Glorified high ✓

IV

Things changed one day in November when I was leaving the university building where I just had my Spanish literature lecture. It was afternoon so that was probably why I willed myself to attend it anyway - mornings were a hard pass. I usually couldn't get out of the bed before noon after hanging out with the guys long into the night.

There you were, leaning against the brick wall of the building, in your worn out denim jeans, strangely shaped sunglasses hanging from the collar of your white t-shirt, scraping your colourful Vans absentmindedly on the concrete. You looked up and saw me amongst the crowd of my classmates and waved. I didn't even know you knew where I had my classes or at what time, or how you found out - I was sure my roommate didn't know those details. I surely didn't know his schedule if someone asked. But you casually asked if we should grab a bite in the cafe at the corner and then smoke a joint in the park.

I said yes and never questioned why your choice was me. We never hung out alone before, it was always together with my roommate and his girlfriend when you'd stopped by at our place, or when our typical group of eight to ten people would meet at the weekends when there were big parties or gatherings at the local parks with cheap drinks if the autumn weather would still allow us to do so.

We never talked much, not enough for me to find out anything about you that mattered. You were always around, but never too close, just enough to birth some feeling in me that I couldn't name. I never thought we would become friends. I never thought you had any real friends, from what I've seen after a couple of months of knowing you. Undeniably you were closer to some people more than others, but you were the classical example of a social butterfly, who could easily become good buddies with pretty much anyone but suddenly you'd meet someone else who aroused your curiosity, appealed to you more and you'd move on.

I didn't know if I admired that ability of yours or loathed it. To admire it meant to want to be that popular myself - I craved social acceptance as much as another young adult. To loathe it meant that nobody ever would have that special place in your life forever. You were fickle and unapproachable for a deeper connection.

But we spent the day together; something seemed to pass between us, a subtle rearranging of air, the frank, unapologetic way you held my gaze while I talked. And I talked and talked and you laughed and nodded at all the right places. We mentioned the party from the previous weekend and our mutual friends and music and stupid things like how much you liked winter that was slowly but surely approaching. I said I hated winter as a kid because my birthday was in January and it always made my birthday parties not as exciting as the kids' who were born in summer. "No fucking way, I knew there's something cool about you." after enunciating the word cool, you laughed and grabbed my bicep. Then we both burst out laughing at how dumb your joke was, making people in the park look at us in wonder, their envy of our careless youth palpable in the air like the chilly autumn wind.

That winter, my birthday was one of the coldest days recorded in recent years. But when I opened the door of my apartment and a bunch of crazy, happy, people who by that time I started calling friends, jumped and screamed Surprise, my insides were burning, it felt hotter than the hottest day in July. You approached me last to congratulate me. You. You devil, you.

Everyone was dressed in summer clothes, bathing suits, with hats and sunglasses on, making fruity cocktails, big parasol was wide open in the middle of the room while the heating was blasted to the maximum and cheerful beach bar music was playing. My heart was warmer than the erupting lava and my skin was the surface of the sun hot when you hugged me and said those words quietly, your breath ticking my ear. Nobody else could hear you, here on this private little island you made just for me, "Happy birthday. I'll always bring summer to you in winter."

And I believed you. And in a sense you kept your promise.