ETHEREAL

CHAPTER 4

The next day, Damien texts me: heyyyyy Skye, how are you today? What did you eat for breakfast?

I text back, I made blueberry waffles, and I had them with a banana & honey from Spain (it's from Williams Sonoma) & quince jam

Wow do you always eat like that? It sounds really good.

No, yesterday, I had a really good stick of gum

Lol so what are you doing today?

I have to do so much around the house today, like laundry & dishes, ugh! What about you?

Well, text me later!!

I think about how Damien has been texting me every single day, and I feel myself falling for him more and more. I've never had anyone take such an interest in my life, or in me, beyond the typical shallow conversations about my looks from the guys that I attract. I've never wanted to know so much about another person. There is something magnetic about him, and I can't walk away, even if I wanted to. Usually, I become quickly bored and drained with other people; with their frivolous, redundant and judgmentally asinine thoughts. Our conversations are effortless - much more so than the awkward, stifled and stilted ones that I would have with my ex-boyfriend, who was extremely supercilious and judgmental - he would overly psychoanalyze every single thing I said and did, until he ended up hating me, or rather, maybe he never liked me, anyways. I feel like I can say anything to Damien and he won't judge me for it. But, he doesn't tell me much about himself, and it is something that nags at the back of my brain, sometimes. I feel like he is hiding something, but I try to not think about it. I feel like I can barely get anything done, because I spend the majority of my time texting Damien, but I'm happier than ever. I feel more alive because of him, like I'm finally living; not just observing.

It is finally the day that we will hang out and I'm embarrassed that I'm so excited to see him. My feet are killing me from working all day at Nordstrom in a combination of studded leopard heels and unsupportive jeweled flats. I've got only an hour before Damien will be at my house to pick me up. I race home, create a fast smoky eye, and change into my favorite military-inspired black, short jacket with silver epaulets and slightly padded shoulders to give my outfit that Balmain inspired vibe, with skinny jeans, a sparkly silver, glitter scarf wrapped around my neck and a black top. I swipe on some pale pink NARS lipgloss, and miraculously, I'm ready on time. I feel comfortable that I'm wearing a typical look of mine, albeit with heavier make-up. My navy, black smoky hazel eyes look smoldering against my incredibly pale, vampire-esque skin.

Damien texts me that he is outside, and my heart skips a beat, with the anxiety of not knowing if we will be friends or more. I don't know what I want. I open the door to his Nissan sedan, and hear unfamiliar music that sounds vaguely jazz-inspired mixed with screamo rock music. "Hey! Thanks for picking me up.. what band is that?"

Damien smiles at me, looks me up and down, and says in his velvety, syrupy low voice that seems to pour over me, "No problem, you look nice. It's your mix CD!" I hand him his mix CD, and I hope that he likes it as much as it seems that I will like his.

In the line at the movie theatre, I can't help but stare at him, and it feels as though we are in a trance; in our own little world, in which nothing bad could ever happen to me, or us. He smiles at me without showing any of his teeth, and looks at me with black lashes with dilated pupils underneath. I don't even feel the cold, brisk winds that mark the beginning of fall. It is ridiculous how good he looks in just a beanie and a light gray hoodie halfway zipped to reveal a toned muscular but lean chest, and a dark forest green and black plaid shirt pops a bit out, with tight but still somewhat casual, loose black skinny jeans and low-top all-black matching VANs. It seems like an art that he perfected - with the sleeves pushed up to reveal toned arms, he looks effortlessly cool - like a model off-duty. I think I could blissfully stare at him forever... like an idiot. I feel like I have to physically tear my eyes away from him, and try to focus. I feel overly inadequate standing next to him, which is ironic since men and women hit on me all of the time, but I have to work hard to look this good, whereas he has all of this down; seemingly naturally, effortlessly, easy.

I step forward and tell the movie theatre employee that I want one ticket for The Social Network, and I start to hand over my $20, but Damien snaps out of his trance and yanks my arm back. "Wait, I - I meant to pay for your ticket," he drawls, and I squeak, "Um, what?!"

He pays for my ticket, and I'm confused if this is a date now.

"Do you want some candy or something?"

"I don't really like candy," I confess.

"Who doesn't like candy?!"

"I mean, I like mint M&Ms, or regular ones sometimes, but I don't know, the movie theatre stuff is so expensive."

Damien looks comically relieved that I'm not some gold-digging candy fanatic, and I laugh.

During the movie, we quietly giggle over scenes that aren't meant to be funny, but we find them to be, and I'm glad that he has the same type of humor that I do. I feel the emptiness inside of me is slowly filling up with manic, supercharged bliss; with a sort of ethereal, dreamlike joy that I feel around him, like how I feel when I lay in the sun by the pool and the rays are softly warming me, keeping me in a state of relaxation and happiness. The back of my mind nags at me that this seems too good to be true, and my father's favorite phrase runs through my head, "nothing lasts forever."

The movie ends, and we walk comfortably together in silence as if we've known each other for years, surprisingly. "What is your favorite food?" Damien asks me, and I feel like my brain is in a dreamlike fog solely from just looking at his pillowy lips and long, curly eyelashes.

"I really like Persian food, since I'm half-Iranian."

"What's Persian food?" Damien looks genuinely interested.

"Um, like saffron chicken with zeresht polo... I mean barberry rice, or kabob - and there's some other hot dishes, too. We should get some, sometime! What about you?"

He smiles his mischievous smile and replies, "We should... I like cheese. And seafood."

I burst out in incredulous laughter. "Cheese? Just cheese?"

"Yeah! You know when it's really hot and you pull it apart, and it has those amazing strings.. it's like cheese porn."

"Wow, cheese porn? You're really into cheese," I laugh.

"Well, at least I'm not cheesy," he pauses to look at me, and then both of us start laughing from that corny line.

"When is your birthday?" I ask.

"July 29th... you celebrated yours a few weeks ago in Spain, right?"

"OMG, does that make us soul mates, since I was supposed to be born on that day, but I was 2 weeks late, as usual?" I smile, teasing him. Damien looks shocked and bewildered, and at that, I laugh. He gives me his diminutive, toothless smirk and we walk into the rainy night.