Who Am I?

Remember when I said that after six pm, in this neighborhood everything turns to shit? Well, nothing’s changed. I stuff my phone and gum into my jeans and then I walk into the front room. I grab my house key from the counter in the kitchen and I bolt out of the apartment. I lock the front door and speed walk through the chaos that is my neighborhood. There’s loud blaring music, the sound of beer cans popping open, loud laughing and people yelling over each other. Everything’s so loud my ears are close to ringing; I pick up speed and cross the street. I then begin lightly running, afraid Nathaniel will get there before I do. I find the apartments I told him about, there are steps that lead to the inside of the apartment building, so I sit on them and let my heart calm down. It’s quiet out here, not many people are outside and people who are outside quietly walk by holding the leash on their dogs, or walk by holding the small hands of their kids. I pull my legs close to my chest, lay my head in my knees and take deep breaths. Once my heart slows down a bit, my phone rings making my heart race again.

“Hey,” I answer.

“Hey, I’m pulling up in front- oh wait I think I see you. Is that you sitting on the steps?”

I look up and I see Nathaniel sitting in this huge blue SUV. I stand up and walk towards his truck.

“Yeah,” I say and then hang up.

I get to his truck and tug on the door latch, but the door doesn’t open. Nathaniel hits a button, and I tug on the door latch again, opening the door this time.

“My bad, I thought I unlocked the doors.”

“It’s fine,” I respond, climbing up and into his truck.

“Nice apartments out here, you’re livin’ well.”

“Oh yeah,” I say nonchalantly.

Way to go Winter, impressing with lies already, well . . . There’s only more lies to come tonight.

“Thanks for picking me up,” I pull my seat belt on.

“No problem, so do you care what restaurant we go to?”

“No anywhere’s cool,” my stomach tightens.

I settle into my crème colored leather seat looking over his truck. Everything looks really clean, like OCD clean. The grey carpets look like they get vacuumed and shampooed every other day. The windows look like they were just washed, there are beads of water along the bottom and it hasn’t rained today. Nathaniel pulls into traffic and we stop at a red light, he takes the time to make conversation.

“You didn’t have to sit outside; I could’ve come up to your floor, or waited for you to come down.”

“Oh it was no problem; I just wanted some fresh air.”

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, just my stomach feels a little weird,” good lie, there should be no problem at dinner.

“Maybe some food will make you feel a bit better.”

“Hopefully,” I say in a quiet voice.

“There’s this really cool Italian restaurant that I’ve been to a few times, do you want to try that?”

“Sure, sounds cool,” I respond awkwardly.

We ride the rest of the way mostly making small talk about the 2012 Olympics, although I know nothing about it, because I don't have a TV. I mostly ask him questions about the different events and then we get to, "Ristorante". Which literally means restaurant. . . .They could have been a little more clever than that.

We pull up into the parking lot and walk inside a cozy, small looking place that smells of tomato, fish and bread. We're greeted by a young looking hostess she’s maybe only a few years older than me. She smiles, picks up two red menus, and then leads us to a booth. We sit in silence looking through our menus; I’m looking for anything that doesn’t involve grease. Of course, I end up choosing a salad. Our waiter comes by and we order, I get a salad with French dressing on the side and water. Nathaniel gets spaghetti with a sweet tea.

“So, Winter how’ve you been these past few years?” Nathaniel asks picking up the alcoholic drinks' menu.

I tug at the sleeve of my shirt, “fine I guess.”

“That’s good.”

Ugh, this is going to be very awkward, I should’ve just stayed home. This is complete bull.
“What about you, how’ve you been?” I forcefully ask.

“Pretty good actually,” he puts the menu back at the end of the table.

“How so?”

“Well, I’m in college which is going pretty well, living in an apartment, being independent and all of that good stuff.”

“Oh that’s good,” I say uninterested.

“I always wanted to know something. Why’d you drop out in sophomore year?”

That grabs my attention. My eyes grow a little bigger and then I shoot a glance at the blank wooden table. I pull my fingers through my tangled black hair and then look back up at him.

“I was going through some things.”

“Like what, a break up?” he asks sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“No it was something much bigger than that. What the fuck is your problem?”

“Calm down, you’re being loud,” he says glancing at the people around us.

“Fuck you,” I slide out of the booth, stand up and step away from the table.

Nathaniel grabs my wrist, holding tightly and pulling me back slightly.

“I’m sorry. Winter please sit back down, I didn’t invite you to dinner just to get you pissed off at me-”

“Oh yeah? Well that’s exactly what you did,” I say cutting him off.

“Look just sit down, please,” he pleads with his eyes.

God damn him! Why does he have this invisible hold over me? I sigh, yanking my arm away which hurts a little from his grip and I sit back down. I stare at him waiting for him to say something, because I’m not playing fake nice girl anymore. He looks at me, his dark brown eyes looking my face over. I get self conscious, afraid he knows my secret. I look away from him, running my fingers through my hair again, some falling in front of my left eye.

“You know, you weren’t always so short tempered,” he stares.

“Yeah well I wasn’t always a lot of what I am now, if that makes sense.”

“It does," he nods. "What happened to you Winter?” he asks softly, concerned.

I sigh not wanting his sympathy, so I play tough. “Shit, I don’t know. I’ve just been through a lot, still am going through it. Why do you care?”

“Because I always have,” he shrugs.

I just stare at him wanting, longing to remember. Then the waiter comes back with our food and drinks. Nathaniel thanks him and the waiter walks away. I wonder if he heard the commotion, I dip my straw into the glass of water and sip.

I find myself unconsciously breaking the lettuce apart with the fork. For twenty minutes nothing, but water comes between my lips and Nathaniel obviously notices.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Uh yeah sorry, my stomach’s still feeling a little funny. I’m afraid if I eat anything I’ll just puke it up.”

“Oh, do you want a box maybe you can eat your salad later?”

“That’d be great,” I plaster a fake small smile on.

He nods, finishes up his spaghetti and when the waiter comes by checking on us. We get the check, well Nathaniel get’s the check, I get a box and once everything is situated we leave. We ride in more silence until we get back to the apartments. He pulls up along a lamppost where he picked me up at and puts the truck in park.

“Thanks for coming to dinner with me even though your stomach was hurting. . . And I was being an asshole before and at the beginning of dinner.”

A smile plays with my lips, “no problem... Sorry for stealing”

He chuckles, “Don't worry about it just don't do it again. I hope you feel better soon.”

“Thanks me too,” I say, sighing with guilt.

“Do you want me to walk you in?”

I shake my head, “no I’m fine. Thanks for the ride.”

He nods, I open my door and slide out of the seat.

“Goodnight snowflake,” I hear him say softly, he's looking out at traffic.

My heart stutters and I look back at him. “What’d you just call me?”

He looks in my eyes. “Snowflake. . . Sorry, I used to call you that all the time.”

I nod I remember. I remember him calling me that just not a specific time, but I remember. I grab my Styrofoam box, close the door, give Nathaniel a little wave and then I walk up the steps. I walk towards the main door of the apartments and then Nathaniel pulls off driving away. I sigh, shake my head and walk on home.