Breathe

This was my first submission for my fiction class.

Breathe

Breathe, just breathe, I tell myself as I face the long, winding staircase. At the top of these stairs, Derek, my best friend and the boy I secretly love, is waiting in his apartment to give me some news. The stairs look endless, as if I will never reach my destination.

Thump. Thump. Thump. My heart pounds inside my chest like a judge’s gavel in a disarrayed courtroom. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that my heart would jump right out of my chest, leaving a gaping hole. I take a deep breath, and begin my ascent. White walls flank either side of me on the hardwood stairs. With each step I take, I can’t help but think of Derek and how amazing he is.

Every time I close my eyes I can see the lock of his curly, jet black hair that always falls into his green eyes every time I make him laugh; his freckle on his right cheek; his perfectly toned body. But it’s not just his looks that make him amazing, it’s everything else. It is his gentleness and kindness towards anyone and everything. He cares for the people in his life and always puts them ahead of himself. He makes me feel good about myself whenever I am feeling bad. When I am with him, he makes me forget about everything bad in the world. The best part though, is that he tells me that his days are better when he sees me.

I remember the first time I met Derek, we were in the same math class our first semester of college. On the first day, he was late. For me, it was like a scene out of a cheesy romance movie when he walked through the door. Time seemed to slow down as I took in his beauty. He was definitely the best looking guy I had ever seen in my life. There was only one chair left when he came in. It was the chair right next to me. I couldn’t stop staring at him. When he caught me looking, he smiled. I smiled shyly back, blushed, and looked away. When our professor started his lecture, I couldn’t understand a word. When the class was over, I hadn’t taken any notes. I looked over to Derek and noticed that he hadn’t taken any notes either, but instead had drawn a cartoon of our professor. I busted up laughing as soon as I saw it. Derek joined in. Once our laughter had died down, he asked me if I wanted to go get some coffee and try to figure out what our professor just lectured on for the last hour. I accepted.

After that day, we became the best of friends. We hung out every day after every class. We would sit under the shady oak trees on the main lawn of campus and just talk for hours. We sat side by side. He always looked straight into my eyes while we talked. I looked back, but sometimes when I got too nervous, I would just look out at the passing strangers. He would tell me about his volunteer hours at a home for the elderly. He told me about his dreams for the future to live in New York City and work for a Fortune 500 company. And I told him about my dreams of becoming a Tony Award-Winning Broadway star. He believed in my dreams and I believed in his.

Finally, I manage to climb up the first flight of stairs. I pause on the landing to catch my breath. It’s warm for March and a bead of sweat drips down the side of my face. I reach up and wipe the sweat before it can drop to the floor. I lick my dry lips, noticing that they are chapped. I reach into my shoulder bag and pull out my favorite chap-stick; it smells like cotton candy. As I apply it generously to my lips, I begin to smile. The scent reminds me of one of my favorite nights with Derek.

A couple months after Derek and I met, he decided he wanted to surprise me. I wasn’t having the best week. I had failed my midterm; I had never failed anything in my life before. We ended up at one of those winter carnivals, the ones where the fair grounds look like a winter wonderland. Icicle and candy cane lights illuminated the fake snow that was spread around. They had a tall Christmas tree in the center with giant fake presents underneath the tree. It was a Tuesday night and I was surprised that the carnival was packed full of people. He took me on the Ferris wheel and the tea cup ride. But nothing he did was cheering me up. I was beginning to feel angry. There were too many people around. He couldn’t find me any vegetarian-friendly food options, so we were stuck eating cotton candy the entire night. And, on top of all that, I was freezing because I didn’t bring a jacket since I hadn’t known we were going to be outside. I hadn’t wanted to go out that night and I didn’t want to be there. I felt overwhelmed by the large crowd and the horrid day I had, I was on the verge of tears. That is when Derek grabbed my hand.

“Dahlia, we are going to have a fun night, no matter what. Let’s go find a stupid game to play,” Derek said.

