I finish off my pancakes while the sun finally
comes out to greet the world.
Double checking this time that my cell phone was
in fact in my pocket, I wave goodbye to my new
friend and make my way out of the eventful
coffee shop to my now shiny wet car.
As I look down fumbling for my keys, a gray
shadow falls over my way...one that holds an all
too familiar presence.
"Hello." Comes the crystal clear voice. I turn
quickly around to see the piercing blue eyes
from the night before, my stomach immediately
falling at his sight. I stand still for a
moment, looking up at his handsome features that
gaze so effortlessly back at me. "Um, I have to
go." I reply, shifting my focus back to the car
door at hand.
The shadow doesn't shift, but
remains unshakably persistent. "Sorry about
last night, the way all of that went down. If
it's alright, I'd like to take you out again for
another try around." His smile awaits patiently
for my reply.
I breathe in, my nerves beginning to flutter
slightly as I listen to his words. I turn
around, facing the man that haunted my night of
"You know, trust really doesn't work that way."
I answer cleanly, my response soft but steady.
He raises his eyebrows in surprise. "I'm
sorry?" It begins to mist slightly and he moves
his hand swiftly across his dark damp bangs,
clearing them from his eyes.
I maintain my stance as I gaze into his
questioning eyes. "What I'm saying is...no one
should be treated the way you treated me last
night...the way you..." I pause, my words
trailing off; my eyes widen slightly with new
realization as they catch sight of a familiar
moon shaped mark on his forehead where his bangs
had once lied.
He laughs almost nervously, his sharp blue eyes
looking into mine with perplexing curiosity, as
if he was exposed. "What?" he asks. "You kind
of look as though you just saw a ghost or
I put my hand in front of my mouth then drop it
softly as I look inquisitively into the mystery
"Ian?" I whisper as the
color simultaneously vanishes from his face.
"Oh God" I whisper in response to his look of
dreaded confirmation. He rubs his face quickly
with his sleeve, cowering his head down with a
reflection of shame, just as he had so long
Memories flash painfully backwards to 20 years
in the past. I was 10 years old, he was 12. Our
childhood neighborhood was small and we would
ride bikes around the side roads after school.
Many of those early evenings I could remember
his fathers face as he called him inside, angry,
always raising his voice as if he had done
something wrong. There were days I noticed the
bruises on his arms, the quiet silence in his
eyes, hiding moments he would never reveal to
"Ian...I thought you...they told me you died."
He looks back at me, his eyes now full of the
realization that I now knew. "No." He finally
answers, his voice now raspy with each word.
"Can't always have what we want...can we now,
He shakes his head as if to quickly brush away
the realization; then without another word, he
turns silently, pacing steadily down the road,
leaving me stunned, standing abandoned far
behind in his broken trail.