Blind Fate

After an hour or so, Jake and Lycoris were leaving the coffee shop with an unspoken understanding: They would meet again. They would not tell anyone else.

There was a second understanding, however. One that neither would admit to themselves: It was a horrible idea. They would not simply remain friends.

Somehow, even with that knowledge buried deep in the center of her chest, Lycoris couldn’t make herself feel sorry as she hugged Jake goodbye for half a moment too long, her bag of books awkwardly hitting her side. She would feel sorry later. She would let that guilt wash over her next time she spoke to Hayden, but not right now. Right now she would feel herself pulled against Jake, his strong arms around her, making her feel safe in that instant as not even her father ever had. Her heart beat faster, a warm electric feeling jumping in her gut like there had been a shot of lightning in the coffee instead of espresso. That would also explain the flashes of light in Jake’s blue eyes as they pulled away. A piece of her mind, pushed as far away as possible, told her that anyone watching would see the palpable energy between them—the spark. She didn’t care. In fact, she wanted people to see it—their spark—she wanted to shove it in their faces and say, “See? This is right. We deserve this.” She wanted to keep it. Ly smiled at him and watched his lips curl in unplanned response. It wasn’t the sort of reflexive smile you tossed over your shoulder at someone who said “good morning” to you to be polite. It was the smile that unabashedly smears itself across your mouth when you see something that makes you happy. Something that gives you chills up your spine and makes it feel like your heart has suddenly outgrown your body.

For that moment, the world was right. It was a beautiful place where nothing could touch them. The universe had placed them in a glass jar to set aside and admire.

And then Jake’s smile faltered. And Ly knew exactly what he was thinking, because she was thinking it too. The guilt she had set aside for later was swimming up. It was growing like a tumor. It was wrapping around her heart—which had been blooming like a flower outside her chest—and stunting it, forcing it to retreat and shrink inside her ribcage again, to turn to stone.

Ly shoved the guilt down, swallowed it like a bitter pill, and wrestled her smile back. She knew anyone watching them now wouldn’t see any spark. They would see two uncomfortable adults who wanted to get away from each other. Maybe they wouldn’t see anyone at all—with their spark gone, there was nothing to see anymore. Bravely, Lycoris held Jake’s eyes and said goodbye, telling him to call her soon.

Despite their unspoken agreement, Ly wasn’t certain anymore that he would see her again. The realization made her smile even more strained as they both turned and walked in opposite directions—neither one really aiming for home, just distance. Jake was a good man, Ly knew. That was part of why she liked him so much, but it also meant that his guilt would eat at him. His tumor might kill whatever pretty little spark blossomed between them.

She didn’t want that to happen—not ever. She didn’t know what she did want, exactly, walking away from Jake—but she knew it wasn’t for that spark to get snuffed out by cancerous guilt.

-----

By the time Lycoris was back in her tiny apartment, any speck of happiness left over from seeing Jake had been wrung out of her by worry. How could she do this? She couldn’t keep this a secret from her best friend—she shouldn’t! She was being an awful friend and she knew it. Hayden would never speak to her again if she could read Ly’s mind, see what she was feeling—know how thrilled she’d been by Jake’s smile.

Lycoris shook her head. Jake didn’t belong to her! She paused, because Jake didn’t belong to Hayden either. He didn’t belong to either of them, he was his own. She tried very hard to keep herself from examining the emotion that expanded in her chest as that thought crossed her mind. Instead she cleaned her apartment—again. She was certain it hadn’t been this neat... Ever.

When the counters were spotless and her CD collection was alphabetized, Ly sat down on the couch and stared at her little-used television. With a frown, she instead reached for the bag of books from the library. She had dumped it on the floor by the door when she walked in, and had moved it while cleaning to sit neatly next to the couch for easy access. Ly held the canvas bag in her lap and smoothed the wrinkles tenderly, looking at the sketch of the library on the front.

She didn’t know if Jake would call. She didn’t know if he would see her again, but she could have this. She could keep her memory of today and their first date, even if it wasn’t much. She remembered the emotion she still couldn’t name in his eyes as he rushed up to her in the library, the way he laughed with her at the awkwardness of their situation in the Starbucks... The way his arms had felt wrapping around her. She could keep the canvas bag and fill it with those memories.

Ly reached one slim hand into the bag, feeling a silly urge to close her eyes and rifle the books around like slips of paper in a hat. She grabbed the first book her hand touched, worn paper brushing fondly against her skin—greeting her like an old friend. She looked at the title.

Slaughterhouse-Five.

All this happened, more or less.