She stared at me until she fell asleep. I think her name was Melanie. I avoided making eye contact with her as much as I possibly could out of fear she would try to strike up a conversation with me. I wanted her to leave, but at three in the morning, I wouldn't trust anybody on the street with someone as attractive as her roaming around. Plus, she was tired. I just let her rest, and hoped that she would leave before I woke up. I met her at my friend Eli's birthday party. It was my last night in town, and Eli claimed I seemed down.
"What'd'ya mean?" I had asked him.
He sighed before he chuckled, "I know why you came back," he said. "And I'm sorry you couldn't find her."
"Find who?" I asked, fully aware of who he was referring to. He watched me until I looked away and took a sip of beer. It had a bad taste on the way down.
"Look," he said, "I know you. And you're bummed. And I know why. As soon as you hopped in my car, you asked if I had heard from Andrea. And you've asked about her at least once a day since you've been here. You're leaving tomorrow, kid," he patted my back in what I supposed to be some form of comfort. "You need to have some fun."
I took another swig and chuckled. "Thanks for the concern, but I'm fine."
"That's great and all," he said, "but it's too late for that. I already told that pretty girl over there you needed some cheering up." He pointed to a brown haired girl in a red and black dress across the room. She was already looking in our direction, and smirked when we looked back.
I looked at Eli, half grateful and half annoyed. "You're kidding."
"Not a bit, my friend," he said. "Go have some fun on your last night." He walked away before I had any time to object. I rolled my eyes before meeting the brown haired girl halfway to the other side of the room.
"Hi," she smiled, "I'm Melanie," I assumed she said.
"Chris," I said, extending my hand to shake hers. "Nice meeting you."
"You from around here?" she asked, moving in closer. I could smell the beer on her breath.
"Nah, I'm actually visiting from New York," I said.
"Oh," she said. "Well, I live across the hall. You should visit more often." She actually batted her eyelashes at me.
I laughed, "I would if I could, because everyone I know is here. But I only come visit for my job."
"Oh, what do you do?"
"Photography. I work for a magazine in New York, and we had a shoot here in Chicago."
"That's cool," she said.
"Yeah." After an awkward pause, I took my last swig of beer.
"You wanna go back to my place?" she asked.
"I don't know if I should, I leave tomorrow."
"Oh, well then, we should go to wherever you're staying." I looked at her, ready to decline her offer, but she looked like she wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Alright," I said. My hotel is up the street, can you walk it?"
"Oh, sure. If I get tired, you can just carry me," she winked.
Oh, Christ. I gave a phony chuckle.
She wasn't completely wasted, but she was a little loud on the trip to the hotel. As soon as we got in the door, she jumped in my arms and started kissing me. What happened after that was a blur. All I remembered was skin and heat. When it was all over, she rolled over and said "Thanks for a good time." I pulled my jeans on, got up and walked to the balcony to have a smoke. She watched me stand there until she fell asleep. When I heard her soft, deep breaths, I turned around and watched her. She slept on top of the covers, completely naked, her long dark hair falling over her face and shoulders. She was strikingly beautiful; I couldn't help but stare. The way she was laid out on the bed put her at an angle that made her look like a painting. The streetlights shone on her body and emphasized her curvature. The soft light from the bathroom outlined her facial features.
I put out my cigarette and walked back into the room. I sat in a chair and I watched her. She meant nothing to me, but I just wanted time to stand still for a while, for me to just observe how beautiful she was. I grabbed my camera. I decided I would add her to my personal project that I was working on. It helped that I wouldn't remember her name the next time I saw the pictures. Her arm fell perfectly over her soft breasts and her leg was raised so that her hip curved out more than it already did. Her dress was slung carelessly over the nightstand. I decided I would paint my favorite shot of her when I got back to my loft in New York.
I placed the camera back on the small table when I was finished. I walked back to the balcony and lit another cigarette, when I heard a soft buzz from the floor. I thought it was her phone; my phone was in my pants pocket so I assumed I would feel the vibration in my pocket. I placed a hand on my leg and didn't feel the familiar bulge. I looked toward the spot on the floor where my pants had been, and I spotted my phone, the screen lit. It buzzed three more times before I could get to it.
The name and the picture that came up on my screen made my entire body freeze. I couldn't bring myself to answer the phone. I just stared at the picture that I took of me and Andrea at Navy Pier, and watched the blinking white letters shout "Andy" at me. The phone finally stopped buzzing, and I saw that I had three missed calls. I heaved a breathy sigh when I saw that all three calls were from her. I listened to the short voicemail she left me, saying that she heard I was in town, and that she was wondering if she could see me before I left. I slumped to the floor, a flood of confusing, contradictory emotions running through me. Before I could call her back, she texted me and apologized for waiting so long to find me. In that moment, I considered screwing up everything I had in order just to go back out and find her. In that moment, I told myself fuck the flight, fuck New York. You can find a new apartment here. Go get her. But that was the reason I was in New York in the first place; I told myself to go get her, and I fucked up. So I had to start over, and I left. Now, she was pulling me back in, and I didn't know if I wanted to resist it.
