N. Continued

“Good afternoon passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 89B to Toronto. We are now inviting those passengers with small children, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes time. Thank you.”

The announcement woke me up, as I looked in daze at the dozens of people carrying their luggage to the front of the line. There was the concerned mom telling her kids to stay close, the relaxed dad handling all the important documents and that one bratty teenager instagramming his travels. I stretched my arm as far as I could and attempted to drink my overdue double-double. I took a sip, and stared at my server from a distance away.

She was right to judge my taste. That was atrocious. It charred my tongue with acrid flavor, my taste buds longing for a remedy. The hashbrowns provided that remedy in plenty fortunately, with crisp Cuban sting as I disposed the prior agony. The vacationists around me examined their travels; some had faces with hope of returning, some with relief that it’s over and in that crowd of emotion, there I sat devoid of any sentiment. The couple beside me talked deeply about how their excursion impacted the wife so much. Sounded British, mid 40’s, seemed like the intellectual type.

“. . .I know that but don’t you think it will help her. It will give her a chance to explore her profession — it’s something SHE LOVES”

“And — what about the costs?”

“We’ll figure something out. I don’t want Natalie to grow up and feel like her one opportunity to explore her future was taken away from her by her parents”

Triggered. Their conversation blurred into my obscurity, as I plummeted into a space with my deepest of fears; loneliness. That word had conceived meaning to me and it was meaning I couldn’t decipher apart from the fact it crushed every part of me. Trying to forget something yet with each slightly connected memorabilia, a part of you gets scorched. As if hot iron is being melted against your most sensitive of skin. I needed to get out of this place, get on the plane and just go. Go away from this city, this country, this continent and never fall witness to her again. I tried to make sense to my very self. ‘Rishi You have been here for 10 days and you have met her YESTERDAY. Think. In one day there is no way you have ANY sort of sensitive attachment to her. Think about how STUPID this sounds just hearing it.’ My heart was throbbing against my chest with rapid succession, each beat hammering away the vulnerability.

I stood up and walked to the back of the terminal as I stared into the runway. Attempting to distract myself and divulge into deep thought about other aspects of me; my occupation, my family, my friends and yet there circulated only 3 syllables…. My fists were clenched to a tee but not with anger, but rather to shield myself from my own anxiety. The man taking pictures next to me had headphones plugged in; his music amplifying with each passing symphony and yet his calm demeanor projecting otherwise. The dichotomy was evident between him and me; him energized on the in — yet tranquil on the out, whilst I was shattered on the in and lost on the out.

“Piensas en mí!!(piensas en mi), En mi amor !(en mi amor),Y aunque querrás no puedes vivir. Nunca encontrarás nadie que te lo haga como yo!!!”

As I walked into the beach party, the DJ screamed a message so alien to me that it felt more like a mating call than a song. It was 10:30 PM and the beach party was just starting; I was expecting a nice relaxing evening with some volleyball and beer, and instead this looked straight out of an advertisement for spring break. If a fraternity ever had a New Year’s Eve rave and there were at least 150 attendees at that night’s show, it would have been that. The beach was abounding with people as I searched for Natalie; the one person I knew in this pool of ambiguity. They all looked the same but yet she was different. She was pretty, beautiful and scintillatingly gorgeous like the rest of the women but she had that warmth about her that no one else did. So after a good 30 seconds of search, I just decided to get a cold beer, because I’m not that devoted to a girl. The patron was an older man, and he was in conversation with some gym junkie but I assumed his multitasking skills were state of the art.

“Uno Servesa Senior”

He looked at me, nodded and just as he was about to grab one from the fridge, this meathead in-front of me clutches him by the collar. Take that in. A 50 something year old man is being clutched by the collar by a 6 foot 7 giant of a man who is thrice my size whose conflict I know nothing about. Thus my Canadian instincts kicked in.

“WOAH WOAH WOAH. EASY THERE — LET HIM GO – What the Fu-”

I smacked the giant once on the arm to get his attention away from the patron and he turned his head around 90* to face me. He had two tattoos on his neck, one which resembled a viper. Danger sign #1.

