Everything But Love

Chapter 4 - Cranberry Vodka

Chapter 4 - Cranberry Vodka

The following morning, I took my usual seat in class. I picked at my bandaged finger, pulling apart its loose threads. I almost wished a nonexistent bee allergy had killed me, but I was cursed with immunity. I fantasized the thought of death at the hands of a tiny insect -- a most pathetic and pitiful death. Would Janna come to my funeral?

I imagined her sullen figure walking up to my casket and peering over my cold, lifeless body. She would be wearing a shiny, black dress of satin and holding a yellow handbag. Every now and then, a tear would escape her eye and fall softly down her cheek like a raindrop. She would then carefully draw her gloved hand to her face and brush it away with a white handkerchief. She would blow me a kiss and slowly remove her gloves as she exited the chapel.

I felt chills cascading down my spine like an ice cube. A loud thud shook off my daydreams and I snapped back into reality.

"Sorry!" Came a shrill sounding voice from behind me.

I turned to see Celeste kneeling beside her cello, quickly unzipping its case to check for damages. Relief washed over her pale face as she collected herself off of the floor. She planted herself in the seat behind me and hastily began emptying out the contents of her bag. Among the great heap of colored pens and highlighters lay a single tube of lipstick and a spotted banana peel. She briskly shoved the banana peel and lipstick back into her purse, her eyes scanning the room for any onlookers.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair.

Celeste cleared her throat, eyeing me. "I saw you yesterday at the cafe," she paused. "I saw you with Janna."

I turned around and looked at her questioningly.

"You saw me?" I raised my eyebrows in confusion. Celeste knows Janna?

She nodded, now avoiding eye contact. "I was sitting outside with Julia trying to write the Poly Sci paper. I even tried waving, but I guess you had tunnel vision."

Then a great wave of guilt washed over me. I recognized the same look of disappointment plastered all over Celeste's porcelain face. You brushed her off last night, asshole.

"Besides, isn't she dating Emilio?" She crossed her arms in suspicion. "Did she get bored of him already?"

I ignored her question. "Celeste, how do you know Janna?"

She leaned back into her seat, twisting the ends of her hair.

"I don't know Janna. I know of her." She rolled her eyes. "But it's none of my business, really. Just be careful with girls like her, Dante," She warned to my annoyance.

At this point, I began to feel vexed by her. Celeste was nothing to me, we weren't even real friends. I wanted to tell her how wrong she was to judge Janna. I wanted to tell her how Janna's eyes had specks of gold in them, or how her skin glowed in the sunlight. I wanted to tell her how she always smelled like flowers and my daydreams -- but I didn't. I kept my mouth shut.

As I lay in bed, with a Camel planted between my lips, I let my daydreams fill me with her image, the melancholy aftertaste still burning on the tip of my tongue. I imagined the warmth of her skin on my fingertips, as I traced the oasis that was her body. I fantasized the sweet aroma radiating off of her clothes and hair. Would her lips taste like shades of pink, or hues of red?

My fantasies were interrupted by the unanticipated ringing of my phone. It had been a while since someone had actually tried calling me. Out of habit, I let it ring twice before even contemplating an interaction with the mysterious caller. I then placed the foreign object to my ear.