He dragged me along in protest to a booth where if you land the frog on the lily pad, you get a prize. I watched as Derek tried and failed miserably four times in a row.

“Why are you even trying? You’re just wasting your money,” I told him.

“And why are you being so cynical?”

I just rolled my eyes, I wanted to leave. Derek set up his frog for his fifth try. He aimed it with precision and hit the frog at just the right moment. Amazingly, and to my surprise, the frog landed smack dab in the middle of the lily pad.

“Ha Ha, told you I could do it,” Derek bragged.

“Okay, okay, you were right, I was wrong,” I said.

“What would you like for your prize?” the person working the booth droned.

Derek looked up at the array of stuffed animals clipped up on the backboard of the booth, scanning for the perfect one: pink teddy bears with a heart that says ‘I wuv you’; a puppy dog with a heart dangling out of its mouth; and various cartoon characters I didn’t even recognize.

“I’ll take that one,” Derek told the worker, pointing at the one he wanted.

I watched as the worker pulled down Derek’s prize. It was a stuffed monkey holding a banana.

“Here. This is the last one. Enjoy,” the worker said, unenthusiastically.

“Here, I know monkeys are your favorite. Now do me a favor, cheer up. That test isn’t the end of the world, you know,” Derek said. As he handed me the monkey, he bent down and gave me a light kiss on the cheek. He was so close I could smell the cotton candy on his breath.

My cheeks were burning but he had managed to turn my horrible day into a perfect night.

My foot catches on a stair and causes me to trip a little. A smile still manages to peel across my face as I recall that night. Just like clockwork, the butterflies return to their familiar home. I look up to realize that I had managed to climb the last two flights of stairs while lost in my memory.

I walk across the landing to the heavy green door to Derek’s floor. I turn the knob a little too quickly and with that the door opens with a loud, cringing creak. A blast of cold, air-conditioned air hits me and makes my hair dance, sending a tiny chill down my spine.

I look to my right down the long hallway to where Derek’s apartment is, all the way at the end. The beige walls of the hallway are illuminated by the sun coming through the window at the end of the hall. As I begin walking, the butterflies start dancing faster to the fast beat of my heart.

The door to apartment 333 faces me. I hear the muffled sound of music on the other side of the door. I take a deep breath, pull my arm back, and knock three times in rhythm.

The door opens and Derek stands smiling at me in all his perfection. He motions for me to come in and welcomes me with the usual bear hug.

“Dahlia, I’m so glad you’re finally here,” Derek says.

“Well with the way you sounded on the phone, I came as soon as I could,” I reply.

We make our way into his tidy apartment over to the torn-up, brown leather couch and sit facing each other. That is when I notice the song that had started to play, “If It Kills Me” by Jason Mraz. Derek gives me his goofy grin that he gets when he is excited. I smile back.

“I was going to wait to tell you the news until a little later, but I just want to tell you now,” Derek says.

“Alright,” I say, sitting up a little straighter getting ready for what I have been hoping to hear for the last few months.

“You know how I went to the orchestra concert last night?” Derek asked.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, just when the concert was about to start, this girl sits next to me. It was the only seat left in the place. At first we just smiled at each other, but when intermission rolled along, we started talking. Dahlia, she was funny. She was intelligent. And she was beautiful! After the concert I asked her if she wanted to do something and she said she did. We went out for some ice cream and took a walk on the beach. She’s perfect; the girl of my dreams…”

Derek continues on with pure joy in his eyes, but I don’t hear another word. Perfect? The girl of his dreams? I sit there, his words playing like a broken record in my head. The butterflies are no longer dancing. My heart is no longer beating. Instead, a sharp pain rises in my chest as a tiny invisible person inside of me rips my heart into a million little pieces. My throat is getting tighter and tighter. Derek is all but a blurred vision behind my tear-stricken eyes. And all I can hear is Jason Mraz reminding me, “But I never said a word, I guess I’m gonna miss my chance again.” I missed my chance.