His Fingertips Have Memories
Mark O’Connell vs Bob Bryar
‘Come on Bryar, Get yourself together,’ he thought as he gently smacked his cheek. The lady next to him looked at him in an odd way. She then stood between Bob and her toddler, as if Bob was some crazy man ready to attack. He didn’t doubt that he was crazy, or close to it. Ever since Amy called, he had been going out of his mind. Bob took his hands out of pockets, they were sweaty. He wiped them on his shirt and checked his watch.
4 minutes until her plane lands. That was just unbelievable. Not a word in 2 years and now she was back. She was back in his life and he was thrilled (and nervous and worried and panicky and every other emotion, but mostly thrilled) about it. But would she be? She did call him before she called any of her other friends or her family. Bob couldn’t believe he was going to see her; he never thought she’d talk to him again. He took a deep breath and looked at his watch.
Any second now. He started to bounce on the balls of his feet like an idiot. Bob was too nervous to stand still. The mother took a step away from him; he smiled. He took slow deep breathes, he seriously was about to faint. Faint or throw up. He was deciding which would be more embarrassing until he heard a voice.
“HOLY SHIT! DUDE, LOOK WHO IT IS!”
Bob turned his head, ‘a famous person?’’ he thought. He paused, ‘Oh, right yeah that would be me.’ He usually found teenage boys screaming like little girls amusing, but he did not have time for this. Three boys came rushing over to him. They looked like children in a candy store. Bob gave a faint smile and a small wave, still facing the terminal gates.
“Can we have your autograph?!” squealed one boy as he shoved paper and a pen into his hand. Bob looked at his watch; her plane was 2 minutes late. Bob signed the papers and one boy was grinning so wide, Bob thought his face might break.
“I love you!” said the other boy, pointing to his shirt. He was wearing a My Chem shirt. Before Bob could say anything the boy hugged him. Several awkward seconds later the two other boys were clinging to him. The mother picked up her toddler (who was a little boy) and moved to the other side of the waiting area. Bob patted one boy on the back very awkwardly. Suddenly the boys let go, as if they just realized what a scene they were making.
“We’re okay,” they said, calmly. Bob nodded with embarrassment.
“Okay, so now that we’ve humiliated the shit out of ourselves, we’re going to go,” said the first boy. Bob waved goodbye. They walked away, but the boy who first hugged him turned around and yelled something about his pants. Practically the whole airport stared at him (at least it felt like it to him). Bob breathed deeply. He noticed that the boy who first noticed him was wearing a Taking Back Sunday shirt.
Flashback
‘My god. She is gorgeous,’ thought Bob, as he looked at her. She was lying down, and he was lying next to her, with his head propped up by his arm. His other hand was holding hers, their fingers intertwined.
“So, who is the best drummer ever?” asked Bob, staring into her eyes.
“Mark O’Connell,” said Amy, completely serious. Bob’s mouth dropped open (even though he knew she was joking).
“Mark O’Connell?” said Bob, acting offended.
“He’s the drummer for Taking Back Sunday.”
“Yes, I know who he is. Thank you,” said Bob, as he sat on top of her. He started tickling her stomach and neck. She broke out into hysterical laughter; Bob could listen to her laugh forever, music was his life, but her laughter would be enough.
“Take it back!” he said, grinning. Amy kept laughing. She tried to wiggle away, but his weight on top of her prevented her from any serious moving. He leaned down and whispered into her ear.
“Take it back my love,” he said. Amy flung her arms around his neck.
“Robert Nathanial Corey Bryar,” she said, looking into his eyes (he had stopped tickling her), you are the best.”
End of Flashback
He rubbed his face.
“Tough day?” asked an all too familiar voice. He removed his hands from his face one second and the next, she was in his arms.
“Amy,” he said.
“Bob,” she said, he could tell she was smiling.
4 minutes until her plane lands. That was just unbelievable. Not a word in 2 years and now she was back. She was back in his life and he was thrilled (and nervous and worried and panicky and every other emotion, but mostly thrilled) about it. But would she be? She did call him before she called any of her other friends or her family. Bob couldn’t believe he was going to see her; he never thought she’d talk to him again. He took a deep breath and looked at his watch.
Any second now. He started to bounce on the balls of his feet like an idiot. Bob was too nervous to stand still. The mother took a step away from him; he smiled. He took slow deep breathes, he seriously was about to faint. Faint or throw up. He was deciding which would be more embarrassing until he heard a voice.
“HOLY SHIT! DUDE, LOOK WHO IT IS!”
Bob turned his head, ‘a famous person?’’ he thought. He paused, ‘Oh, right yeah that would be me.’ He usually found teenage boys screaming like little girls amusing, but he did not have time for this. Three boys came rushing over to him. They looked like children in a candy store. Bob gave a faint smile and a small wave, still facing the terminal gates.
“Can we have your autograph?!” squealed one boy as he shoved paper and a pen into his hand. Bob looked at his watch; her plane was 2 minutes late. Bob signed the papers and one boy was grinning so wide, Bob thought his face might break.
“I love you!” said the other boy, pointing to his shirt. He was wearing a My Chem shirt. Before Bob could say anything the boy hugged him. Several awkward seconds later the two other boys were clinging to him. The mother picked up her toddler (who was a little boy) and moved to the other side of the waiting area. Bob patted one boy on the back very awkwardly. Suddenly the boys let go, as if they just realized what a scene they were making.
“We’re okay,” they said, calmly. Bob nodded with embarrassment.
“Okay, so now that we’ve humiliated the shit out of ourselves, we’re going to go,” said the first boy. Bob waved goodbye. They walked away, but the boy who first hugged him turned around and yelled something about his pants. Practically the whole airport stared at him (at least it felt like it to him). Bob breathed deeply. He noticed that the boy who first noticed him was wearing a Taking Back Sunday shirt.
Flashback
‘My god. She is gorgeous,’ thought Bob, as he looked at her. She was lying down, and he was lying next to her, with his head propped up by his arm. His other hand was holding hers, their fingers intertwined.
“So, who is the best drummer ever?” asked Bob, staring into her eyes.
“Mark O’Connell,” said Amy, completely serious. Bob’s mouth dropped open (even though he knew she was joking).
“Mark O’Connell?” said Bob, acting offended.
“He’s the drummer for Taking Back Sunday.”
“Yes, I know who he is. Thank you,” said Bob, as he sat on top of her. He started tickling her stomach and neck. She broke out into hysterical laughter; Bob could listen to her laugh forever, music was his life, but her laughter would be enough.
“Take it back!” he said, grinning. Amy kept laughing. She tried to wiggle away, but his weight on top of her prevented her from any serious moving. He leaned down and whispered into her ear.
“Take it back my love,” he said. Amy flung her arms around his neck.
“Robert Nathanial Corey Bryar,” she said, looking into his eyes (he had stopped tickling her), you are the best.”
End of Flashback
He rubbed his face.
“Tough day?” asked an all too familiar voice. He removed his hands from his face one second and the next, she was in his arms.
“Amy,” he said.
“Bob,” she said, he could tell she was smiling.
♠ ♠ ♠
woo, noone's going to be an asshole in this one :]comments? (not necessary, just check back for more)