“HIJO DE PUTA!”

He yelled straight into my face, the translation- Motherfucker. Fairly simple use of language with clear intent. Danger sign #2. Time for me to back off, and just walk away.

“Rishi? What are you doing…?”

I turned around to see Natalie walking into the bar. There she was; as resplendent as ever yet visibly worried. I could tell she thought I was moments away from being punctured by this behemoth but this was my time. These past couple hours where my aim was to impress her, to woo her over, to make her swoon, to sweep her off her feet. It would be now. The bad guy was infront me, the girl was worried and so the good guy decided to become the hero. Danger Sign #3

I glared back at the giant, who looked like an ex boxer turned convict at this point, and jabbed him straight into his abdomen. I absorbed all the power I could fluster, and injected it into that, and I fully expected a complete slam to occur within a few seconds. Him; plummeting into the wooden floor and me, standing over his body like a king yet that was left a fantasy. Within two seconds I looked up briefly at him; commanding over me without a scratch or any sign of stress, and I could feel immediate repercussions for myself. He took his right fist, and jammed it across my jaw, and in the span of 3 seconds my shutters faded into black as if I was injected with unconsciousness.

The eyes — correction eye slowly opened only to catch a glimpse of Natalie and her two friends standing infront me. There was loud music thus I knew we were still at the party, and I could hear Enrique Igleslias’s soothing voice which was a sensation for the wound.

“You alive still hero?’

“Yeah. Just about. How long was I out?’

“Like 30 minutes, don’t worry he just started with Enrique so you didn’t miss much”

“I’m really sorry about that…It was really really stupid’

‘Shit happens. Now get up, and drink up. My birthday deserves it.’

Natalie pulled me up, as I saw the lively tourists trying to become accustomed to life at the resort. Her friends had those two Cuban guys by their side and those guys were rotating shots. I looked around to make sure giant wasn’t there anymore because I had enough embarrassment for that night to last me 5 high school yearbooks.

She gave me a smirk, and began walking across the beach turned dance floor.

“Vamos Amigos!”

She yelled out as her friends and her went wild on the floor, and I stood on the side fascinated by everything about her. The weirdest part was, I didn’t know why. It was just a girl I had met in the morning with whom I had a couple conversations. I didn’t know if she liked me, I didn’t know if she was already in a relationship, I didn’t even know whether I liked her. I couldn’t describe it in words or express it. I didn’t flirt with her in fear of rejection yet I still admired her every breath.

The song faded and an upbeat Enrique song burst onto the floor. She approached me from the crowd and despite my upheaval still dragged me into the hurricane of tourists. Those 3 seconds felt right. Just right. Just perfect. Her hand on mines, dragging me through the place; my complete trust in her wherever it may be she took me.

“I cant dance!”

I really couldn’t, and I had enough embarrassment for the night.

“I can’t be a doctor but I still saved your ass. So dance”

“I really cant tho”

I gave her a polite smile and attempted to turn around and walk away when she grabbed my hand once more.

“For my birthday. Please. It’s balaindo. You know you love it”

I laughed at her cheekiness, and tried my best at keeping her attention. Rule 1. Keep it Simple. Rule 2. Lots and lots of smiling. Rule 3. When nothing works, just bust out a shimmy. Those 3 minutes cemented everything about her I became engrossed about. She didn’t care what people thought. She danced like there was no tomorrow, and without fear, inhibition and worry. I was captivated by her every step, trying to emulate each one in order to cultivate a cute reaction on her side. As the night went on and each song changed, I fell deeper and deeper into the hole I had dug for myself. I was dancing with everyone, enjoying each moment, drinking my hearts out and yet the future felt ambiguous. The wind breezed against her as each song got louder and louder until the last beat faded & the crowd erupted in joy.

