Acquaintances

I haven't been doing nearly as much story writing as I used to. However, upon looking through my old Facebook notes, I found quite the collection of short tales that I had written and posted on there. This one was from three years ago. I wrote it as a means of finally letting go of some anger I held from my college days.

I hope you enjoy, and try not to mind the grammatical errors.

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Within the bustling metropolitan of New York City there resides a small café. Not too far out of the way from the main foot-traffic, the café generates good business amongst the throngs of city-dwellers. Business brought in mostly by actors and other pretentious types who find small cafes such as this to be within their realm of “good taste”, patronage was slow on this particular day.

Sitting at a table outside, enjoying the warm late-June air, were two women.
The first was a beautiful young woman in her mid-twenties. Her long curly black hair brought back into a ponytail accentuating the delicate curve of her face. Her bright blue eyes shone with happiness that they hadn’t only a couple years prior. Dressed in somewhat popular attire, she came across as attempting to have her own style while still maintaining the status quo of fashion.

The second was another young woman, also in her mid-twenties. Her short blonde hair pulled back on top but not around the sides as it reached to about her shoulders. Her blue eyes, not as bright as the first woman’s, danced in the sunlight. Dressed in equally pseudo-fashion, she seemed to match her friend.

The two women sat over cups of whatever beverage they had decided upon, possibly tea, and talked of nothing in particular. It seemed to be a ritual they shared, coming to this café, discussing life, enjoying their overpriced cups of beverage, and generally whiling the day away with no particular purpose.

The conversation itself was inconsequential. Anyone listening in would only hear talk of people they didn’t know and events they weren’t present for. One of those irritatingly annoying discussions, spoken in a language only the two young women would understand. Not that anyone within earshot would care or want to understand, the two continued on as if their conversation were the most important one they’d ever had.

“You look good, Melanie,” a voice spoke up from somewhere behind the two young women.

They turned to see a young man, possibly early twenties, sitting at a table not far from them. Bringing a cigarette to his lips, he lit it with an almost purposeful nonchalance. His eyes, initially directed toward nothing in particular on the ground, now slowly arched upward to meet their gaze. The bombardier blue within those eyes held a secret not yet revealed to anyone but himself.

The young woman with the curly dark hair blinked once.

“Jack? Jack Norin?” she asked.

“Ah, I’m glad you remember me,” the young man answered, standing and moving toward their table.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Melanie asked him, almost dumbstruck by surprise.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” the young man continued, a slight smile dancing across his lips, “I don’t mean to be rude. Hi, my name is Jack.”

He extended his hand to Melanie’s friend, who took it sheepishly, not knowing exactly the circumstances of the situation she was faced with.

“Claudia,” she responded.

“It’s nice to meet you, Claudia. Again, I don’t mean to be rude. Melanie and I were acquaintances a couple of years ago, before she came to live here.”

“Jack…what are you doing…”

“I hope you don’t mind, Claudia. I would like to take Melanie here aside for a word in private, if that’s all right with you. We’ll be right over there,” he indicated a table at the far end of the café’s outdoor area.

Before Claudia could respond, let alone consent, Jack had gently, almost hypnotically led Melanie out of her seat and away from her table to the far side. They sat at the chosen table, across from each other. Jack sat with an air of mystery about him, never taking his eyes off of Melanie, who couldn’t seem to keep her eyes on Jack for more than a moment.

“You look good, Melanie,” he repeated.

A deeply uncomfortable pause hung in the air.

“Jack…why are you here? Did you follow me?”

He chuckled lightly, “Following would indicate that I had an existing reason to come up here when we last saw each other. No, I did not follow you, Melanie. Though I am here for a reason.”

Becoming even more uncomfortable, she seemed to squirm in her seat as if it were electrocuted.

“Let me ask you something. What was your issue with me when we knew each other? You once gave me an answer, but looking back I’d have to say it was less-than-truthful,” he smiled and pulled the ashtray on the table closer to him.

“Is that why you’re here? To ask me that?”

He chuckled again, “Oh no, not at all. My business with you is completely separate from this line of questioning. I’m just…curious.”

She stayed silent at first. Pulling out his pack of cigarettes he held it out to her, offering politely. She shook her head and he retracted it, removing one for himself before replacing it within his jacket pocket.

Continuing, “Over the past couple of years, I’ve come to some revelations about myself, who I once was, etcetera, and I have my own theories as to why you treated me the way you did. However, I want to hear what it really was before I go drawing conclusions.”

“I thought you were rather immature,” she at last spoke, “You acted like an idiot every chance you had. You couldn’t conduct yourself like an adult.”
Nodding in understanding, the young man took a drag of his cigarette. The tension hung in the air almost as heavily as the smoke from his roll of tobacco.

“That was part of my theory. The other, I believe, had to do with you thinking you were better than most people. You looked down on people like me. Never gave them a chance. Never allowed yourself to see who they truly were because such effort wasn’t a valuable use of your time.”

He continued to gaze at her, a gaze that could pierce tempered steel.

“I don’t think…I don’t think that’s true, Jack.”

“Maybe so, but nonetheless that’s how you and your friends came across. Too good for everyone else. But regardless, that issue is behind us.”

Another drag on his cigarette, slowly letting the smoke billow from his mouth as he exhaled. Each breath, look, move he made seemed almost calculated to make her more uncomfortable.

“I ask you now; do I seem any different than I did then?”

She seemed a bit taken aback at the question, as if expecting something completely different from him.

“What?”

“I know it’s rather egotistical to ask such a thing, Melanie, but indulge me. Do I seem at all different than when we last saw each other?”

“I can’t answer that, Jack. We’ve only been talking for a few minutes.”

He laughed aloud and nodded, “Ah, yes. That’s very true. As an actress, you more than anyone else, would understand that to fully understand a character one must read between the lines. Below the lines. Beyond the lines. Am I correct?”

She nodded slowly.

“And not only their lines, but their interactions with others. How can I expect you to answer such a question when this is the first time you’ve seen me in however many years.”

Putting the cigarette out, he leaned back. A silence fell upon the conversation as the two only looked at each other.

“I have to be honest and tell you that the way you acted, the way you and your friends treated me was very hurtful, Melanie.”

His tone had taken a turn for the serious. No longer did he smile an amused smile. No longer did his bombardier blue eyes mask the feelings he had been hiding.

“Look…Jack, you say that you’re different than you were,”

“I never said that.”

She stopped, collecting her thoughts, “But you have to understand that I’m not the same person I once was either. Looking back, the person I was fills me with disgust. You were right: I did look down on you. And I guess…I guess I’m sorry for that. Maybe you did irritate me with how you acted but that was no excuse.”

She cut herself off, as if there was more to be said, but kept herself from saying it. Her eyes no longer were able to look upon him, now only staring into the table between them. The moment lingered as an eternity as neither said anything.

“Well,” he rose from his seat, “The business I had with you unfortunately cannot be concluded. It was nice seeing you again, Melanie.”

Taking out another cigarette, he lit it.

“I must be going. If you need anything, here’s my card,” pulling out his wallet and producing a business card. Carefully placing it in front her, he smiled a knowing smile and walked away, quickly disappearing into the crowds.

Watching him until he was out of sight, Melanie turned her attention to the business card. Picking it up, she realized it only had a single word on it.

Forgiveness.