In the Wings

t h r e e

Sonal was a kaleidoscope. A complex myriad of tones constantly clashing into one another. And Prescott was captivated, enchanted by the structured expressiveness that flowed from the ends of her nutmeg hair through the tips of her slender fingers. She was all the colors of every sky: orange, purple, pink, blue, blended into one expansive horizon at full vividness. He knew that no matter how far he reached, Sonal was never-ending. Still, he yearned to experience her in all of her depth.

But it was dulled. While he pretended not to notice Sonal's melancholy tint, it left its imprint, hampering the intensity he knew was buried beneath. And now, as she paid for her coffee and sat down at a table, all he saw was her.

Prescott left his spot from behind the counter and strode over to Sonal. She didn't look up, stormy eyes staring straight at her dark-haired friend Astrid, who he had seen once before. The conversation seemed airy; he overheard Astrid talking about a new haircut she wanted to get for fall. Yet Sonal's forehead was creased with worry, her fingers tapping with anxiety. And he noticed.

Prescott said her name and she looked up. The concern on her face dissipated as her thin lips stretched into a smile.

"Can I join you?" Prescott asked.

She looked between Astrid and Prescott, clearly at a crossroads. Sonali Accord-Rajan was not the kind of girl to have late-night conversations with gorgeous boys.

But Astrid made the decision for her. She suddenly sprang out of her chair, saying, "I'm going to use the bathroom."

As she walked away, she turned back and gave Sonal two thumbs up that said this is your chance.

Prescott replaced Astrid in the other rickety chair at the table and recalled the reason why he wanted to come over to talk to Sonal. He had wanted to ask her out for lunch but as he sat down and looked at her, it struck him that he had never had a real conversation with her. His sky-high confidence was soon crushed by a fluttering nervousness at the bottom of his stomach. Charming girls was a skill of his, but when it came to Sonal, all of his magic slipped between his fingers.

The silence between them became suffocating and Prescott broke it, asking, "Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?"

"I'm going home to see my mother and father and brothers," she responded plainly.

"You're from Chicago, right?"

"Yeah."

"It must be really different from here. Like cold and snowy?"

"Yeah."

The conversation ended abruptly and the silence engulfed them once more, like a thick fog on a rainy day. Sonal went back to sipping on her coffee and as she did, Prescott's breath caught in his throat. She was stunning, ethereal in her own right. He took in the slightly upturned tip of her tan nose, her delicate shoulders, the hint of green in her large chestnut eyes. Those eyes. Prescott liked to imagine that one day, they may have glowed under any light. But now, they were broken, and somewhere, deep inside of him, Prescott believed that he could mend the cracks.

"So are you ready for exam week? I think I have to start drinking as much coffee as you with how much I have to do," Prescott said. Sonal's coffee consumption habits reminded him of how she always looked tired and a little unhealthy. With each passing day, he observed the ever-darkening crescent moons under her eyes and the way her skin hung off of her willowy body. He knew that she worked hard but sometimes he wondered if she worked too hard and forgot to take care of herself.

Sonal laughed, "Yeah. I've been studying for the past few weeks so hopefully I'll be okay."

As she responded, Sonal thought about her relationship with Prescott. She had met him at the beginning of her freshman year and since then, they had only exchanged courteous hellos and goodbyes. Nowhere in the past year had Sonal actually sat down and had a conversation with him. Nowhere in the past year had Sonal had a conversation with any guy. She couldn't even remember the last time she talked to her brothers. She liked to believe that it stemmed from Hunter back in high school, that her one experience dating a boy had forever ruined her reputation of relationships. But she knew she couldn't blame him. If anything, it was completely her fault.