Easier like this
There are many questionable choices he’s made in his life, but in this moment, nothing has ever felt more ill-timed.
His head is still halfway in the toilet bowl.
“Asshole,” the voice calls out again. He can hear a pair of heels clacking against the concrete floor — frustrated tapping mixed with the loud house music coming from the dance floor, neither of which is helping the terrible pounding in his head.
He twists his arm just right so he can raise a thumbs-up behind his back.
“You could’ve thrown up literally anywhere else,” the voice rags on. There’s a loud huff. “It’s what the large vases are for.”
“Do you really think I can hold a proper conversation about where I’m allowed to throw up right now?” he wants to ask, but it just comes out as a pathetic, “Fgrhgurgdh.”
The girl sighs, and in his heart he recognises it as exasperation. “Sorry everyone, he’s gonna take a while,” he hears her say, earning hushed complaints and grunts from the rest of the line that has no choice but to disperse. Not long after, a plastic water bottle enters his currently very blurry peripheral vision. “Classic Alistair — always making people wait.”
— — —
This is the story of Hannah and Alistair:
Their friends called them a power couple. They dismissed the uncommon declarations of admiration with a small wave of the hand while claiming — fully aware it’s a stolen line from that one movie soundtrack — we sure are cute for two ugly people. They met at the coolest student bar at the time, got together a few months after, broke up, got back together, went on a short break, returned to each other’s arms again, almost moved in together until he chose an overseas job offer over her, all of which happened in the span of four years of university. To Hannah, Alistair was an asshole for breaking things off with her. To Alistair, it’s not like she was completely off the hook — she didn’t even try to win him back.
He did contemplate responding to her Instagram stories a couple of times, mostly when he was under influence. That’s the thing about them — she never felt the need to unfriend him completely from her social media accounts, and he didn’t want to make things more severe by cutting ties with someone whose heart he voluntarily broke. They’d never seen each other after that faithful day though, so really, this whole puking-in-front-of-her incident is the comical cherry on top of his pitiful joke of a life.
What else could have explained what happened last night? After he threw up, she handed him a bottle of water, and he didn’t even get to say thanks before she said, “Don’t mention it.” It wasn’t aggressive — he could actually hear a smile in her voice, and he wouldn’t admit it but something stirred in Alistair’s very drunk heart.
Knowing he wouldn’t last long, he went back to his friend to quickly say goodbye, and just as he was stopping a taxi, he spotted her walking out of the bar with her friends. He didn’t recognise which friends, though, but their eyes met, and he sent a farewell gesture at her. It felt more symbolic, now that he thinks about it, because she reciprocated — nodded back.
So this morning, in this cramped studio apartment, accompanied by a pile of weeks-old laundry he hasn’t done and in an oddly elevated state of confidence, Alistair chooses to open his laptop and continues polishing his resume.
— — —
Today’s schedule for Alistair was eat, exercise, eat, do some grocery shopping, attempt at giving the corporate dreams another shot, fail, eat a sad dinner, and then fall asleep binging Netflix.
“Sounds a lot like you in college,” comments Hannah. They’re in the dairy section of the supermarket, standing at least one arm length away from each other, cushioned by the awkward air. Alistair’s digital watch is telling him he’s right on time for grocery shopping. He didn’t, however, get the memo that meeting your ex while you reach for the strawberry yoghurt she introduced you to would be part of the calendar event.
There’s something about trying to ignore a certain someone’s existence and somehow, out of nowhere, certainly because the universe enjoys playing a joke on you, this person keeps showing up in places you frequent. This is the second time he’s seen Hannah this month. That’s two times too often. It’s ridiculous and uncalled for — the familiar kind of excitement bubbling in his chest.
Alistair chuckles at the comment. “Well, I haven’t changed much,” he says sheepishly. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you here.”
Hannah swiftly glances at the yoghurt in Alistair’s basket before bringing his eyes back to meet Alistair’s. There’s a friendly curl at the corner of her mouth as she says, “Neither did I.”
Deep down, Alistair wishes she’d sound more hostile. It’s easier when he’s convinced she hates him anyway.
“I’ll see you around,” she quietly continues, taking a few steps back. Her hair is tied in a loose ponytail, he notices, and is falling in all the places that make her look pretty. “The new peach flavour is nicer, by the way.”
Goddamnit, Alistair thinks. The thought doesn’t really go anywhere, until he steps out of the store without looking back, afraid he wouldn’t find her staring back at him.
This is part II of Wordbiting’s ‘Big city romance, small town heart’ fiction relay. Find part I (A chance encounter) here.
