North Star

Chapter Five: Caralye

We didn't end up in Seattle. I don't know how it happened, but the bus that we got on was not the Seattle bus. By the time we realized that we were not driving in the direction that we should be, we were already half way across Montana. The bus driver offered to let us off, but I figured that randomly being in Montana was worse than being in Chicago.

The drive had taken thirty-something hours, and as a result of the unintentional bus ride, my sketchbook was now almost filled with sketches of Selene: ones of her sitting on the log, looking away like she had been the first time I'd seen her; ones of her with her eyes lit up and sparkling, staring dreamily up at something off the page at someone that I hoped was me; an extreme close-up—facial features and the suggestion of hair, but little else; several sketches of just her name in various styles of calligraphy; and, most recently; one of her on her back, arraigned in my imagination as though she'd tumbled from the sky and landed on her back—and angel dragged to earth by a broken heart.

I loved drawing her; I loved the curve of her jaw, the lines of her neck, the perfect arch of her lips as they pulled up into a smile. God I loved her lips; I wanted to taste them, to lean up on my tip toes and suck her lower lip into my mouth and caress it with my tongue before losing myself in a kiss that would make me melt like sun-warmed honey. I wanted to hold her, to feel the soft curves of her body in my arms.

I ran my hands back through my hair and sighed, shaking my head as to dislodge the thoughts—thoughts I'd never thought about anyone before. If I was being honest, they scarred me a little. I wanted her; I didn't necessarily want to do anything specific with her—kissing aside—I just wanted to be with her. 

I wondered what she thought about me. About what I looked like—the pretty white dress that seemed to be my designated outfit in the dreams didn't do a good job of hiding a lot of scars, and I was pretty self-conscious about them. I wondered what Selene thought of them, if she had noticed them. I wondered if she wondered about me.

My head was so full of questions that it was hard to focus. What was her favorite color, band, food movie? Why was her favorite song her favorite song? What hobbies did she have? Did she like to read? Was she into sports? Basic questions mixed in with deeper ones, like what were her parents like? What was her greatest fear? What did she want to do with her life? Then there were the practical questions: where were we going to live? I had lived in the same place my whole life and had no particular attachment to it, or desire to go back now that I'd left. I wondered if we could get a cat. I loved cats, but had never been able to have one due to the continuing non-permanence of my various living situations. I wanted a Ragdoll, or a Maine Coon, because they were cats that grew to the size of dogs. Maybe we could get a dog, too! A Husky or a Malamute. Or a Samoyed. Or maybe a Corgi if Selene didn't like dogs that were massive and poofy. I wasn't really a fan of small dogs, but liked Corgis; they weren't yappy, they were like big dogs with tiny legs. And their big ears were so cute.

I frowned, it suddenly occurring to me that Selene might not like animals. She was meant to be my other half, did that mean that we like the same things, or that she was all the things that I wasn't?

I noticed Spencer staring at me like I was insane, probably because I was just standing there staring into space, all in my head. "Sorry." I mumbled halfheartedly, illogically saddened by the potential loss of my future pets. 

Spencer pulled up a map on his phone and we started walking away from the bus station.

An hour later we were sitting by the water eating two dollar egg salad sandwiches that tasted funny—which was probably why they were only two dollars.