Reunited
1
He watched as she scribbled a number onto the inside flap of a matchbook cover. The words 'a tattoo' marked the side of her left hand in perfect handwriting. He knew there was a meaning behind such a pointless tattoo, but he didn't know what it was.
He studied the girl in front of him. Her red hair was pulled into a ponytail. Her brown eyes were outlined in dark eyeliner and highlighted with a simple stroke of mascara. Vibrant yellow earrings graced her ears. Her left ear held an industrial piecing, while her right held a tragus piercing. As he investigated her deep red lips, he found evidence that she had once had another piercing.
The girl seemed familiar, as if they had already met, but he was unable to put a name to her beautiful face. There was something about her that reminded him of his best friend in high school, but he was almost certain it wasn't her. They hadn't seen or talked to each other in at least four years, which he regretted daily.
She glanced up from the matchbook and noticed him watching her. She knew exactly who he was. Most people in this city did, but not for the same reason as her. She looked back down at the matchbook and smiled. He hadn't changed much; maybe a little taller than she remembered. His brown hair was still short and styled the same way. The small gap in his teeth still stood out when he smiled. His blue eyes still shined, revealing his happiness.
Before handing him the matchbook, she tore a match from inside and pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. She offered him one last smile before turning toward the door and starting across the room.
She pushed the door open and leaned against the brick wall of the club. She lit a cigarette and held it in between her fingers. The door opened as she slid the pack back into her pocket.
"You smoke?" She heard him ask.
She shook her head. "I can't stand smoking."
"Yet here you are holding a lit cigarette."
"Would you like it?" She looked over at him, hoping he would say no. She knew he wasn't keen on smoking.
"I don't smoke."
"Fair enough." She held her arm out and let the cigarette fall to the ground before stepping on it.
They stood in silence as a light breeze brushed past. She felt a shiver run through her body.
"I've never seen you around here before." His voice broke the silence.
"I don't come around often." She knew that wasn't the answer he was looking for, but it would have to do.
He shifted beside her, trying to decide his next move. He wanted to know who she was and where she was from, but knew better than to ask a total stranger such questions.
"Would you like to go back inside?"
Once again, she shook her head and walked to the edge of the sidewalk to hail a cab. "I have to head out; I have an early flight tomorrow."
"Where are you going?" He asked, opening the cab door for her.
"Home."
He studied the girl in front of him. Her red hair was pulled into a ponytail. Her brown eyes were outlined in dark eyeliner and highlighted with a simple stroke of mascara. Vibrant yellow earrings graced her ears. Her left ear held an industrial piecing, while her right held a tragus piercing. As he investigated her deep red lips, he found evidence that she had once had another piercing.
The girl seemed familiar, as if they had already met, but he was unable to put a name to her beautiful face. There was something about her that reminded him of his best friend in high school, but he was almost certain it wasn't her. They hadn't seen or talked to each other in at least four years, which he regretted daily.
She glanced up from the matchbook and noticed him watching her. She knew exactly who he was. Most people in this city did, but not for the same reason as her. She looked back down at the matchbook and smiled. He hadn't changed much; maybe a little taller than she remembered. His brown hair was still short and styled the same way. The small gap in his teeth still stood out when he smiled. His blue eyes still shined, revealing his happiness.
Before handing him the matchbook, she tore a match from inside and pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. She offered him one last smile before turning toward the door and starting across the room.
She pushed the door open and leaned against the brick wall of the club. She lit a cigarette and held it in between her fingers. The door opened as she slid the pack back into her pocket.
"You smoke?" She heard him ask.
She shook her head. "I can't stand smoking."
"Yet here you are holding a lit cigarette."
"Would you like it?" She looked over at him, hoping he would say no. She knew he wasn't keen on smoking.
"I don't smoke."
"Fair enough." She held her arm out and let the cigarette fall to the ground before stepping on it.
They stood in silence as a light breeze brushed past. She felt a shiver run through her body.
"I've never seen you around here before." His voice broke the silence.
"I don't come around often." She knew that wasn't the answer he was looking for, but it would have to do.
He shifted beside her, trying to decide his next move. He wanted to know who she was and where she was from, but knew better than to ask a total stranger such questions.
"Would you like to go back inside?"
Once again, she shook her head and walked to the edge of the sidewalk to hail a cab. "I have to head out; I have an early flight tomorrow."
"Where are you going?" He asked, opening the cab door for her.
"Home."