To Be Alone With You

We climbed out the window onto the roof outside John’s window, lying out under the early December night sky. Both wrapped in sweatshirts and jeans, not an inch of our skin touched as we cuddled together with a book and a flashlight. With my head rested in the crook of John’s shoulder, I opened the book to the page we left off on, working by the shaky beam of the flashlight held in John’s hand.

“I will teach you to like reading yet, John O’Callaghan,” I declared proudly, finding the exact line to begin on.

“Doubtful,” he teased, nuzzling his nose on the top of my head, mussing my hair. “But I’ll let you keep trying.”

I grinned up at him for a split second before returning to the book, preparing myself to begin. We were elbow-deep in J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan, one of my favorite childhood stories. John hadn’t protested much, and had only fallen asleep once, the sound of my voice having lulled him to dreams late one night.

Those nights I read to John were some of my favorite times we had spent together so far, the rise and fall of his chest beneath my head, his arm looped loosely around my shoulders, the sound of my voice reading a classic echoing off the surfaces of the rooms we read in.

The last few weeks had been a whirlwind, John and I spending as much time as ever, now with Casey thrown into the mix. She was appreciative of him in the proper moments, and also critical of him when I needed someone to be on my side – which was rarely, usually in the case of smoking cigarettes. I had been terrified of them meeting, absolutely petrified that she would scare him away with her overprotectiveness regarding me. But they ended up getting along wonderfully, even hanging out while he waited for me to come back from the library some afternoons.

The mutual acceptance between them made it even more apparent: John was, above all else, a keeper. I was admittedly choosy, but when it came to Casey, even a perfect 10 wasn’t good enough. He had to be flawed in all the right ways, he had to hold his mouth just right when he smiled, and the list went on. And the fact that John took Casey for exactly what she was made me fall in love with him even more.

I loved him. I loved John O’Callaghan, with his guitar callused hands, voice like a forest fire, and an absolutely unwavering spirit. He held me together, his arms like an invisible thread that kept the very best pieces of me in place. I’d fought against him and finally succumbed to him. The concept of love was a completely foreign subject in my experience, but with John, it didn’t quite seem as scary as before.

It was all I could think about when I read to him that night, on his roof under the stars. As we neared the end, I could hear his heartbeat in my ear, steady, but oddly fast paced. After every word I spoke, I fought back the words my heart longed for me to say. It’s too soon, I told them. He’ll freak out, I told them. Even more so, I knew that the moment those words left my mouth, like caged doves into a late summer sky, I would more than likely run in the opposite direction for fear of his response.

“You know that place between sleeping and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming?” I read aloud, my favorite quote in the book. “That’s where I’ll always think of you.”

I heard John’s heartbeat quicken beneath me. “Josselyn?” he interrupted.

“Yeah?” I asked tentatively, fearful that he was having a heart attack or some other terrible explanation for his rapid heart rate. I sat up and turned to him, the glow from the flashlight barely illuminating his face. His eyes were completely serious, a look that he didn’t wear often.

“What’s going on?” I asked again after he didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that…” he mumbled, struggling for the words to express himself with eyebrows furrowed, knuckles white as he clutched the flashlight. “When you read that, it’s like I woke up. I realized I need to tell you something. Something important.”

My heart thudded in my chest, the resonance causing my hands to quiver. “What is it?”

“I love you.”

It was as if everything in the world had come to a sudden halt, John and I the only things still in motion – even my heart stopped for a minute before realizing it’s duties. The sound of the words I’d been rolling over in my mind for ages coming out of his mouth were foreign and exciting, like he’d spoken them in a language only I could understand. He loved me; he returned the silent message I had been sending him for weeks on end, his gaze locked onto me like he would never look away.

“I love you too, John.”

We fell in love beneath the stars, reading a book. It was like a dream I had been dreaming for my whole life was coming to life right before my eyes. And that night was only the beginning.



Hey, I don’t know if you got my message this morning, but I hope you had a good day at work. I’m thinking of you from Tempe.

I sighed, placing my phone down on my desk, removing my glasses, and rubbing my temples. It had been a long day at work, putting together the pieces of my article and layout – my first big project at Alt Press, all on my own. The design team had been in and out of my office all day, consulting me on grid set up, kerning, pixels per inch, the like. I was exhausted, and it was nearing eleven and I felt like I wasn’t anywhere near done. And then Kennedy texted me again.

I received a text from him that morning along essentially the same lines – something like, Spending the day on campus on ASU, thinking of you. What are you up to?

I hadn’t had the heart to respond. I stood firmly in my opinion that things between me and Kennedy could never work – there was the distance, there was John, there was simply too many factors that would always keep us apart to some degree. As much as it hurt me to leave him hanging, I knew it would be for the best. For both of us.

