Jukebox

"Your smile, my ghost"

"Why don't you smile in any pictures?" Jamie pulled a strip of plastic from her pocket and looked helplessly at each image. She tried to inch toward me, but her movements caused the cart to sway more. My grip on the rail tightened, more than it already was driven by fear.

The wait for the ferris wheel wasn't long, but the wait to reach the top was incredibly tedious. Jamie practically begged me to get on before the sun started to set. She wanted to have a romantic night and try to be close to me, but I warned her that I draw a line when it comes to romance.

Personally, I don't mind the small things that happen in a relationship. Holding hands in public or a quick peck on the cheek are things I can handle. Pure acts of love are simply embarrassing. Cliched moments are useless to display someone's love, but with Jamie it's different. Sure, the moment you're alone with your date and gaze toward the setting sun is possibly the most irritating, original romantic gesture. It's overwhelming from my point of view, but the pitiful opinion can be dropped for Jamie's sake.

Jamie managed to move on my side of the cart and shove the strip into my face. Three images showed us making ridiculous faces, while one had us pulled into an embrace and smiling at the camera. "I do smile."

She noticed my lie instantly and folded the strip back into her pocket. "No, that was a smirk. I want to see you smile. With teeth."

"That's not gonna happen." There was no absolute point in saying that. Whenever Jamie wants me to do something, I can't resist that pleading face. Call me weak. She has an effect to cringe my heart most of the time.

One please was all it took for me to look her way and give a smile. The feeling of stretching my lips to my cheekbones was unbearable. Jamie placed her hand over her mouth and started snickering. "There's the face."

Quickly regretting that action, my smile faded. "Stop, that's embarrassing enough."

Jamie moved to where our shoulders touched. "It's embarrassing to be happy around your girlfriend?"

I didn't stutter my answer, "Yes."

The punch was unnoticed and it felt like a bee sting. "Don't jump to that conclusion jerk!"

She pushed the snide comment away for now and looked out the cart. The reflections of the sun started to dim over the ocean's surface. Judging from Jamie's attention, she felt more relaxed to witness the bright star kiss the horizon. Shortly after the sun hid and the splay of dusk took over the sky, Jamie leaned on my side and rested her head in my neck. Strands of her hair grazed my chest and cheek, that alone sent a shiver through my spine. It was also a bit reassuring to notice how calm she felt.

Jamie spreads her fingers over mine. "I love this view."

The knot in my gut grew tighter.

I never took Jamie to be so upfront with her display of emotions. Around the time we first met, her expressions were minimal and her social standings were no better than my own.

Before we started anything, I worked at my restaurant's bar, PairODice. At the age of twenty, working as a bartender isn't as gruesome as I thought it would. The customers are easy to handle when they're not fully drunk and the tips they leave behind are extremely generous. Most of the customers who leave the bigger tips say that I have the kind of attitude and appearance they respect.

One night when I started to close everything up, a young woman came in and walked toward the jukebox. She picked a song that started off slow but grew more harmonized in seconds. The woman was beautiful, with long chocolate hair tied in a braid and rich olive skin. She ordered a Lemon Drop Martini and asked if we could have a small conversation. I don't get attached to customers on a personal level, mostly because it's against work policy. Although, this woman caught my attention, the reverse effect that I have on the other customers. After she paid for the drink, she left her name and number on the back of the receipt. The song on the jukebox ended and I cursed myself for forgetting what song had just played.