lucid dreaming

chapter one

I'm swirling my straw around my cup of watered down whiskey. My eyes are following the plastic tube as it sails from side to side in its glass pool. It won't leave the pool until someone dumps it out, removes it, or inevitably throws it out in some way. I feel a moment of empathy for my little plastic straw. Then, some pity for myself. Empathy for a straw. At least it has a chance to be recycled. I'll be the one stuck at the bottom of the ocean forever.

After the wave of pity passes me, I find enough strength to lift my eyes. Normally I'd sit here, notebook in hand, writing commentary on everything I observe. I'm a certified people watcher on a regular occasion. But today when I look up, I feel like all eyes are on me.

I decide to call it quits on the fake smiles today and begin digging in my wallet. Just as I pinch the cash in my fingertips, I hear someone sit down next to me. They order their drink, and I put my cash on the bar. I lean over a bit, waving my hand slightly to let a bartender know I'm ready to close my tab. This said "tab" consisted of a Diet Coke and a whiskey on the rocks,but I know it'll run me for over $10 at least. I look at my cash again, double checking that it's a twenty dollar bill. And

then my people watching gets the best of me. I move my head slightly to my left, where the man who ordered his drink is sitting. Unfortunately, we must've had the same inclination. Our eyes lock and I feel a familiar drop in my stomach. I quickly look back down to my lap, fidgeting with the magnet button on my wallet. I'm silently willing the bartender to hurry up so I can escape those familiar eyes in a place where I came to escape familiarity, but I can never be too lucky.

"Olive?" the same low voice that ordered a drink two minutes before, says my name. I cautiously raise my head from where I was unknowingly hiding it in my arms and turn it back to the left.

"James!" I say, as brightly as I can muster. I came to this bar to avoid the last six years of my life. I guess it's safe to say the wake spans wider than ten miles.

"Where's the other half?" he says, a sly smile across his face. Like he's expecting Todd to round the bathroom corner at any second. His question nearly knocks the wind out of me. If I was standing, I'd surely have fallen to the ground. I haven't had to say it out loud yet. I texted Imogen on my way to the bar, but she said she had a party tonight. The words are unfamiliar to me as my voice wavers to answer.

"He's not... with me," I say, hoping he'll come to his own

conclusions and leave me with mine. Instead, he asks a follow up question, making this conversation even more difficult for me.

"Oh, is he in your room?" he questions, cluelessly. I don't know whether or not to disclose exactly whose room Todd is in right now.

"No," I say flatly, assuming James isn't about to kick up a round of 21 questions. A look of confusion takes over his earlier giddy expression. He can't come up with a conclusion, so I'll give him the thesis, "We broke up."

The words feel like glass in my throat. They nearly choke me, and I wonder if he can hear me gasp to catch my breath after I speak. Three words feels like a thousand tons on my chest.

James's eyebrow is raised, but his expression softens. "Oh, Olive, I'm sorry," he says, but I can hear his words catch like he wants to say more. "I thought you guys would be together forever," he finishes after his pause. The words hit me like cannon balls to the chest, because I did too. I genuinely did, too.

"Me too," I say, finally pushing my stool back, suddenly in a rush to make it back to my empty room, "I'm sorry, I was actually just-" he puts his hand on mine lightly. Light enough that I can tell he's about to pretend it was accidental, but