ran the tank dry. During those times she would sometimes drive around in neighborhoods on the other side of town or, if it got particularly bad, into the city.

On one chilly autumn morning, after she had been driving for a total of four hours, she pulled into the parking lot of a Denny’s. After a minute or so of staring at the highway that rushed before her, she climbed out of the car and limped into the restaurant. She had hurt her leg during a pre-season soccer game the afternoon before and was feeling it then, suddenly. She winced as she followed the waitress to the table, sliding into the seat and forcing a smile up at her.

“Could I have a hot chocolate and a plate of fries?” Lily questioned once the waitress returned, holding the menu out unsteadily. She wasn’t hungry, but wanted to order something, even if it was French fries and hot chocolate. “Thanks.”

Across from her, five boys were sitting down, choking with laughter at a joke that one of them had told. Lily studied them for a moment and then looked out the window, looking at the dots of cars moving along the freeway. She wondered if they were like her, or if they were just early commuters. Either was a possibility, she figured, though she wasn’t sure if anyone else was quite like her. By that time, she felt calm enough to smile softly and relax into the seat, considering her chipped blue nail polish with a frown. She had painted them weeks before, and hadn’t been able to sit still long enough for them to dry, ruining them within minutes. For some reason, she hadn’t felt like taking the nail polish off, and then realized she probably never would.

The waitress placed the steaming hot chocolate in front of her with a smile, and, looking up, Lily caught the eye of one of the boys at the table. He smiled softly and then said something to one of the other boys, causing Lily to blush and look down at her drink. She cursed herself inwardly, and looked out the window again. There was a pause in the traffic for what seemed like a very long time, until one lone car tore down the highway, its blinker ticking as it switched from lane to lane. She wished that she was in that car; that she had somewhere to go after what she figured would be a very quick meal. As the car slowed at a red light, she slipped out of the booth to go to the bathroom.

The bathroom was messy and she grimaced, remembering her mother’s saying: “If the bathroom is dirty, you know what the kitchen looks like!” She prayed that it wasn’t true as she stared into the mirror, turning the knob to turn on the hot water. She had purplish shadows under her dark eyes, making her look unhappy and much older than she was. As she ran her hands under the warm water, she tried to flash a smile—her teeth were yellow with what she assumed was morning breath, or the lack of brushing her teeth before she went to bed. She pulled her hair out of the ponytail it was in and then put it back up, neater this time, with tentative hands.

The French fries were on the table when she got back. It was an enormous pile; for a moment she just stared at them in wonder and asked herself why she had even ordered them. She wasn’t hungry, after all. The ketchup was placed on the side of the table and she smothered the fries in them, taking a sip of her hot chocolate in satisfaction when she was done. She folded her legs up underneath as she started eating, looking out the window again. The flow of traffic had started up again, the lone car nowhere to be found.

Lily sighed and dipped her finger in the whipped cream on top of her hot chocolate, smiling at the childishness of it. She always did that—along with eating the homemade whipped cream that was always around her house by the spoonful, usually taking the bowl into her bedroom as she did her homework, along with strawberries or some other fruit. She hadn’t been called a glutton all those times for no reason, and she knew it.

“Can we borrow your ketchup?” One of the boys was standing above her, smiling casually. He motioned the glass bottle of Heinz, and then over his shoulder to the group of now staring, expectant boys.

She nodded and pushed it toward the edge of the table, watching as he loped back to the table with it in his hand, whining as another boy tugged it from his grasp. She rolled her eyes and looked out the window. She could see her car in the parking lot – A ’96 Corolla that had belonged to her brother before he went away to college. She had been sixteen then, two years ago.

Her hot chocolate had been drained, the pile of fries greatly diminished, and the check had been delivered by the time the ketchup was returned. She was slowly pulling money out of her jacket pocket when one of the boys came over, putting it on the table. Looking over, the rest of them were gone. He slid into the seat across from her and, holding out his hand, smiled and said, “I’m Garrett.”

She stared at his hand before putting a crumpled five on the table, shaking it gingerly, “Lily.” She went back to looking for money and, realizing that he was gazing intently at her, looked up and gave him a questioning look.

“Oh, um…” He paused and looked up, sighing heavily. “Are the fries good? I didn’t have any. Usually I do, but, um… I got breakfast instead. Since it’s, like, five in the morning.”

Lily’s eyes widened and she glanced outside, where she could see distant rays of sun coming up on the horizon. “Shit,” she muttered and closed her eyes tightly, then looked back at the boy, Garrett, who was giving her a strange look. “School. I have school at eight. Great.” She groaned into her hands.

“Hmm, that sucks,” Garrett commented, too cheerful, and then added, “Well, I mean…”

She stood up, throwing another five onto the table in the process. “I have to go. Nice meeting you, really.” As she started to walk away, he stood up and grabbed her arm, pulling her gently back toward him. Pausing, she stared at him, and he stared back. “I’m sorry, did you need something?” She whispered, and he shook his head.

A couple sitting at a nearby table gave them an odd look, and taking the incentive, Lily began to walk again.

“I… I was just wondering if I could have your number,” Garrett said quietly, feeling like a fool. “Like, maybe we could hang out sometime or something like that.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the floor, scuffing his sneaker slowly.

Lily paused and stared at him, and then held out her hand. The boy looked at her curiously. “Your phone,” She murmured and he brightened slightly, pulling his phone out of his pocket and placing it in her hand. She keyed her number in, smiled at him, and walked out the door, feeling much better.
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