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We’re meeting at 3890 11th Street in Barnevelt. See you soon!
Julia quickly Googled the address and laughed when she saw the location. It turned out to be a charming mom-and-pop hamburger joint, just fifteen minutes closer than The Tipsy Hatter. She let out a sigh as she perched on the edge of her bed. It was out of the community lines. There would be no students, no parents, no co-workers lurking around. They could talk about everything that happened without fear of anyone overhearing.
It wasn’t anything fancy, which took a truckload of pressure off of her. There’d be no chance of touching in a burger joint. There’d be no stolen glances over full-bodied glasses of wine, no wishful brushes of skin. That’d make it easier. So much easier. She hoped.
Julia - 5:32 p.m.
Wow! No need to go all out.
Erin - 5:32 p.m.
Ha! It is a work meeting, remember.
Julia - 5:33 p.m.
Touche. See you soon.
Stepping out onto the front porch, Julia locked the door behind her. She turned to her car, the wind grasping her hair and obscuring her view momentarily. Clutching several papers in her hand–teacher schedules and school plans required for their meeting–she struggled to stuff them into her bag, fighting against the relentless wind that threatened to snatch them away into the night.
Raising her gaze while reaching for the car door, Julia noticed the red flag on the mailbox–its vivid hue, a neon sign beckoning her from a distance.
Don’t do it.
She wasn’t sure how long she stood there staring at it, her breath growing shallower with each second. Her chest tightened as she dropped her hand, defeated.
Dammit.
With slow, measured steps, she approached the mailbox and lifted its lid. She stared at the envelope, exactly where she had left it. A part of her had hoped that it would vanish, out of her desperate grasp, like a letter sent to Hogwarts. But it wasn’t. It was there.
She pulled the envelope from the box, gently tucking the flag back to its rightful place.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow was another day.
Chapter Six
Julia stood at the corner of the restaurant, peeking through the large foggy window at Erin in the back corner. The room buzzed with friends and families, young and old, laughing over unheard conversations. The red and white striped rubber benches gleamed, contrasting against maroon walls. An LED pizza slice flashed above her, shadowing her face in a subtle red glow.
Erin sat with her legs crossed beneath the table, one foot tapping the floor. She stared at the door, sipping a beer she gripped in her hand. Julia almost thought she looked nervous as she tapped her pen over the papers before her. Her brow furrowed as she lost herself in thought, small wrinkles forming like squiggly lines on her forehead.
Julia couldn’t help but wonder if it was the good kind of nervousness, like Erin couldn’t wait to see her smile again. With her luck? It was nervousness from having to break off from this very messy situation. Maybe she wasn’t interested in women–a mistake made under too much chardonnay and bad lighting. Maybe she regretted how much older Julia looked sober, crows feet resting at the corners of her eyes. Maybe she didn’t have a reason at all, and that was okay, too.
She opened the door, a bell jingling above as she released it. She bore all the confidence she manifested on the drive over. By manifestation, she breathed ‘this will be fine’ over and over on repeat like a trashy Brittany song. She screamed it to the wind as she drove with the windows down, cooling down her already heated cheeks.
Erin looked up and smiled. Not a fake hey, I’m doing this out of obligation, but a smile that said I would definitely do it all over again. Julia knew the feeling. Oh, she could still get lost in its embrace.
Get it together!
Erin’s hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, her shirt partially tucked in the front; not messily scrunched in like Julia’s was when they first met. No, everything about Erin was deliberate, as if she hand-picked the location of each stray strand of hair that framed her face, the freckles dotting her chest. She had no makeup on, but her skin seemed to glow so naturally, beaming against her flawless smile.
Julia was wrong before. Her freckles weren’t stars; they’re millions of distant galaxies shining, each brighter than the last. She wanted to trace those freckles and see what path they took beneath her clothes–to witness how they wrapped around her tanned skin in a Milky Way pattern–how they shined in the light. She wanted to stare at them until she could map out their very resting place in the night sky, until she could draw it out by memory.
As their eyes locked, Julia could see the twinkle in Erin’s piercing gaze, the corners of her eyes lifting with her smile. She was stunning. No, not stunning. She was everything.
It would, undoubtedly, not be fine.
“I’m happy you found the place.” Erin beamed, standing to meet Julia at eye level.
“I love the location.” Julia pushed her jacket onto the bench as she slid towards the wall. She wiped her already sweaty palms on the sides of her jeans.
