Expiration Date

3

Naomi lay on the lawn watching the sky. It stretched out before her- light blue, cloudless, a little hazy with smog. The grass was soft and cool beneath her and it tickled her arms and bare legs. Who knew the earth had an expiration date? Her eyes watched the leaves dance in the breeze. I guess the scientists knew. They’ve been telling us for years.

It was warmer than normal. It was December, it was Oregon, and she was wearing shorts on what felt like an excruciating summer day. Her skin was slowly turning the lightest of pinks across her tan. Solar flares. I would have bet money it would have been oxygen levels now that the reefs are almost all bleached, but I guess not. It’s the sun that’ll do us in.

Her phone began to ring. It was her mom. I’ll call her back. I need to process first. The ringing finally stopped and her mind began turning again. We’re all going to die, and I can’t even get to them. I can’t even see them. Her eyes began to swim and the blue of the sky blurred like watercolors. Planes are grounded. Roads are closed, and they’re across the country.

The phone began ringing again. Naomi picked it up and answered without bothering to look. “Mom? Dad?” Her voice shook and her tears spilled over.

2

There was anarchy. Half the world was panicking, the other half was partying. Naomi, though, was handling her feelings a little differently. It was a scorching 125 degrees outside, and so she stayed inside with the curtains drawn, dancing in her underwear with the air conditioner blasting, singing hate songs dedicated to the scientists and billionaires who left them all behind on their fancy rockets with a bottle of wine as her microphone.

She ate anything she wanted whenever she wanted it. By the time night had fallen, she was on the couch, bottles and glasses and food all around, staring at the wall.

“I’m gonna die alone,” she whispered to the walls.

1.5

It was 4 am on the last day of human history on Earth.

Naomi had not slept. She was staring at the ceiling watching the fan turn.

Her phone chimed.

“I can’t sleep. Can you?” the message read. Again. “All I can think about is you.”

Naomi blinked, thinking. She began to type.

“I was thinking of you, too.”

She set her phone down, lost in her spiraling thoughts. Ding. She picked it back up.

“Do you remember what you told me the last time we saw each other?”

Naomi clutched her phone to her chest and her eyes roved from corner to corner on the ceiling. She had never loved like she had loved him.

“Yes,” she typed. Send.

Then another. “I would die for you, Daniel, but I can’t live for you.”

She closed her eyes. Ding.

“Well, we’re all dying now.” Naomi laughed through her tears.

Ding. “Can I come over?”

1

Naomi sat in the dim light watching dawn break over the horizon. Headlights fell over the back yard and she turned to see his car pull into the driveway. The headlights clicked off and he stepped out, waved, his face indistinguishable in the darkness. She turned away and looked back at the sunrise. He sat in the chair beside her.

“It feels like I’m watching life and death collide,” she said.

“Hi.”

She turned and smiled, eyes wet. “Hi.”

He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. His face was motionless, his eyes searching.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Everything. God…” he bent over, rubbed his face anxiously, and sat up again. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you, too.”

“What do you want to do for your last day?”

Naomi looked again to the quickly rising sun, her mind wandering through dreams and wishes. Man is it hot, she thought. And the sun’s not even up yet. A stiff breeze rushed past. Her hair twirled around her face.

“Hey,” she said, an idea materializing. “Do you think we could go ice skating?”

“Why in the world not? Come on. Race you to the car.” They took off, nearly falling as they got out of their chairs and stumbled across the lawn to the car.

“Let’s stop for snacks on the way,” he said, turning the key.

“There’s that place on Main Street just before the sports center. We can raid the frozen section and heat everything in the microwave.”

The doors to the store opened automatically. Boxes and wilted produce littered the ground. The shelves were disheveled and bare. They took baskets and ran through the store, laughing and filling them to the brim with pizzas and dinners and ice cream and packed it, baskets and all, in his trunk.

Daniel broke the lock and they stepped inside, searching for the lights. The ice rink was abandoned, but the temperatures were stable. Noone turned off the air or the cooling systems. No one bothered.

