Nyctophilia

wonderland

I had to get out of the house. There was no way I could stay there. Maybe I was overreacting but the fact that Sebastian's mom and my mom were best friends was too overwhelming. I was happy for my mom, sure, but I, being the coward that I am, wanted to avoid and ignore any sort of situation that could link me to Sebastian after what had happened in arts class. Ignoring my mom's calls, I walked fast through Lancaster streets. Feet clicking the floor so hard it was almost painful. I wanted to get away from whatever I thought was bothering me and the only way I could do that was focusing on something else.

When I reached Lancaster's entertainment area where several pubs, movie theaters, restaurants and other attractions could be found, I knew I was pretty far away from home. I decided to go into The Coffee Boy, one of the most famous cafés in Lancaster and what used to be mom's competition. I walked inside and I was stunned by how packed the place was. There were no tables or chairs available and I was sure as hell I wasn't going to ask any person that had a free chair if I could sit down with them. As I was about to leave, I spotted a table at the corner of the establishment, almost next to the bathroom doors. Sure it was gross but at this point, did I really care about it anymore? The answer was no.

I ordered my coffee and went back to sit down at the table.
As I waited for it to cool, I glanced over the faces of each person who was sitting down at the café. A mother who was feeding her child, a girl who texted as fast as thunder with a grin on her face, a guy with headphones on, bopping his head to the music and an old man whose hands shaked when raised his cup to take a sip of his tea. And I wondered, does she realize how lucky she is for having a kid? And how many bitters and sweets her daughter will give her? And how at the end of the day, when she'll come tired from work, she'll look at her daughter and it won't matter anymore because she knows her love is waiting for her everyday at home?
I looked at the girl and my heart danced. She couldn't be older than 15 years old and she looked incredibly happy. What if she just got asked for the Thanksgiving ball? And by the boy she liked? What if her favorite artist is coming to town? What if she was texting her best friend about some juicy gossip? What if. Two words that I often thought about.
I suddenly turned to the guy with the bopping head and I asked myself, could he be listening to his favorite band? His favorite song? Does it bring him memories of beautiful times? Who did he spend those moments with? Is he thinking about a special person that made his heart flutter every time they sang the lyrics together?
And lastly, the old man. He looked peaceful and groovy.  I wondered if he had seen war? Had he lost the love of his life to life itself? Does he look at our generation and thinks about the times when he was part of the generation of "the reckless teens"? Does he miss it? Or how, after all the experiences he had lived, he could sit there, in a café, at 9 pm, on a chilly Thursday night, looking like he had the time of his life just yesterday?
I was quickly shaken out of my thoughts when a tall woman spoke to me with the classiest voice I had ever heard. It was clear she had money. She wore a Rolex watch and a Gucci bag. I had never seen such a sophisticated woman.
"Is this seat taken?" She asked, looking at me with hopeful eyes and a kind smile.
"Uh, no." I said, ashamed as I realized how underdressed I actually was compared to her.
"Oh, thank you. I realized there were no available tables just after I finished ordering my chocolate". She explained while taking a sip of her mug.
"Yeah, haha. It's okay." I quickly replied while realizing that the fact she was sitting in front of me, had made room for some small talk, which I hated.
As the silence settled I had a good chance to look at her. Even with the poor lighting of the place, you could tell she was a beautiful woman. She couldn't be past 50. She had beautiful, tawny skin that glowed and reflected light like a diamond. Long curly hair that framed her soft features like a dream. Warm chocolate eyes that looked like precious stones and a kind smile that reached her eyes.
I was 100% straight, but that woman could easily be the prettiest one I had ever seen.
I was startled when she caught me staring, which for some reason, she didn't mind.
She pulled out a book. "1984". I had read that book countless of times when I was in rehab. My sister had sent it to me and I fell in love with it.
Out of nowhere I felt worthy of speaking to the woman in front of me who looked like a freaking work of art.
"1984? It's actually one of my favorite books." I said looking at the cover, thinking of the memories I had lived with that book.
"Really? I just started it and I'm obsessed! I love military books. Makes me think of how damned humanity was and how we haven't changed at all."
"Yeah, I agree."
After that we spent the night talking about what we liked and what we thought about the world. Politics, art, music and pop culture were topics that would come up frequently while we conversed.
I found out she was a chemist who was never able to pursue her career after she had married a rich man and had to take care of her son.
She never got to do what she wanted to which led her to isolate herself from others and leave her kid to grow up with the nanny.
I looked at her and I couldn't believe those beautiful eyes had cried countless of nights thinking about how she'd have to wake up the next day and restart the vicious cycle of life.
We talked and talked. It was strange for me to talk that much, but for some I couldn't seem to stay quiet. She was naturally a very charismatic person and it felt refreshing to talk to someone who didn't know who I was.
As we were about to dive into another topic we realized we were the last ones at the café, that should've closed 20 minutes ago.
We got up and as we resurfaced to the freezing night we both shivered. I waved her a short goodbye to the nameless woman who seemed to understand me better than almost any other person in the world, except for Jason probably.
As I walked down the sidewalk I saw her car pass beside me and pull up next to the sidewalk.
"Do you want a ride?" She asked.
"Oh, it's okay. I can walk from here. I stuttered. Between the arctic night and the hope she'd let me go, it was practically impossible for me to talk.
"I insist, you and I sure had some fun over there talking. Anything for a friend." She said with a lively tone.

I knew she would give in so I hopped inside her car. Apart from the Bowie song that was playing, the ride back home was silent. As I took in the duskiness of the night, my mind went right back to him. Sebastian. The guy I had hurt not so long ago who wanted to be nothing but a friend to me.

As I was about to ask the woman for some advice about the situation, we pulled up onto the driveway of my house. I thanked her for the ride and as I smacked the door against it's frame, she lowered the window and asked me:
"Hey! Before you leave, can I get your name?"
"Spencer Fazer, you?" I replied.
"Amelia Cornell. Say hi to Lucia from me." She said laughing as she hit the pedal to drive off into the night.

And then it hit me. I had just befriended Sebastian's mom.

*Check the first chapter "CAST" for an inside look to nyctophilia's cast!