“Shouldn’t a girl like you be at a bar this late, letting every guy buy you a drink?” a voice asked from the door. I glanced up to see it was Rick, beard as full as ever, leaning against the dark, wooden frame. I quickly glanced back down, not wanting to maintain eye contact for too long.

My mind flickered back to my conversation with Charlotte before Kennedy took me out, remembering that it wasn’t just me that was under the impression that Rick had been abnormally forward with me recently. I’d seen him around the office but never stuck around long enough to chat, only enough to smile politely and shutter myself in the office.

“I have a lot of work to do, Rick,” I replied pleasantly, my tone hushed to match the empty office. Talking too loud only reminded me that it was me and him, alone on the entire floor. “It’s not going to do itself, is it?”

“Better not distract our star girl, then,” he deadpanned. I felt immediately at ease, knowing he had succumbed to my suggestion to leave so easily. That was before I realized he came through the door and sat down at the chair across from my desk.

“Is there something I can help you with?” I asked, closing the folder that housed a copy of the spread in front of me. “I promise I’ll be out of here in the next twenty minutes.”

Rick’s gaze was on me, unwavering in his attempt to make conversation. That was something that really stunned me about him, his absolute persistence. He’d never asked me out – or any of the other girls, for that matter – but something about the way he looked at you was absolutely never ending. His stare seemed to go for miles, through you, through the walls, seeing everything in its path. But mainly focusing on you.

“No, I just have a question for you.”

He leaned forward on his knees, elbows propping up his strong upper body. For whatever, I felt extremely uneasy. He’d never actually pulled anything with me, even on the nights where it was just us, late in the offices. Even in the days before I was promoted to an office, the days where I was kept in the open workspace with all the tables pushed together in the back. I’d never felt particularly afraid of him when it was just us, not like I was with just the two of us in my office with no one else around.
“Well, hopefully I have an answer.”

Raising a hand to adjust his grizzly beard, Rick posed his mouth to speak. “How do you like living in Brooklyn? In that apartment you found?”

I raised my eyebrows, surprised at the question. “I love it in Brooklyn. It’s kind of a pain to get to work, but I think that part of the city suits me. Why?”

“Oh,” he replied, leaning back in his chair. “Just wanted to be sure that you’re happy. I’ve walked past that apartment building a few times and saw some shady characters around there. I just wanted to be sure that you felt safe.”

It was ironic, because I felt safer walking to my apartment than I felt in that moment with my boss sitting in the same room as me. I was more comfortable walking on the streets of Brooklyn at night than I was having a meaningless late night conversation with my employer.

“I’ve never felt unsafe around my building, no,” I replied, giving him the sweetest smile I could muster. “What brought you all the way out to where my building is in Brooklyn?”

“I have a friend who lives on the first floor of the building down the street,” he provided. “I just wanted you to know that if you ever need someone to escort you home, I’m your man.”

The thought of an entire ride home to Brooklyn with Rick, be it the subway or in a taxi – or perhaps he had a car, that would be even worse – made me bristle. “That’s very kind of you Rick, but I can get home just fine on my own. I’m a big girl.”

“Just thought I would offer,” he said with a shrug, picking up the small wooden elephant I kept on my desk for good luck. “Pretty girls like you shouldn’t be alone at night.”

I blushed, not knowing whether it was from the compliment or the heat of his undivided attention. “Well, I have a can of mace in here,” I admitted, pointing to my purse, hoping that if anything were to go wrong, that would deter him. “I think I can take care of myself on my way home. Speaking of which, I probably should hit the road. It really is late, like you said.”

He was quiet as I stood to gather my things, stuffing my folder and laptop into my briefcase in a rushed manner, trying my hardest not to seem in a panic. I could feel his gaze on me, unwavering, almost like he was going to say something more. As I went to the door, he stood to follow me out, allowing me to lock the outrageously heavy oak door behind me. I headed to the stairs without so much as a goodbye, until he interrupted.

“You look nice today, Josselyn,”

I turned back to see him leaning against the door to my office, arms crossed against his chest and a half-smile perched on his lips. “Oh, thank you,” I mumbled awkwardly, giving him a slight nod. “Goodnight Rick.”

“See you bright and early tomorrow, Star Girl.”

As I descended the stairs, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, only to see yet another text from Kennedy. It was a picture of his dog sleeping next to him with the message Oh, and Kota says sweet dreams. An involuntary smile came to my lips, imagining Kennedy and his black and white puppy snuggling in bed together. And before I could really understand what I was doing, I was dialing his number. If anything, he would be the one to get my mind off things.