Oblivion

Chapter 3

I pull my sleeves over my hands; I forgot my mittens at home. Looking around the quad, nothing’s really changed, my fellow students hurry along the pavement, desperate to get to class and out of the cold air, just as they did in December.

Despite the familiar atmosphere, I’m uneasy, haunted by images of the past. They appear like dust motes in sunlight, a little girl and her father. 

“Wow, Daddy! Look at that fountain! It’s gigantic! I could go swimming in there!” she says, balancing on the edge of the grass like an acrobat on a tightrope. Walking beside her, her father laughs. 

“You certainly could Peanut, but that wouldn’t be a very good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Well, when I went to school here, there were some boys who did silly things in that fountain.” 

“Silly things? Like what?”

“One night, I remember, the lads had a bit too much to drink and ended up peeing in that water.”

“Ewww!” The little girl scrunches her face up and her father laughs again.

“And you wouldn’t want to swim in pee, would you Peanut?” 

“Of course not, Daddy!” she says adamantly.

The memory is interrupted when I see someone I recognise walking toward me. Nate. He’s gotten a haircut since I last saw him. His dark hair is no longer messy, but styled in a sleek quiff. It looks good on him. Neither of us says anything as he passes me, his black coat collar turned up against the wind, but that’s not surprising in the least. We broke up at the end of last term. 

I find my best friends in our usual spot, on the benches outside a campus convenience store.

They haven’t seen me yet; they’re too engrossed in their own conversation. Greg is perched on the edge of a bench hugging himself, watching Violet pace in front of him. White fog spills from her mouth as she talks, her hands gesturing wildly, emphasizing her words. 

Same old, same old. 

Taking a deep breath, I stride forward.

Seeing me approach, Greg stands up, catches Violet’s sleeve, and spins her to face me. A grin lights her face and she runs to close the distance between us, Greg following at a walk behind her. 

“Grace!” she exclaims, enveloping me in a tight hug. “I’ve missed you!” 

“Me too, Vi.”

She pulls back, and Greg is standing next to us, a quiet smile on his face. He embraces me too, not as tightly, but just as warmly.  

“I’m so glad you’re here. Violet has been talking my ear off. As if she doesn’t prattle enough at home,” he says, shooting his flat-mate a pointed look. She ignores him, turning to me instead.

“So, how are you doing?” 

“Fine,” I answer quickly. “I, uh, just saw Nate. He got a haircut, right?”

“Yeah, apparently Alexis made him change it. Which isn’t shocking, I always knew she was a control freak.” Violet shrugs, final in her judgment. “Besides it’s what he deserves after dumping you for her.”

“Um, right.” I nod, fumbling for more words.

“Speaking of people we know,” Violet says, eyes gleaming as she fills me in on the latest gossip. I try to appear interested, but I’m just so relieved the conversation has turned away from me. I sigh quietly, and Greg catches my gaze, cocking his head in concern. I drop my eyes, praying he won’t push it.

“Well,” he says finally, cutting through Violet’s chatter. “I’m so glad you birds are getting caught up, but I’m about to freeze my willy off standing here. So, I suggest we move this party along.” 

Violet chuckles and says, “What a pity that would be; James just loves your willy.” Despite myself, I smile. Greg just rolls his eyes. “Am I wrong? I mean, you’re always pushing me to leave the flat so you and James can have some ‘alone’ time. I just assumed that meant . . .” she trails off, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

“Whatever, can we please go in?”

“Oh, fine.” Violet hooks her arm around mine as Greg, anxious to get warm, jogs ahead of us through the doors.

The clerk nods to us as we head to the back, where the snack section is. Browsing the colorful bags of crisps and sweets, I’m pleasantly surprised by how easy it is to fall into some of my old habits.

After selecting our treats, we head to the register, where Violet nicks my crisps, insisting on buying them. Knowing there’s no point in fighting it, I aimlessly flip through some of the magazines on the rack. My stomach drops as I notice a particular cover. 

Exclusive Interviews with One Direction!

Pictured beneath the headline are five handsome boys, my attention caught specifically by the green-eyed heartthrob whose bed I had woken in just yesterday. 

“Grace, let’s go,” Violet calls, unaware of my epiphany.

I shagged Harry Styles.

---

“Any requests?” Greg shouts from the control booth. The crisp bag crinkles as Violet swings her mobile light toward me expectantly. I shrug.

“Surprise us!” Her voice echoes in the cavernous room as the projector clicks and whirs, arranging itself. Soon, comets streak across the dark dome above us.

“I figured it was appropriate for the occasion,” Greg says, clambering over an aisle chairs to reach us. 

“Good choice,” Violet murmurs, leaning back. She sighs, before adding in a dreamy voice, “I’ll never get tired of seeing this.”

“Me neither,” he says, taking the seat beside her. He smiles, noticing her awestruck gaze, before turning skyward

“What’s my favorite star called again? The really bright one?” 

He sighs before answering, “Polaris.” 

“Right, that’s the one. And your favorite is closest to the sun?”

“Yep, Proxima Centauri.”

“That one’s nice, too,” she admits. Greg chuckles.

As their conversation wanes, I sink back in my chair, staring at the night sky.

We’ve been hanging out here since Greg became a TA for the Astronomy department, but I have a greater appreciation for it today than ever before.

It’s pitch black, and the air is moist, like God has cupped his hands over us, the constellations like the crevices between his fingers. We can’t fathom what lies beyond our little hemisphere, but we don’t need to. It’s infinite and inconceivable. Among such large things, it’s easy to feel small; it’s the perfect place to hide.

“Grace,” Violet says, bringing me back to earth. “Did you get any of the texts I sent you earlier? Greg and I wanted to know if you’re coming to Benito’s next week.”

“I can, but I didn’t get any texts.” Reaching under my seat, I grab my book-bag. After searching for several minutes, I let out a groan of frustration. “I didn’t get any texts because I don’t have my phone.”

“Did you leave it at home? Here, let me call it.” Violet slips her mobile from her rucksack and punches in my number. “It’s ringing,” she says, passing it to me.

The planetarium is silent. 

“Hello?” It’s Harry’s voice.

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Thoughts?

Next Update: Wednesday