One Life To Live

Finals were Tuesday and Wednesday this week.

So, because I was expecting that Bethany Lynn and I were going to be up till 3 o’clock studying tomorrow, I was on my way to the local convenience store for the basics – coffee [lots of it], sleeping pills [I know it’s not good to say this, but when we’re staying up that late, we need to guarantee we’re going to get sleep that night], and snackable treats [it’s not like we’re going to be up making ourselves meals]. I turned on the radio to the only country station I knew of in New York City, and heard Jerrod Niemann’s ‘What Do You Want’. I sighed in frustration, and clicked on to another station because that song just hit a little too close to home. I settled for the classic rock station which featured Queen.

I stopped at a red, and leaned back in my chair. It seemed like when everything went wrong, they went wrong all at once. I was barely hanging on to an A in my medical class because our teacher thought it was funny to spring a pop quiz on us this week, and if I didn’t keep my straight A’s I’d have to pay more money. Seeing as I didn’t have any more money to supply anywhere else in my slim-to-none bank account, this could be a problem. Not only that, but my boss demoted me from the cashier to stacking books on shelves because I was late to work two days in a row this week, and one day last week. All this was happening when I still on the fritz of a terrible break up.

I ran a hand through my wavy blonde hair that I spend ten minutes at the most on today. At this point, I was so stressed it felt like I was running on E. Every time I’d get my energy up about a test, and studied so hard for it – it would come back with a grade I didn’t want. Or when I tried to get to work twenty minutes early, I get stuck in traffic, and then I would find out my clock was 5 minutes late. ‘They’re just a bunch of excuses,’ my boss Henry would say. Perhaps he was right, and they sounded a lot like a bunch of BS. I just felt like not trying anymore.

I knew that was the wrong attitude to have, however. I’ve experienced tough times in the past that were even worse than any of this, but somehow…that didn’t matter. I was terribly vulnerable at this point, and I hated being weak all the time. The light went from yellow, to green, and I punched my car forward blowing past the others who were casting irritated glances at me in my rearview mirror. I fishtailed into the CVS pharmacy and slid into the narrow parking space. The lot was almost filled – but then I remembered that most people parked here on weekdays when they were working. They didn’t need to pay for it, and being a bargainer for quite some time, it sounded like a pretty good deal. My door ajar, I stepped out in my purple Nike tennis shoes with sweatpants, and a Reebok sweatshirt – I was mixing it up today, apparently.

I approached the sliding glass doors, and they opened automatically for me. The cashier, Maia, was there as usual – a petite, cute Asian girl that always smiled at me in welcome. I waved at her, and she perked up, “Hi Melanie,” she smiled.

“Hey there, Mai,” I greeted her. We striked up a nice friendship when I kept coming here for groceries – mostly because they were the cheapest in town. She knew the basics about me – I moved here from Minnesota, and got into NYU from scholarship. She had said to me that she thought I was an inspiration. ‘Living the New York dream’, as she put it. I’d laughed, and responded saying, “It doesn’t feel too much like a dream right now.” That was back when I was only here with six months under my belt. It was all so overwhelming to me – the bills, the school, the rec basketball team I used to play on, the work at the bookstore. I didn’t really have much breathing room.

Now, I smiled back at her, “Busy day, today?”

She shrugged, and grinned, “Not too bad. You came when things were getting pretty dull.”

I laughed. “Lucky me. I was preparing to bust through here with my battering ram.”

She giggled freely. “Oh, yeah. These New Yorkers are feisty.”

I winked, “Don’t I know that.” I heard her chuckling in the background as I turned and looked for Aisle 3 – it was a depressing prospect that I knew the aisles by number, but at least I didn’t have to waste time. I passed by the first aisle – people watching, as always. There was a graying old woman looking at insertable foot soles, and a teenage boy in the second aisle looking at condoms – I had to raise my eyebrows at that one. He shot me a suggestive look, and I laughed, shaking my head. He aimed a pouty face at me, jutting his lower lip out. With an amused smile on my face, I passed by him so that he got my answer to that one.

Finally reaching the third aisle, I tapped my chin in thought. I closed my gaze on a box of Amos cookies, and I reluctantly decided not to get them. Instead, I went to the freezer door to pluck out a tray of raspberries. I ate them like candy, and I knew Bethany Lynn loved fruits as well. Next, I got a six pack case of Mountain Dew for Bethany Lynn and Dr. Pepper for me. That is about the only thing Bethany Lynn and I were opposites about. She loved her Dew and I couldn’t go a month without a can of Dr. P. I loved my brown pop.

Selecting a few other treats – mainly consisting of various chips, Colombian coffee, finger foods, and yes, ice cream – I crossed the aisle to go to the medication center at the back of the store. I was contemplating whether or not to just get Advil PM, acetaminophen, or just ibuprofen. As I curved the corner into the aisle, I gazed up and my heart dropped. A pair of illustrious green eyes stared up at me, and unconsciously, I dropped my Doritos and my Nilla Wafers.

Smooth, Melanie – just smooth.