I knew I needed to make my move, because if I kept hovering over admiration I would be stuck as the dance partner she had met on that one trip. I knew I was charming enough to make this work. For me it wasn’t over confidence or arrogance, I was saying it through genuine chemistry between us. I asked her if she wanted something to drink but she said no thus I went alone to grab myself a pina colada. One of her friends approached me at the bar, leaving her male sex slave waiting with a drink on the dance floor.

“So how’s the impressing Natalie plan going?”

Now, that’s how you catch a guy off guard. I looked around to make sure no one else was around.

“ – you noticed…? I thought it was pretty low-key”

“Low key? You haven’t taken your eyes off her.”

“ I should use that line on her!”

“You should. And then she’ll feel awkward and you’ll regret it.”

She confused me for a moment, awkward wasn’t really in the equation between me and her, and regret isn’t something I believe in.

“Why. . . would she feel awkward?”

“Well, Miguel and the fact that’s just weird.”

“Miguel?”

I didn’t know why but my heart started thumping again in quick repitions as if it was anticipating something worthy of shock and it was preparing damage control

“She hasn’t told you has she. . .? – You do know she has a boyfriend right?”

She was lying. I just knew she was. She was also extremely drunk like – her sex slave had 3 drinks in his hand and that was just for the last song. Her words didn’t mean anything to me, yet I felt an unusual sensation. A sensation without solace; one which shivered me for no reason, as if my camouflage had just gotten stripped away.

“Yeah, good joke.”

“I’m not joking. She has a boyfriend. They’re taking a break – but – they have a future”

“Then why was she flirting with me?”

“She wasn’t flirting with you at all, she was— ”

“NO! I know what being friends is and being friendly is and that was something else is.”

“You guys just met today . . .”

I grabbed my drink, looked past at her walked into the crowd again in inner anger. I tried to desperately blockade any bull shit her drunk friend told me but I couldn’t get over them. She was lying. She must have been. Why would she have a boyfriend? She was dancing with me like a few moments ago. And she helped me recover. She must like me. I gave her a faint smile as she continued dancing, and kept wondering what the truth actually was whilst my eyes were still transfixed on her. I was standing a few feet away from her and my voice was far from transparent. I was struggling for thought and incapable of speaking whilst everyone around me drowned themselves in celebration. My watch read 11:59 as we clicked down the time, to a new day; one which felt uniquely special to me. The old song ended, and a ballad starting playing; Enrique Iglesias’s Hero. This was my moment; her birthday, a romantic song, a sweet atmosphere. Just lean in for the kiss and you’re set.

5. 4. 3. 2. 1

The DJ. Counted down the seconds to the new day, as the eve of midnight abide its goodbye. The whole beach catapulted a few inches up in celebration as the hundred dancers and fifty intoxicated ones were revered in glee. Natalie had a wide eyed smile on her face, as her friends hugged her tight and I stood a shadow away waiting for my moment. My moment to showcase to her how I truly felt and how special our camaraderie really was. She looked at who was next in line and hugged me, a feeling of warmth which could be replaced by no other, affection worth waiting a lifetime for, an intoxicating allure that no other woman showed.

She brought her head back away from my shoulders, and I leaned in. I closed my eyes, but she moved hers away. She turned her head to the side and the smile suddenly disappeared. I wondered what I did but figured she was just really drunk. Her senses were probably fooling with her, and upon the party’s end I could try for the actual kiss. Maybe she didn’t even realize I was leaning in.

For the rest of the night she danced with her friends, and was probably too drunk to even notice other people. I mean we’d only met a few hours ago and her friends had longevity. She did smile at me whenever we crossed eyes, probably waiting my move.

As the party ended, the beach was vandalized by parade, alcohol and a plethora of celebratory aftermath. I walked back with Natalie, her friends and their sex slaves to their room. Me and her made small talk on the way back about the party, how I was feeling after my ‘fight’ and whether she was drunk. Turns out she wasn’t; which I found weird because then she would have noticed my lean but whatever. Within a few seconds we arrived at her room; her friends entering their respective ones with their boy toys. We stood outside as there was an air of silence, and my hands began to shiver.