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| Fiction, by Joe Selmont. |
Somewhere in the real world my ears picked up the sound of voices from the students in the MACS above me. A moth fluttered creepily around the fluorescent bulb protruding from the ceiling, light reflecting ever so slightly off its dull wings, almost like fairy dust. Then my thoughts went to Peter Pan, and then to Wendy, and then back to her, to Emmy, as if by some unexplained magnetic field my mind was endlessly attracted to her. We went on a date, thought I, a real date. Then off ran my thoughts in distant and digressive directions.
I’m Lamont Harpe, if you don’t know me. I work at UAA, live at UAA, and study at UAA. My semester to date had gone something like this: my mom helped me move back into the dorms, which was a disagreeable experience; I barely managed to scrape together the stuff necessary for a
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| Lamont and Emmy take the plunge! |
Knots
When Saturday morning finally rolled around, my stomach was tied up in knots. I had over 400 pages between all of my classes to read before the weekend was over, but I could not focus on anything. Words were blending into each other, whole paragraphs were immediately forgotten, and at times I forgot which class I was even reading for. Realizing that study would take me nowhere, I got out of bed, put on some pants, and made my way to the Commons for brunch. I don’t generally like their food, but they do brunch right by me. Waffles, eggs, various breakfast meats, fruits, and chocolate milk… who could mess that up? The knots in my stomach loosened up to make room for all the food I then inhaled, so after returning to my room I actually managed to get through about 100 pages of homework over the next couple hours.
Then with the initial onset of hunger pains, the knots once again constricted around my poor tummy. I became distraught over minute details concerning the date: what would I wear? what would we talk about? would I be funny? what if I laughed weird? what if she didn’t like the food? what if some awesomely attractive, funny, self-confident dude started hitting on her and stole her away? At that moment, all of these seemed like certainties. Of course Emmy would hate me, would see me for the nerdy, lame guy that I was. I began doubting that the date should even happen, and gave serious consideration to calling it off. Eventually I worked myself up so much that I fell asleep from exhaustion, utterly bereft of emotional and physical energy.
Turns out, however, that that nap was exactly what I needed. I snoozed for about three hours, waking up with just enough time to shower, re-brush my teeth for the third time, throw on one of the outfits I had manically set aside earlier, and ran out my door. I had no time for foreboding thoughts, because Emmy happened to be right outside my MAC.
“Emmy!”
“Lamont! Well, don’t you look spiffy. Are you ready to go?”
“Sure am. Let’s get out of here. Pho Lena still work for you?” Then adopting my serious face, I said, “And, um, you look, um, pretty.”
“Well thank you. Now come on, let’s hit the road!”
Riding to noodles
As I opened the door into Emmy’s car for her, I smiled full into her face and she returned the gaze with a smile equal in proportion. All of the stress melted away from me instantly, and I felt foolish for having felt it at all. This girl was unique, a marvel, a wonder of the world, and she liked me.
Hopping into the passenger seat, I nervously flipped through the radio as she began driving towards midtown, and I stopped the dial upon hearing a Paul Simon song, and I let the pervasive funk of his rhythm section fall over us. Emmy laughed at my head bob and we chatted about music the rest of the drive, and we chatted about school and food and our makeshift dreams when we got to the restaurant, and we chatted about France and books and movies in her car for almost an hour after we got back to UAA.
Riding home from noodles
“Okay, Emmy,” I said between laughter after she impersonated Arnold Schwarzenegger with freakish accuracy, “I think it is time I went back inside. We’ve been sitting here… oh… who knows how long. God, it’s already midnight!”
“I suppose so,” she said.
“I mean, this was awesome. Super fun. Um.”
Laughing at my awkwardness, she said, “Yes, yes. I know. I had fun, too. Perhaps we can do it again? Soon?”
Feeling my heart race, I replied hurriedly, “Yes, yes, yes, I would like that very much.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Okay,” I said, then slowly I broke my gaze from hers and fumbling for the door said, “okay. Again. We’ll do it again. Alright. I guess goodbye…”
“I guess so,” she said. “Goodbye, Lamont Harpe.”
“Goodbye, Emmy.”
And then, he....
As I got out of the car, I waved at her once again, then proceeded toward my door. Just as I swiped my card for entry, I spun around and ran out into the parking lot. She had just begun backing out, so she didn’t see me running. I knocked on her window, startling her a little, but then laughing, she rolled down her window.
“I wanted to give you something,” I said, and lowered my face down to hers and we kissed, not for too long, not for too short, not too clean, and not too sloppy. It was a damn good first kiss, if I don’t say so myself. Smiling, I pulled slowly away, meeting her eyes, and then whacked my head on her door frame. She laughed while I cringed in pain, but I smiled anyways.
“Okay. I said. Goodbye for reals. See you soon?”
“Yes,” she said, grinning as I rubbed my cranium, and then she drove away. I made my way inside, laid on my bed, and lost myself in thought. This is where you met me.
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| The Kiss. Illustrated by Ted Kincaid. |
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The rest of the story here:
Episode 1: Lamont crashlands back in the dorms
Episode 2: Lamont feeling woeful and dismayed
Episode 3: Lamont meets Emmy
Episode 4: Lamont's typical day on the job at the SU
Episode 5: Paris beckons; Lamont makes a REAL date
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