My eyes widened, and as he approached me to help gather my stuff seeing as my hands were full, I hastily plopped to the ground and filled my arms with the bags. My hair swung into my face, and as I stood up, I eyed him slyly between my veil of hair. He was staring at me, and his mouth opened, then closed as if he was thinking of saying something to me.

“I – uh, well.” I gestured to the sleeping pills with my hand that he was covering with his body. “Oh,” he realized, moving out of my way. I came up to the shelf, and squinted my eyes to read the harshly small labels. I analyzed them, looking for the medication with the least possible side effects as I felt his heavy gaze on my back. I picked up one of the capsules, and as I swiveled it around. I noticed that it had the capability of inducing ulcers in the stomach. How nice. I put that one back, shaking my head in disbelief – that’s what you get for wanting to buy the cheap, generic brand. What the hell.

I settled for the mildly expensive Advil brand as I had originally had in mind, and my eyes settled back on Lance, who was standing off to the side. He finally spoke - his voice rough, “Pills?”

“Sleeping pills,” I clarified, “Bethany Lynn and I have finals on Wednesday.” I explained briefly, shrugging my shoulders.

“Ah,” he retorted, a bland look on his face. Feeling awkward, I spun on my heel to leave.

“Mel.” He said, stopping me in my tracks. I closed and opened my eyes, uttering a brief prayer to God – just being near him was antagonizing. He met my eyes with a dark intensity, and declared, “I have your purse in my car. I was going to drop it off.” His lips closed together in consternation, and he shrugged.

“Oh,” I replied – trying to sound nonchalant, “okay, then.” He followed me to the check out at the front of the store. I approached Maia, and her eyes zipped over to Lance who was closing in on me. She wagged her eyebrows, and winked at me. I shook my head, rolling my eyes. She sighed, and admired him a bit more before scanning my items and placing them in the bag to the right of her. Once she was done, she gave me 15% off – that was her routine with me, because she was a sweetheart and wanted to help me out with my bills. “$30.67, please.”

I cringed. That was still a high price, even with the discount. I sighed, and forked through my wallet, trying not to look too flustered. Lance placed a hand on my forearm, and I freezed, looking up at him. “I have it, Mel.” He pulled a fifty out of his pocket.

“No, I can-” I began to protest, but he shook his head at me, extending the bill towards Maia. She bit her lip in amusement, and took it from his hand, and ‘accidently’ brushed her fingers into his. She calculated the money back, and said, “$19.33 back, sir.”

“Keep the change,” he said absently, watching me in the corner of his eyes. I flushed, and concentrated my eyes on Maia, who spluttered, “Oh, ah, well are you sure?”

He nodded in affirmation, “Keep it.”

Disbelieving, she put the money on the counter beside her, saying, “Oh, okay. Well, t-thank you.” She handled the bags – four of them – and slid them across the counter to me. I took them before Lance could – I had a feeling that’s what he was going to do – and waved bye to Maia. She waved good-bye back to me, and gave me a thumbs up when Lance had his back turned. I walked through the exit entry way, and made a beeline for my car. I reached into my back pocket for my keys and hit the trunk open. I threw the bags into the back, and slammed the door shut. I spun around on my heel, and he proceeded to walk toward his shiny, black Cadillac that just looked like it had been taken through the carwash – getting the wax and vacuum job most likely.

He unlocked his car, and opened his driver side door to retrieve the lavender clasp I left at the Capra house at the dinner party two weeks ago. One question that stuck out in my mind was, why was he giving me it now? Two weeks later? Although, I was somewhat grateful for the time allotted that he waited because I don’t know if I would be mentally stable to talk to him after what happened. He took the small purse, and held it out for me. I took it, and said, “Thanks.”

He nodded, and tried to make eye contact with me like I knew he would try to, but I restrained myself and bid him good-bye, walking in the other direction holding myself together.

----------------------------

That night, when I got home, I opened my lavender clasp, and noticed I had my iPod stashed in the back of it, and it was out of its leather case. Did he look through it? Or did I have it that way when I put it in there? I was pretty sure it was the second. I mean, I didn’t think he would be one to look through my music. Whenever I went on dates with him, he hardly ever played music in the car – only on our first date. I winced. I’m so stupid. Why would I bring our dates up? I mentally scolded myself. Just tearing the wounds open, Mel…

As I dug through it, I also realized there was a folded up piece of paper just behind my lipstick tube. Lipstick…oh, God. I really didn’t want to remember what my thoughts were on that. But a piece of paper?

I unfolded it, and found a message written in ink pen: I really am sorry, Mel – you have no idea. I’ll love you forever.

My heart sank. I placed my head in my hands. Why. Why did he have to do this to me? Can’t he see I’m trying to move on? My head grew cloudy, and my eyesight started to haze. My tear ducts screamed as I tried to hold back the tears that were inevitably going to fall. My heart pounded in my chest, and I threw the scrap of paper onto the flow. I pushed everything over the edge – my clasp, my iPod, all of it. My breathing sped, and I glared at the objects strewn across the floor. I hated it. I hated all of it.

But what I hated most? What I hated most was the feeling of exultation when I read that he still loved me.

Damn it all to hell.