Memories and Daydreams

Memories and Daydreams

The freezing wind grabbed at her dark, pin-straight hair as she hurried down the deserted street, regretting her decision to wear her new heels as she wobbled precariously with every step.  Every so often she glanced behind herself; one could never be too careful in a city like this, even on the safe side of town. All she wanted was to get to her destination, but the line of brownstones stretched endlessly. She continued onward, stumbling along the cobblestoned street.

Her fingers were almost numb by the time she reached number 35, with  light spilling from its windows and muffled sounds coming from inside. She smiled gratefully at it before clambering up the steps and stumbling through the green door. She was assaulted on the spot with a gush of warmth and pounding music that seemed to echo through her bones. Shedding her coat, she turned the corner and a thin pale hand grasped her arm.

“Ceci, you came!” exclaimed the face belonging to the hand. The girl’s golden curls bounced endlessly down her back, trailing into a dress much too young for her body, but looked good anyways. Cecily turned to the girl with a hint of a smile.

“I always come, Ames. New dress?”

“Of course, silly,” Amy gave her a look, “I’d never wear the same thing twice. Now, come on! There’s so many people you need to meet!”

With that, the blonde pulled her friend into the sea of people, creating a pathway in which the brunette could follow.

“There’s someone I want you to meet, Ceci,” Amy’s voice was almost drowned out by the music. Cecily made a face.

“What? Come on, Cecily, he’s smart, he’s handsome, and kind of mysterious. Just your type. You need to get over your fear of fun and live a little!” Cecily grimaced.

“I do have fun! I don’t need you to match me up with people...”

A wayward dancer fell into Cecily, and her hand slipped from Amy’s. She made her way to the opposite wall where Amy stumbled into her again.

“Listen, Cecily, he really is gr- hey wait, JAMES! Damn, one sec,” maneuvered her way through a couple more dancers to tap a man on the shoulder.

“JAMES!” he turned, looking at Amy, “Come here! You need to meet my friend!”

The man named James glanced over at Cecily, who turned to look at him. His mouth twitched, she stumbled back, her stomach turning. How is he here? She thought wildly. She looked into his eyes. The lights of the party and the throbbing music dulled as she stared straight through him. The walls fell away and the party, too, but he was still there. She sat, entranced by his ice blue eyes silhouetted against the light hair, the white cinder-block wall.

“CECILY!”

She jumped, shaken from her reverie. She turned her head towards the source of the voice.

“Per favore, fai attenzione! Che cosa significa ‘noioso’?” A man with hair speckled gray hair gave her his most severe look. He was pointing at a word written on the white board, and she had not the slightest idea what it meant.

“Mi dispiace, signore, ma non lo so,” Cecily responded, staring down at the battered Converse on her feet in an attempt to look humbled. The man gave her a frustrated glance, and then continued talking. Cecily turned back to the boy with the ice blue eyes, who was leaning back in his chair trying to hide a smirk on his youthful face.

“God, James, you could have warned me!’ she whispered furiously, and James’ smirk became more prominent.

“But Ceci, why would I? You know how much I love to watch you suffer.” She glared at him.

“You’re impossible.” The boy’s smirk became a smile.

  “Come on, you know I love you, Cec!” He gave her one last smile then tuned back in to the professor’s lecture, tapping his pencil against the plastic desk. She turned back to her notebook doodling, letting her pen wander aimlessly on the lined page. Her cursive letters were barely distinguishable, but she knew what they said: I love you, too. She scribbled it out with her pen in an effort to erase it from her being. Soon her eyes closed and her mind drifted from the Italian lecture. Cecily began to hear music, dull at first but growing louder. The bass pounded in her ears and she opened her eyes to see the inside of the old brownstone. Two concerned faces peered back at her.

“Hey Cec, you okay?” James looked troubled as Cecily nodded, and after a second a look of confusion came over Amy’s face.

“Wait, you know each other?’’

James smiled, “Yeah, we go back-”

“-a long way,” Cecily filled in.

She smiled back at him. Amy looked delighted, “Well, then, I’ve got to get back to hosting this shindig…but have fun you two!” She winked at Cecily and disappeared into the throng of dancers. After a moment of silence, Cecily looked up at James.

“So, how’ve you been?” James kept smiling, eyes drinking in the sight of her.

“I’m better than I was,” he responded. She looked at his eyes, still blue but a bit softer. Cecily’s heart pounded.

“Wanna dance?” she asked, a bit breathless.

“Of course.”  She pulled him onto the dance floor, and then held onto him for dear life. His crisp white shirt smelled strangely of white board marker and notebook paper, but something about the smell made her want to hold him tighter. They moved to the music for what seemed like centuries, content just to hold each other. Soon they found themselves alone on the dance floor, still swaying to music that was just and echo. People were strewn about on various couches and chairs, asleep. As dawn crept across the room, James lifted his head off of Cecily’s shoulder.

“Listen Cec...” They swayed back and forth, eyes closed lips almost touching, breathing shallow. They moved closer as pink sun spread across their faces.

“Cec?” Cecily opened her eyes. James looked younger, somehow.

“Yeah, James?” she looked once again into his ice blue eyes. He smiled.

“You should probably pay attention.”