They left their snacks in the bleachers. Naomi went in search of the music player while Daniel rummaged through the rental room for skates. “Size eight, right?” he called from somewhere in the room, lost between shelves.

“Yeah, eight!” The speaker popped as her phone connected to the old audio system. “Aha! Got it.”

The music started up.

“Here,” he said, handing her a ragged pair of skates.

“Thanks.”

Naomi sat down and forced her feet into the skates. She struggled with the laces. She felt like a child again.

Daniel stooped down and took the laces from her shaking hands and tied the skates tightly. Naomi sighed. Get it together, Naomi. He stood and offered his hand.

“Thanks.”

He smiled at her. “Did you ever learn how to stop without running into the wall?”

She laughed. “Not even almost.”

He snorted and shook his head, stepping onto the ice. She followed haphazardly behind, clinging to his hand. “I swear, you are the worst skater I’ve ever met.”

“Not the worst, just the most stagnant.”

“Same difference.”

“At least I can skate without using the wall,” she replied, straightening.

He turned to face her, skating backward, and laughed. “It’s true, I’ll give you that. You can skate without the wall- you just can’t stop without it.”

“It’s ok. It wasn’t exactly on my bucket list.” They were both quiet for a moment. He began skating in circles around her, his hands clasped behind his back and his expression serious. “What is it?”

“Well,” Daniel said, glancing up at her. “I was just thinking about how many memories I never made. And I was thinking about how much time I lost.”

“Lost?”

“Time I could have spent with you.”

“Daniel, we weren’t healthy for each other. We tried, but-”

“No,” he interrupted. “No, not really. You tried and then I didn’t. I tried and then you didn’t. But we never really worked on it. We left too much… how should I put this? To chance? No.” Daniel stopped skating. She put her arms out and wobbled as she tried to slow down. He reached out and brought her to a stop.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.” His brow furrowed as he thought, his mind still mulling over his words. She could almost see him flipping through clips of their past, whispered moments of sincerity and covered-over feelings, looking for the right way to describe it. Finally, he faced her and spoke. “We left too much unsaid. There is so much that could have been if only we had had the courage to try.” She was quiet. “Like, you know, I never even told you I loved you.”

“I know.”

He began to skate, hands behind his back, then circled around to face her again. “I just… expected you to know it.” Their eyes met. “I think it scared me to tell you. I think I was scared you would just… leave, you know? I think I was scared you would wake up one day and I just wouldn’t be enough, and so I never told you.”

“And then I did leave.”

“But if I had loved you- not the feeling, but the action- openly and without reserve… would you have left?” Her face twisted and contorted as she tried to hold back the tears. She looked down at the ice, shaking her head. “Hey, it’s ok to cry,” he said, his eyes spilling over at the sight of her tears. “There’s no shame in it. Besides, who’s gonna know?”

“Ooh,” she breathed out, slow and measured, hands on her hips and eyes still on the ice. Naomi looked up to meet his gaze. “You are. You’re gonna know. And… I never wanted you to see me hurt. I never wanted you to see how much I needed you. It hurts to lay your heart out, bare and raw and open to the elements, you know?”

Daniel laughed and shook his head, taking her hands in his. “Look at us: a couple of cowards. The truth comes out, but what can we do with it now? We’ve already reached the end.”

Naomi smiled, wiping her tears away. “Well, not yet we haven’t.”

“Right,” he nodded. “That’s right. Not yet.”

0

Naomi and Daniel lay in the middle of the rink. Below them is a mattress of hockey uniforms and abandoned sweatshirts.

“I’m so tired,” she said.

“Then go to sleep,” he replied, pulling her closer and kissing her forehead.

“But what if I don’t wake up?” she asked, looking up at him.

Daniel looked into her eyes and saw the fear and the sadness of a good-bye come too early. More than anything he wished to fill them with peace. “Then know that we are sleeping together.”

She smiled. “Sweet dreams.”

“You too,” he whispered. “I’m going to dream about tomorrow. What about you?”

Naomi closed her eyes and nuzzled closer, resting her head on his chest.

“I’m going to dream about forever.”