Лаура Миллер - My Butterfly

He took a second.

“Should be,” he said. “It’s Monday. We’re usually all here toward the beginning of the week. It only gets pretty thin toward the end.”

“Aah,” I said, nodding my head.

He started to turn but hesitated.

“You need help finding someone?” he asked.

“Uh, no,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s okay. Thanks though.”

“No problem,” he said.

I watched him turn again and trot up the hill and eventually disappear onto the track.

The note in my hand was getting crumpled and sweaty. I tried to smooth out its wrinkles as I continued my trek up the hill to a set of tall, metal gates.

I reached the entrance about a minute later. The gates were open, so I walked in. And a few steps later, I stopped at a shorter fence that looked as if it wrapped all the way around the track.

I quickly scanned the whole place first. I was looking for a blonde with those little shorts she always wore. But there were so many people in one, small area, and they all seemed to be wearing the same, little shorts.

My eyes eventually got stuck on the grassy field inside the track. There was a guy there throwing a long spear. I watched as the spear left his hands and landed in a spot in the grass almost a hundred yards away from him. Then, my gaze ventured to my right, and I spotted a girl catapulting herself high into the air and over a bar. The thought of being that high in the air on top of that narrow of a stick made me cringe.

I quickly forced my eyes away from the high bar then and scanned the rest of the track until I stumbled onto her. There she was, at the far end of the field. She was stretching. She looked beautiful. Maybe she would come to dinner with me tonight. Maybe she’d even ask me to stay. I smiled and let go of an excited breath. Then, I gripped the note tighter in my hand and stepped even closer to the fence. But I kept my eyes planted on her. She was wearing her little shorts and a tee shirt with the university’s mascot on it. And she looked as if she was talking to someone behind a big mat, but I couldn’t tell who it was. She was smiling, though, and it made me smile wider.

I watched her for a few more seconds. Then, someone stood up from behind the mat. It kind of looked like the guy I had just run into. He was wearing the same shorts and tee shirt, and he had that blondish, reddish hair. My eyes followed him as he walked closer to Julia. She must have been talking to him — and she was still talking to him. I felt my smile start to fade.

I narrowed my eyes and watched as Julia stood up too. She played with her hair for a second and then positioned it on top of her head again. Her playing with her hair forced a grin back to my face.

I watched then as she walked over to the fence nearest to her and pulled something out of it, while I nervously tapped the note in my hand with my thumb and thought about what to do next.

Eventually, my eyes left Jules and went to the note. I stared at it for a second. Then, I forced it open and read over its words one more time:

I finished reading the last, few words. Then, I folded the note, tightly clutched it inside my sweaty palm and looked up.

Jules was talking to that guy again. I hesitated as my head instinctively tilted to the side.

The guy who she had said she was dating a while ago, did she say he was on the track team? Could she still be dating him? I narrowed my eyes and focused my attention on the guy. He was smiling — at Julia. I shifted my weight to my other leg and gripped the fence in front of me. I watched as he took a step closer to Julia. My fingers clutched the fence tighter. He was still smiling, but now, he was suspiciously looking around. What was he doing? I narrowed my eyes even more, praying that it would help me to see into his plan. It didn’t work.

My stare followed him as he took one more, quick glance around the track. And then he moved in, attacking Julia on the lips. My body stiffened, and my breaths stopped. Hit him, Jules. Hit him.

I let go of the fence and started quickly around its perimeter toward Jules. But I only got several yards before I stopped. She didn’t look angry. In fact, she was smiling. She was acting as if him kissing her were normal, as if it were just another day or something. My heart plummeted to the ground at my feet as I squeezed the note in my hand. And suddenly, the earth started spinning. I grabbed hold of the fence again and allowed my eyelids to fall over my eyes for several moments. And when the earth had finally stopped careening and had come to a halt again, I opened my eyes. But now, I felt as if I were in some kind of weird vacuum, though it appeared as if nothing around me had changed. Everything seemed the same. Everyone looked normal — each person doing the same thing he or she had been doing before the earth had spun out of control. In fact, each figure looked as if it belonged exactly where it was. I was the one who didn’t belong. My eyes fell back onto Jules. She was laughing. I took in a deep breath and held it in my chest for as long as I could. Then, I cautiously let it slip past my lips. I was the one who didn’t belong.

And in the next moment, I found the note again in my hand and quickly shoved it into my back pocket. Then, I turned and made a beeline for the parking lot. At the same time, I battled back the mist in my eyes, which worsened with each stride.

“Julia.”

I stopped suddenly and slowly set the can of chili back onto the shelf. The voice had come from an aisle over. I rushed to the end of the row, stopped and took a quick check of myself. I looked pretty rough, but what could I do now? I took off my cap and refit it over my head again. Then, I sauntered casually into the aisle, as if I were looking hard for something. And when I couldn’t take it anymore — several seconds later — I looked up and spotted a woman and a young girl. My heart sank.

“Hi, Will,” the woman said.

“Ms. Evans,” I said, tipping my baseball cap.

She smiled at me and then glanced at the girl next to her.

“Oh, Will, I don’t think you’ve ever really met my daughter,” she said. “Sweetie, this is Will. He’s the firefighter that came to our house that one time.”

The girl blankly eyed me. I could tell she didn’t remember me. She was only a little girl back then.

“Will, this is my daughter, Julia,” the woman continued.

I swallowed hard.

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

The girl smiled wide, though she seemed a little nervous. I watched as she tossed her hands behind her back and then tried to shove them into her pockets before finally crossing her arms in front of her. I guessed she was maybe in junior high or some age around it.

My eyes eventually traveled back to the woman.

“How have you been?” I asked.

“Oh, great,” she said.

She moved closer to me and squeezed the part of my arm near my bicep.

“You’ve been stayin’ safe, right?” she asked.

Her eyes seemed more like they were commanding something rather than asking it.

I smiled and nodded.

“Good,” she said, releasing my bicep and continuing down the aisle. “Tell your mom I said ‘hi.’”

“I will,” I said, softly, as my eyes turned down to the white tiles on the floor.

I took a deep breath in and then let it out before I looked up again. The girl was still there, and she flashed me another wide smile.

I smiled back, then tipped my cap and hastily made my way down the aisle, past the registers and out the doors. I didn’t stop until I was back in my truck.

Once I was behind the wheel, I grabbed it with both hands. I wanted to curse as loud as I could, but I didn’t. I knew enough to know that the walls had ears, as did my sixth-grade teacher putting groceries into her trunk two cars down from mine.

I fought for my keys inside my jeans pocket, and after a brief struggle, shoved one into the ignition.

She wasn’t just a name attached to a face — although, I was pretty sure she was never just that. But even so, now she was also a memory, the worst kind of memory — the kind that pulled you to your knees at just the sound of her name.

I backed Lou out of the spot faster than I should have and sped out of the parking lot. And I sped all the way to my house and eventually landed in the driveway. Jeff’s truck was already there. I sighed and made my way into the house.

“You’re out of chili,” Jeff informed me when I entered the room. “And everything else. Are you hiding all your food from me at your apartment in St. Louis?”

He was lounging on a chair in the living room; his legs were sprawled out over its arms. I didn’t answer him. Instead, I charged straight through the house and out the back door.

Within seconds, I reached the two, wooden lawn chairs at the edge of the lake and fell into one. Then, I immediately threw my elbows to my knees and used my hands to bury my face.

Minutes went by, though it had felt like hours, before I heard Jeff’s voice behind me.