A Night With Her

The night is cold, dark, and empty.

The moon is perched above a single barely visible cloud, accompanied by no more than a few glistening stars. The wind rustles through the trees outside my apartment window mimicking the sound of waves rummaging in the deep, dark sea.

The windows are open and the weather is welcome. The air is cool, crisp. It is almost comforting, if it weren’t for the heaviness in my heart, in my head, in my body.

The weight of a tired dullness pushes me down into the bed. A candle burns on the nightstand beside me, melting flickering light with the soft blue glow of the moon. A car passes by below me and its lights flash for just a moment against the empty walls of my room.

A plane flitters through the night sky, full of passengers, full of life, and yet so far away that I feel nothing but the hunger to be with them, to be with someone, anyone.

The night is cold, dark, and empty.

A surprising light illuminates my room, drowning out that of the moon and of passing cars below. A soft buzz follows, accompanied by a familiar *ding*. I drowsily reach for my phone. A message has appeared on my screen.

10:32 pm.

“Hey.” from: Julia.

My heart races. I unplug the phone from its charger, swipe to unlock the homescreen, and open the messaging app. Do I reply? Of course, I should fucking reply. But what do I say?

“Hello.” I type. My thumb hovers over the ‘send’ button.

I delete the message one letter at a time.

“Hey.” I type. I read somewhere that mimicking introductory responses is the safest choice when communicating through text. She lives in my building, but I figured if she wanted to speak in person she would have knocked on my door. She knows I don’t sleep well at night.

*Send*.

I light *blip* signals that the message has been sent and delivered. Minutes pass, no response. I turn over the phone and wait.

*ding*.

I flip over the phone.

10:41 pm.

“Work was crazy today. I saw that you left early. What happened?”

I didn’t want to tell her that another coworker informed me that I left my car’s windows down and that by the time I got out to my car, the driver’s side seat was covered in snow. I scratched my beard for a moment as I thought of something to say.

“I got called out. Family emergency.”

*Send*.

What I didn’t tell her is that ice had frozen over the window, sealing it open. I had no choice but to spend the remainder of my shift warming the engine of my car until it reached a point where I was able to its heat to literally defrost my windows. Immediately, the phone buzzed.

“I was left alone with those rowdy customers. They didn’t leave a tip because they thought you bailed. I didn’t know their orders. It was pretty fucked up.”

Shit. I knew those guests would be trouble. I was so absorbed into the snow-disaster I was dealing with that I forgot that I was in the middle of dealing with a busy table.

“I’m sorry, I left the windows open in my car and snow-”

My phone buzzed with another message before I could hit send.

“I hope your family is okay.”

A sharp change of pace. I deleted my message and started again.

“Yes, they’re fine. I lied, I’m sorry. I didn’t have an emergency. I made a dumb mistake and had to deal with it. Thank you for covering my table.”

I put the phone down and rested my head back against the pillow with an exasperated sigh. Idiot. I thought to myself.

My phone buzzed again.

“Hah, it happens.”

Phew. I’m glad she’s not upset.

My phone buzzes once more.

“Next time, call me. I could have come out to help you.”

Another buzz, followed by a ding.

“I see that your lights aren’t on. Are you trying to sleep? We can talk more tomorrow. I don’t want to be a bother.”

Quickly, I respond.

“Thank you for offering to help. You’re not a bother. I enjoy talking to you.”

A few minutes pass before I receive another message.

10:57 pm.

“Do you have any cigarettes left?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Great, meet me outside in the communal balcony. We will be alone, so bring a lighter. Mine is dry.”

I throw on a jacket that hangs precariously from the doorknob and run out into the hallway, down past several doors, up a flight of stairs, down another hallway, and then out onto the communal balcony.

She was right, the balcony is empty. Mostly, anyway. It is empty except for me and her.

She is rested against the railing, wearing a thick Marmot jacket and black skinny jeans. Her hair is hidden beneath a red beanie. Her hands are hidden in her pockets.

“Finally, you’re here.” She teases.

“I came as fast as I could.” I replied, somewhat out of breath.

“Oh, were you in a hurry to see me?”

My face felt warm.

“I’m kidding. Did you bring the sticks?”

“Yes, they’re in my pocket.” I fumbled for a bit but found them, nonetheless. I took out a stick and held it in my mouth. I took out another and handed it to her. She then promptly placed it in her mouth and dug her hands back into her pockets to avoid the cold.

I withdrew a lighter and sparked a flame. Her face glowed in the warm light. The flame reflected in her pale blue eyes. I tipped my cigarette into the flame and held the flame to her. She lit her stick, took a long inhale, and breathed out the smoke.

“I’m glad you’re here.” She said.

“Thank you. I’m glad you’re here, as well. I’m sorry I left you alone at work today. I shouldn’t have done that.”

She smiled gently. “It’s okay. I was worried, that’s all. I figured they weren’t going to tip either way. Sometimes you can just tell.”

I laughed.

“How do you avoid burning your beard with the cigarette?” She asked.

“My beard is as much a part of me as is anything else.” I responded. “It’s second nature, I suppose.”

She smiled. “Are you warm in that jacket?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s warmer than it looks.”

Suddenly, she started crying.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. I was worried I offended her, somehow. She did not respond, but came close to me. She leaned into me, sobbing into my chest. Her cigarette fell by her side. I ashed mine and discarded it.

“I’m just so glad you’re here.” She said weakly. “I was feeling so alone tonight. I’m sorry for bringing you out here. It took everything I had to ask you to spend time with me.”

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“No.” She said. “Not anymore.”