My own reality

22

“What made you guys friends?” Tiffany asks as we sit besides Ruffle’s bed at the nurse’s office. Ruffle lies sound asleep, his breathing shallow and even.
I remember Tiffany probably doesn’t know about Ryan.
“You know,” I shrug. “He actually has a split personality,”
“Oh...”
“Yeah,” I say. “The second person, Ryan, is who I’m friends with.”
Tiffany had insisted on visiting Ruffle because she felt like the fact that they once dated tied them together, for now. I, on the other hand, wasn’t so enthusiastic. I know the Ruffle now doesn’t give a shit about me but the Ruffle before made my life hell. And it’s still the same Ruffle, because he remembers.
“Do you think he is going to be okay?” Tiffany asks.
Ruffle wakes with a start. “What the fuck?”
I stare at him, trying to hide the loathing in my heart. “You good,”
Ruffle turns to me and smiles. “Hey, you.” He laughs briefly. “Aw, you care enough to come and see me,”
Ruffle wouldn’t have said that. I smile. “Ryan,” I say. “You’re back,”
“I was sort of enjoying it back there,” Ryan says. “You know, not getting to do anything,”
“Ryan you’ve met Tiffany?” I say.
“Hey,” Tiffany smiles.
“Hey,” Ryan says. “Why does it hurt to talk?”
“It will go away soon,” I say. “Don’t worry,”
Ryan suddenly sits up. “Holy shit,” he whispers.
“What?” I ask.
Ryan lets out a short laugh. “He’s gone,”
“Who, Ruffle?”
Ryan nods. “Finally after all these years,” he says. “Do you know how much I’ve been trying to get rid of him?”
“That’s great,” I think I’m more relieved than Ryan is. “How are you so sure?”
“Because I still have a crush on—”
The door bursts open and the doctor walks in. “Visiting time is over, children.”
Tiffany and I stand up. “Get well soon,” I say.
“Ruffle got these a lot,” Ryan says. “I’ll be out soon. Feels good using his name in past tense.”
“Do you really want to go back to the games?” I ask Tiffany as we walk down the empty hallway.
“Not really,” she says.
“Where should we go?” I ask.
“I know a place,” she says. “Come on,”

