"PAUL WESTERBERG"-PART FIVE "ONE MONTH LATER-BASCOM HILL"

"PAUL WESTERBERG"

PART FIVE: ONE MONTH LATER-BASCOM HILL

TRACEY

    It’s not often when you have days like this but when they happen—man, I just grab ‘em!! Today, I had my last Final, in Philosophy of course. It has been a frantic few days as the luck of the draw gave me all of my exams over a three day period, just one on top of the other. But by the earl afternoon today, I was finished and now, I have a few days to just enjoy myself before my parents come to move me out and head back home. As my Mom always says, “Short term pain. Long term pleasure.” And this afternoon has been all about pleasure. 

    After my exam, I stepped out from Humanities and just sat in Library Mall. The fountain was in full swing. The food carts were out and I felt compelled to buy a small bag of strawberries from the fruit stand. I have a bunch of books I want to sell back to the bookstore but I decided to just wait until tomorrow because I didn’t want to deal with any lines let alone the end-of-semester shakedown from those pirates. But, hey, even a few dollars in the pocket are better than habitually feeling the growing collection of lint.

    I sat. I people watched and I chuckled a bit at seeing that girl from Focus Films racing around, taking down her posters from the kiosks before the Summer. Soon, I felt the need to take a walk but first, I needed some tunes. I popped into Exclusive, picked up “Don’t Tell A Soul,” got it into the player, put on my headphones and headed down State Street, through the Capitol and back again. Nothing more, nothing less. I’m a simple man with simple needs.

    Now, I’m starting up Bascom Hill as I head back to Tripp. All I want to do is just keep listening to my new tape and think about what I want t do for these last few days at school. Maybe a movie. Definitely the Union. Whatever else, who knows? It’s nice to not have a destination in mind sometimes and no clouds overhead, so to speak. That is, unless you count Abbey…

     Ever since Abbey Rhode McClintock found out that we lived in the same dorm, I have been inundated with her…and not just at my room, where she parks herself daily (uninvited, of course), blabbing away constantly as if we’re lifelong friends and all at the amusement of my roommate, who somehow finds it hilarious that I become so enraged with the mere mention of her. Hey, man. Thanks for the solidarity, especially as you’re just heading out of the door to meet with your Physics study groups for the rest of the night. And as for my floor mates? Let’s just say that I’m not too popular right now that I have essentially yet unwittingly unleashed the Kraken. Frankly, it hasn’t been much better during school either as she miraculously spotted me in two of my classes! And just like at my room, Abbey has parked herself next to me and just as miraculously has found it within herself to keep her mouth utterly silent for the duration of the class, ensuring that she is either not publicly embarrassed by the fatuous Professors at the podium or physically ejected by the T.A.s who I think gave me a small gaze of recognized empathy when they saw her skittering to her seat next to me. But, now, all of this matters none as my classes are over and again, I plan to make myself sparse over the next few days so and hopefully, by next year, she will be nothing more than a fading bad dream.

    Oh man…it can’t be…

    It’s her. Heather Harrison. And she’s walking down Bascom Hill directly towards me. Oh…sigh…

    Not only have I not heard from Heather ta all since that horrible night, I haven’t even seen her either, which has only convinced me that she was all in my mind. I looked for her after that night. I wasn’t brave enough to try and call her or send her a letter through campus mail but for whatever reason, I thought that if I saw her, maybe I could try to talk to her and then maybe we could try and start over, perhaps? But, I never saw her anywhere, no matter how hard I looked and hoped that I would see her again and it all made me feel as if I had never met her at all, something that only made me feel so sad because her face was still so present in my mind.

    But, the semester went on and I got busier and I just didn’t really have the time to devote more energy to something that would never be, something that just made me feel even sadder. Somehow, at some point I started to feel a little better but when she did re-appear inside of my head, I was crushed all over again. Like right now.

    There she is, walking my way, which means that Heather Harrison is unquestionably real. My first instinct was to run away or at least try to feign that I had forgotten something, the turn around and either head back to State Street or jog over to Helen C. but I thought better of it, because of how obviously false it would look. So, I just keep walking upwards, straight towards Heather.

    I’m almost afraid to look at her. She’s even prettier than how I remember her, especially as I see how the sunshine is hitting that auburn hair. Hmmm…is it longer now? God, I love how she looks with her glasses. And is that a “MASH” T-shirt under that denim jacket? Goes great with those camo cargos.

    What went wrong that night? Should I try to say something? Nothing? Maybe I should at least offer an olive branch. Perhaps a “no hard feelings” smile? Maybe I should just keep walking and dust her off for good for there’s no need to hurt myself all over again.

    Oh Heather…if you only knew…

HEATHER

    I knew that it was Tracey Wolf immediately from his walk. I had to do a double take at first to be certain since he was so far away but as I got closer and was 100% sure, I nearly froze in place. I feel so ashamed about how I behaved that night and I truly never wanted to hurt him. That’s not at all who I wanted Tracey to see that night. That’s not at all who I wanted to be.

    I just wanted to be the girl he met at the Union. The one who was loquacious, funny and charming, a little flirty and one who could elicit a certain allure at will. I wanted to be the girl that he would just ache to be with. The one he could not get enough of. The one he would pick up the phone and call, even if he had just seen me only minutes or moments before. I wanted to be the girl that he wanted to stay up all night with—to talk to—or…whatever, I guess. Damn if I know if I necessarily wanted to be Tracey Wolf’s girlfriend but even so, what does that even mean anyway? I just knew that I wanted him to like me, to want me, and I really don’t mean that in a selfish way. I just wanted to know if someone like him could ever really like someone like me because I liked him…so very much. So, I guess, yes…if I had the chance for him to be my boyfriend, I would take it. But because of what I did to him that night, that chance is long gone.

    Yet, it’s not so simple is it? Say I was who I was and he was who he was solely because of the day of the blizzard? What if that day was just a normal Spring day, would we have even met? He would’ve had his headphones on and I would have had my face in a book and we would have never known of each other’s existence. To think, all because of a freak blizzard.

    I haven’t seen Tracey anywhere since that night and now, he’s getting closer. Maybe I am seeing him again right now for a reason. Maybe there’s like some sort of strange door opening up and it is up to either him or myself to walk through before it closes forever. It’s Finals Week. If I don’t say something now, it is extremely possible that I might not ever see him again…and I don’t think that I want that to happen. No. Be honest with yourself, Heather. I know that I don’t want that to happen.

    But what if he hates me now? I wouldn’t blame him because I must have seemed certifiable to him, let alone rude as hell. Even so, I need to make myself say something. Even if it just to tell him that I am sorry.

    We’re getting so close to each other and whatever I’m going to do needs to happen in the next few moments or not at all. Uh oh…I think he’s looking at me. He is!! He’s looking at me and is that a smile, or maybe a grin?

    Say the words, Heather. Say the words. Tell him that you’re sorry about that night because even though that person was you, it really wasn’t. Tell him that the day of the blizzard was real. That you truly liked him and that you have thought about that day every day since it happened.

    He’s almost about to pass me and he’s starting to look away. Oh God, Heather!! Don’t be afraid now. You like him!!! So tell him!!! Tell him!!!

    Just say the words, Heather. Just say the words. 

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