Staccato

Diffident Elation

October 28, 2014.

Trinity School, New York.

His eyes still keep up their steady gaze on me from across the table, where he is sat with a slight smirk that only seems genial.

And a little amused.

Up until that point, it seemed like I was immersed underwater where voices from afar echoed faintly. His proximity has that numbing effect on me.

But I slowly discern the voices - they stop echoing underwater; they become clearer.

They're urgent, whispery talks that fill the entire cafeteria like a sea.

I realise that people are feverishly talking about us.

Efrim's eyes flit to somewhere behind me while he maintains that same straight, faintly amused face as he sits there like one very relaxed Michelangelo sculpture.

I turn slightly to follow his gaze, and I find my friends (thank god my dear younger sister isn't here and has left for her practice) are recording us. Quinn and Jake have their phones out, held out before them and hovering in front of their dorky, awed faces.

And so does the entire cafeteria.

I turn away from the sight, almost forgetting Efrim in my utter embarrassment as I drop my head weakly into my hand and drag slow fingers into my hair. I'm cringing so hard.

"Looks like everyone's thinking one of us asked the other out for the Halloween party." Efrim notes lightly.

I look up at him, my heart knocking in panic. I can't seem to believe I heard him right.

"Um."

Great. Eloquent as always aren't we? 

Efrim shakes his head, and smiles a little, looking away.

My stomach is pure lead; I'm panicking. But it's as if I'm high on something. Not that I've ever been high on anything except on an overdose of Chardonnay last Thanksgiving.

I'm swooning at his words, I'm swooning over the way he shook his head, smiled a little, looked away - I'm sure my cheeks are stained with a fiercely blushing red.

His sharp profile, in contrast, is an unstained alabaster as always.

He looks back at me.

I don't know if it's his straight gaze or if it's his presence, like beholding from up close the majestic beauty of the sun.

It would simply blind one.

And so, there, I'm speaking - haltingly making my way through words, sure - but I'm speaking indeed. Words that can never be taken back-

"Maybe we, um, maybe we really should." I have no smile on my face and I said it all to the glass tabletop. I in fact have no emotions at all on my face, and that is because I'm so shit-scared that I'm numb.

What did I just say?

And it all comes crashing to me - sitting there - I'm inundated swiftly by memories; memories of longing for him, for his proximity, for his voice. For his friendship. For nine long years...

And the night, fragile and moonlit, and he just as pale, just as beautiful. I finally had, in that magical moment, what I had longed for for nine long years - his proximity, his voice..

And maybe, just maybe, his friendship.

What the hell did I just say?

I dare to look up at him.

He observes me with quiet eyes.

But he is no longer still underneath. I can feel it.

I think I saw a slight hint of surprise pass through his eyes before he schooled his expression into a perfect blank mask.

But that's as far as his emotions would reveal themselves, I guess.

"I'm sorry, Noah." he shakes his head and smiles, breaking eye contact, a hand going to his hair as he leans down and absently drags his hair back. "I won't be attending the party," he straightens and looks at me with an apologetic smile.

"Oh."

I feel crushed.

I know it is irrational, and stupid, to feel so - like, what did I expect? For him to accept it and for us to go as each other's dates? Shit, shit. I feel so stupid; I desperately want to go back in time and undo this stupid, stupid stupidity.

And his genial smile, his cruel kindness, only crushes me more.

"How about we do something about that plan we made for our playdate?" he asks me quietly.

But of course, that was what he had asked me, if that offer still held, and for that was what I had nodded in bashful acquiescence - yes, it still did, Efrim - in silent elation over the fact that he remembered, he remembered it all.

Before I had to ruin it with that moment of foolish impulsiveness.

I look up at him, my gaze reticent, ready to flee and evade any moment.

He is only smiling at me quietly, in patient expectation as he waits for my response. I want to sink into the earth and disappear forever. I bite at my lip and chuckle, dropping my head down and dragging fingers through my hair to ease my nervous disappointment.

And yet, an elation surges through, refuses to abate, and threatens to overwhelm me and douse my nervous disappointment.

Elation and disappointment. Yet again, it's a counterintuitive mix of emotions to feel together.

Elation - for this, I just know, is the beginning of what I had always longed for.

His friendship.

And I look up at him with a chuckle that isn't merely to hide disappointment, and nod.

~*~