July 2085: in between days, part 4

Ezra Dunning is 26, Hilary Monif is 20, Lola Franco is 24.

Soundtrack, "In Between Days" by The Cure

Thursday, July 27, 2085: 10:00 pm


Now, the girl in blue came inside carrying the weight of a fight—Ezra knew what that was like, the tension that dragged you down when you only wanted to come out and have a good time. Lola had just gone home. He’d been neglecting her, she said. He’d been distant and sketchy, she said. She was tired of his bullshit, she said. To be honest, he was tired of it too.

The girl in blue shook herself off and perked up, sighing off whatever it was that brought her down, and moved across the room like she danced, smoothly. He followed her. He’d seen her the other night, and seeing her again now, she just seemed like something bright and resilient he needed in his life. He just needed to try to talk to her, just for a minute, and if she wanted him to fuck off, then he would.



She’d ended up at the bar, waiting for a drink.

Cleo looked up to find him standing there. Lola’s best friend, a knowing and accepting sort of disappointment on her face. She shook her head and went back to making the drink. Cleo knew where this relationship was going in a way Lola wasn’t yet ready to accept. But she was also Lola’s best friend, and Ezra had to accept that every juicy detail was going to be reported count for count. Was he willing to live with that? Yes, he had to. Hell, he’d tell it all to Lola himself. Not right now, but soon.

But he didn't quite know what he was doing. He would never go up to a girl like this before tonight. He would never do it, and yet here he was, doing it.


"Hi," he said.

"Hey," she said brightly.

"Your friend went home?"

The girl shrugged. "She wasn’t feeling it."

"Are you looking for someone?"

"Kind of." She smiled. "Just somebody I was dancing with for a while. It’s not a big deal though."

"That blond guy," Ezra said. "He’s a douche."

She laughed. "And let me guess, you're not?"

"Not usually," he said. "Though I seem to have picked up that reputation. I've seen you here before, haven’t I?"

She took a minute to remember. "Yeah, I think your girlfriend hip-checked me the other night."

"Sorry about that," he said. "We’re on the outs, I think. Let me have a chance to buy you a drink before you go find that other guy, and maybe you won’t want to find him."

"Maybe if I let you buy me a drink, your girlfriend might beat on me again."

"Maybe I don't have a girlfriend anymore," Ezra said, and Cleo’s ears perked up, sharp, from behind the bar. Ezra shrugged at her. It was what it was.

"I'm Hilary," the girl in blue said.

"Ezra," he said.

She laughed at his name. He didn't mind.


She drank quickly, and then dragged him back inside to dance. “Are you just gonna stare at me all night, or do you wanna get over here and do something about it?”

“I don’t know how to dance like...” that, he wanted to say, but she already had his hands pressed to her hips and was moving them both, him clunkier than her. He hadn't felt this light and free in years.




He did alright for a little while, but he wasn't a dancer. "Maybe let’s take a break," she said.


There was a little cafe next door that stayed open late. It was far too late for dinner and too early for breakfast—she got a bowl of lemon pudding and he ordered apple pie.

"Your girlfriend is very pretty," Hilary said.

"She is," Ezra said. "She’s also jealous and needy and smothering."

Hilary laughed. "That’s rough. You guys fight a lot?"

"More lately. I think it's run its course."

"Must be something in the air," she said heavily. "Things running their course."


"Your friend too? How long have you known her?"

"We met in first grade at the sand table. She's like my sister. Or she was. I don't know anymore."

Ezra shrugged. "Sisters fight sometimes."

"Do you have sisters?"

"Three of them," he said.

That made her smile.


She wasn't old enough to drink, but he ordered for her and Cleo didn't make a big deal about it. He learned a few things about her—she was studying sports medicine, she played volley ball in high school, she liked chili dogs and dance movies, she had a secret piercing--could he guess where it was?


"I love you," she said.

"Well now," he said. "We've known each other about two hours and I'm very fond of you too."


She was really drunk, and he felt very suddenly and undeniably twenty-six years old, because she drank like a college spring-breaker and he knew he wasn't one any more. "How about I give you a ride home?" Ezra said.


She didn't live here, she told him. She was staying at her friend's parents for the summer. She went to school in North Carolina and classes started again in four weeks. He had no idea what any of this could possibly be. But he wanted to see her again, if she would.


"She’s wrong about me, you know," Hilary said with a smirk. "I don’t usually sleep with guys I just met. I mean, I’m not gonna say I never have. But if you take me out again tomorrow night..." She winked at him.

He laughed.

"Goodnight," she said.

"Do you mean, good morning?"

"Good morning then."

"Call me," he said. He didn't have a phone number to give her, since he planned to break up with his girlfriend in precisely twenty-five minutes. He wrote down his friend, Denny's number instead. "You can reach me here, I guess. You’re going to call, right?"

She had a cheeky smile. "How else will I get that second date?"



He kissed her long and deep, and she kissed him back with equal enthusiasm. Her lips were pliant against his, her tongue playfully teasing his and then pulling back to make him beg for more of it. He hadn't been kissed like this in a really long time, and that only solidified his intentions to never kiss Lola ever again.


Then Hilary stopped kissing him, smiled once more, and slipped out of the car. It had started to rain at some point, and she sprinted through the downpour around to the back door instead of the front. She was gone, but her place next to him on the car seat was still warm. And with his head clearer than it had been in a really long time, he supposed he had something rather unpleasant to do.


He crept into the room quietly, knowing once Lola finally woke, he'd probably want to leave as soon as possible. He had a box to grab a few quick things, just the few things he really cared about, because whatever he left with her, once he'd pissed her off, would probably end up in the trash.

"Ezra? What the hell? It's five in the morning. Have you seriously been out all night? Where have you... Ugh, I probably don't want to know. You smell like perfume. Smells like she was a skank. Turn around and talk to me, won't you? Wait, why do you have a box?"

He didn’t say anything.

"What, you were just going to leave while I was sleeping?"


"No?" He shrugged. "I was going to leave after you woke up."

She didn't find this as funny as he did.

He looked down at the box. She glanced at it too. "I'm leaving you," he said. "We're done."


"But what did I do? I thought you loved me. You said you loved me."

He didn't want to give her the chance to start begging, because he knew she would at any moment now, and he didn't want her to sink to that. It made him feel so sorry for her, but not sorry enough to stay. He took what he had packed so far and left.


It was still raining, and now that he was technically homeless, he had nowhere to go. He would probably bunk with Denny across the hall, but for now it was too early to wake him, and the shops were still all closed. He didn't even know where, but he was just going. He caught a whiff of perfume, good memories. Lola was right, he did smell like Hilary. It brought a smile to his face.

—

footnotes: the one where Lola hip-checked Hilary.