The boulevard of the dead and other stories

Echoes

The smell of freshly brewed coffee pervaded the whole place, immediately making all your senses come alive. I stared around the kitchen, absentmindedly analyzing the process the baristas went through to make a simple cup of coffee, making it seem so simple and delicate simultaneously. I wondered how long it had taken them to learn that.

"Are you still thinking about it?" Rebecca asked, looking over the screen of her phone. "Wow, then you're hopeless."

I turned to look at the other people in the cafeteria. Would they notice that I had been trying not to cry since I arrived? Would they all know what I was thinking? And, even though I knew it was impossible for it to happen, and even bordering on narcissism, fear began to creep up on me.

"Eliza!" she exclaimed, snapping her fingers in front of my face. "You must stop".

"With what?" I asked absently, while sipping some coffee.

"With that," and she waved her hand, looking me up and down, quietly setting her phone down on the table. "You can't keep doing this, Eliza. First you stare into the void for minutes, and when you come back down to earth, you go blank. What's wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry?"

Rebecca slowly shook her head. And, it was at that moment that I guessed what would happen next: She was preparing a speech or a scolding to talk some sense into me. Within seconds she would start using that voice she used when the kids she worked with couldn't understand something, and then she would change the subject so I wouldn't feel so bad. I had been using the same strategy for over ten years.

"You have to stop thinking about it."

"To stop thinking what, Rebeca?" I repeated.

"You must stop thinking about him."

I looked at her without saying anything, feeling my cheeks start to burn, giving me away.

"Rebeca, I don't...."

"Your coffee is getting cold."

"I'm not..."

"Eliza, your coffee is getting cold," she exclaimed, crossing her arms.

I immediately put my hands around the cup, trying to distract myself, while I tried to stop my eyes from fogging up, or my cheeks from burning. And, when I noticed that Rebecca was still staring at me, I took a few sips from the glass, trying to hide a part of my face.

"It's delicious, don't you think?"

"Yes. Now, what is going on inside that restless head of yours?"

"Don't you know?" I looked at her quizzically, listening in relief as the other people around me continued to be entertained by the conversations they were engaged in. "You were the one who just told me to stop what I was doing, so what was I doing?"

"I have a guess, but, I need to hear you say it."

"No, it's nothing."

"What is it, Eliza? You can say it."

I stared into my coffee cup, trying to find an excuse that would divert the conversation to another topic, but I knew it would be nearly impossible if Rebecca didn't stop studying me. "I just don't feel comfortable."

"No? Maybe we can order something else, no problem."

"No, I just... I feel like people can tell," and fearing she would interrupt me, I added, "I know it's ridiculous, but I was wondering if people can figure out what... Am I being narcissistic?"

Rebecca smiled, shaking her head.

"No. No one is going to judge you and, no one is going to deduce anything. Besides, almost everyone has been there."