It feels like it’s been long since I felt this comfortable and happy with Tiffany. It was a short five minute drive, and we talked and laughed all the way through.
“We’re here,” she says as she parks the car.
“An art gallery,” I say. “You didn’t mention you were an artist,”
“I’m not,” she admits. “I tried drawing but the painting looked like shit. I like staring at it anyway.”
We get out of the car. “My dad owns this place,” she says as we head in.
“Your dad owns half the town,” I say.
She laughs. “Come on,” she sighs. “We’ve been planning something, a sort of presentation. I was supposed to come here immediately I was done cheering,”
But then I happened. She doesn’t mention it but I hear her say it. She doesn’t seem like she is blaming me, in fact she is staring at a certain miniature marble sculpture in a glass encasement against the wall.
“This is new,” she says.
I look at the sculpture. It shows three muscular and well structured men standing shoulder to shoulder. Their faces are all gruff and serious. The middle one’s right arm is raised and is holding what seems to be a lightning bolt. The one to his right holds a trident longer than his body. The one to his left had a Greek helmet on. They all wore Greek togas and sandals, the middle one had a crown resting on his head. I recognized them almost immediately.
“Greek gods,” I say. “Hades, Zeus and Poseidon.”
Piper reads the white card resting against the sculpture inside.
“The indeminable,” she frowns. “What does that mean?”
I shrug. “I have no idea,”
I feel guilty about it, but I am kind of bored. I remember how she found what I loved boring too, but t that time we weren’t dating.
A little baby walks, rather wobbles its way around the room. It looks like it has just started walking. It laughs and chases a little butterfly that flies around the room too. I stare at the baby and smile. Nothing seems to matter in its little world. It doesn’t know anything yet apart from the joy this butterfly is giving it.
The butterfly leads the baby to the edge of a descending stair well. My heart skips a beat. I look around. Where is this baby’s mother? I look at the baby. It is clearly oblivious about its impending doom; just one step will send it tumbling down the steps. It wobbles on the edge, reaching for the butterfly floating a few inches above it. My heart starts to race. I should probably go and save it.
Then the baby topples over.
I scream, attracting the attention of everyone in the room. The baby turns around, startled by the sudden sound. A woman approaches it and carries it away, staring at it me with the same confused expression.
“Are you okay?” Tiffany asks.
“Yeah,” I say, though my heart is still racing.
“I just imagined something horrible,” I say. “My imagination can feel realistic at some points,”
This is not the first time this has happened, but I always ignore it because it’s just a wild imagination. Right?
The lights start to dim and a soft calming music starts to play in the background. I wonder what this about. Tiffany wraps an arm around my waist and my own butterfly flutters in my stomach. I rest my arm around her shoulder and feel her lean into me.
A spotlight lands on someone in the middle of the room, everyone gathers around him.
“Hello everybody and thank you for coming,” the person says. “Over time we have been working on a project. It is a sort of 9D presentation of a part of me I can never forget. This is dedicated to my son...”
I suddenly remember my own father and whether he would’ve done this, whatever this is, for me.
“...who passed on two months ago,”
There is a brief moment of silence. Tiffany sniffs quietly besides me. Something dawns on me.
“That’s...” I start.
“My dad,” she says.
“My son loved the ocean and everything in it,” Tiffany’s dad continues. “He had a big dream to save it from pollution. Sadly he didn’t get to fulfil that dream. I present to you, the ocean!”
The room explodes with blue lighting and upbeat music. It is as if we are under water. The floor is covered with sand and coral reefs. The roof looks like the distant surface bathing in the sunlight beyond. All around us fish swim about lazily and aimlessly. To top it all off, whenever we move, bubbles form and pop in our wake.
Whoa.
“This is...” I try, exhilarated.
“He was just like you,” Tiffany says. “In love with something bigger than him. That’s what made me start liking you,”
I am literally speechless.  Watch as dances take on the spotlight, twisting and twirling as bubbles form and pop around them.
“Look out,” Tiffany says.
I take a step back as a whale swims towards me, although I know it’s not real. The whale explodes on impact into a cloud of bubbles. I hadn’t realised I had held onto Tiffany. When the bubbles clear, I pull back and stare into her beautiful brown eyes. She leans in and kisses me. I pull her closer, so that her whole body is on me, and kiss her back.
“Tiffany,” says a voice.
We break apart.
“Dad,” Tiffany says. “This is Jason, my boyfriend.”
“Nice to meet you, sir.” I say and shake his hand.
“Yeah,” he says. “Are you ready?” he asks Tiffany.
I watch Tiffany’s face fall. “Yeah,”
“We leave next week,” he says and walks away. 
I turn to Tiffany. “What’s going on?”
“We need to talk,” she replies.

We approach the swing set in the backyard of the art gallery.
“I used to spend all day with my brother,” she says.
It’s that kind of swing that’s large enough to fit two or three people, shaped like a chair with a cushion for the seat. We sit on the swing. I apply pressure on my feet and push us backwards. The swing rushes forward, Tiffany screams and laughs.
“So what’s wrong?” I ask when the swing settles.
“Remember when I applied for modelling school?” she asks.
“Yeah,”
“I got a place,” she says.
“That’s great,” I say.
“But the academy is all the way in Beverly hills,” she says.
My face falls when I realize what she is saying. “It means you're leaving?”
She nods. The swing rocks slowly and a gentle wind sweeps across the yard, turning over a few fallen leaves.
“I may never see you again?” I ask.
Something breaks inside me. I can’t imagine being away from Tiffany.
“You will,” she says. “But in like three months. We’re moving next Tuesday.”
“I’m so happy for you,” I say. Although I’m not. “This is your big dream.”
“Do you think this will still exist when I come back?” she asks.
I fight the sting in my eyes. “I hope it does,”
“I may not be around on Tuesday so this might be our last time alone,” she says. “I’m just saying, you’re the best thing that has happened to me so far. Thank you for everything.”
My heart swells at that, mixed with the pain of never seeing her again. I turn to face her, trying to keep balance on the swing. I shuffle close to her and hold her hand. I never realised how beautiful she is, as if every curve and edge of her face is a delicately mastered art piece.
“I’m going to miss you,” I say.
She smiles weakly. “Me too,”
I shuffle closer. “I love you,”
There I said it. I never thought it, but I realise I mean it. I mean it more than anything.
“I love you, too.”
We crash into each other, her lips on mine and mine on hers. The swing starts to rock roughly as I pull her close to me. The energy between us blazes wilder than a bonfire. I kiss her as if I may never see her again which I guess I might never.
I don’t want to let go. I don’t want to let her go, but I know I have to.