Fanciful and Unfounded X

Journal Assignment #10: The Date That Wasn’t

Instead of a free-write for this assignment, choose a previous assignment and expand!  Tell it from a different viewpoint, give it a different setting, change a major plot-point.  What is different?  What stays the same?  Explore.  - Professor Brink

I asked a girl out.  I asked a girl out then I couldn’t find my other shoe.  I stumbled around my bedroom searching for it.  How can a shoe hide when there is nothing to hide behind?  At last I saw the leather sole peaking out from under the valence.  I shook my yellow curtain, the brown shoe came tumbling to the ground.  After waiting a full month to end up on a date with Sylvie, I had been fully prepared to go shoeless.  I surveyed myself as I left my room.

Sweater?  Check.

        Pants?  Check.

        Shoes? Barely.  I pulled at the laces.

        Wallet?  Check.

        Phone?  Not in that pocket.

        Phone?  Not there, either.

I didn’t really need it.  The most important thing was getting there.  I knew Sylvie would meet me at the theater.  And Sylvie was always early.  Early! What if she was waiting for me?  I glanced at my watch. The shoe search may have taken more time than I anticipated.  2:12.  The silver hands were resolute, and they ticked on. The movie—a screening of The Wizard of Oz courtesy of the “Throwback Thursday” promotion of the local theater— was at 2:30.  It was a matinee, as Sylvie had requested.  Why are matinees so early?  I sprinted out of my apartment and down two flights of stairs and down the street.  

Somehow I arrived at the theater before her.  I surreptitiously wiped the sweat from my forehead and slowed my breathing before she arrived.  Through the window I saw her blond head first.  Bobbing along.  I really liked the way Sylvie walked.  She had a quick, efficient tread that could easily match my longer stride despite our height difference.  But she was walking a little slower this time, and I wondered if she was caught behind someone.  When the crowd in front of her turned down another street, she kept the same, slowed pace.  She was slowed by a companion, not a crowd: Alexa.

What was Alexa doing here?  I shot her a questioning glance.  She saw me and frowned.

“There he is!” Sylvie provided.  She waved at me.  “Hey, Jameson!  Sorry we’re late, there was some trouble with fifteen chickens in the dorm.”   Her cheeks were flushed, as always, and her eyes sparkled.  As she rushed toward me I felt something in me jump.  While I wondered about the chickens and about Alexa’s presence, mostly I was just excited to see Sylvie.  

“Hi, Sylvie!”  I said, looking in to her blue eyes.  Then, “Hey Alexa?” I said, attempting to ascertain the reason for her presence by my tone alone.

“Hey, Jamie,” Alexa hesitated.  She looked from Sylvie to me and back and forth again.  I recognized the gesture as my own.  Alexa did not know!  She was as caught of guard as I was.  

“Well, what are we waiting for?  Let’s get our tickets and a good seat!”  Sylvie grabbed Alexa’s sleeve and drew her into the theater, encouraging me to follow.  

Sylvie seemed to have trouble realizing that, at showing of an old movie on a Thursday afternoon, there was no one to claim our seats against.  She also seemed to have trouble understanding the concept of a date and how they generally only involve two people.  Sylvie who was such a know-it-all in Art History was suddenly out of her depth.  How could I hold this against her, I thought, spying a new fantasy novel peaking out of her brown leather bag as she led Alexa into the theater.

I followed the girls to the ticket counter where, to my chagrin, Sylvie and I paid separately.  Alexa got popcorn.  I followed Sylvie into the empty theater, then to three seats precisely in the center of that theater.  I felt a smile tug at my lips as I observed that Sylvie’s natural pull to the center of rooms was not restricted to lecture halls.  While I typically size up a room to find the best seat,  Sylvie appeared to navigate by instinct alone though the dimming theater.   

Besides the price of matinees, something I enjoy about them is that, especially on Thursdays, the theater is typically empty.  This fact was alluring when I was under the impression that it would only be Sylvie and me.  Now it wasn’t.  As we filed into the row, I glanced at Alexa.  She was deeply involved with her popcorn, but her wide eyes revealed her acute awareness of the situation.

Sylvie, oblivious, sat between Alexa and me.  She was enthralled by the sensational and colorful adventures of Dorothy on the yellow-brick road.  I watched her more than the movie, as she sang along with the songs and turned to each Alexa and me to smile and make a joke.  There were so many moments when I wanted to grab her hand.  Unfortunately, when she wasn’t gesticulating, her resolute courtesy kept her hands in her lap.

Next time, I thought.  I settled into my seat to watch the flying monkeys and decided that next time I would make my intentions more clear.  For now, this was perfect.

I'm trying to change the style a bit with the change of "voice." I hope that this was successful, but I might have to learn to step back a bit. A bientôt! Alexa

Poor Jamie. Does he know the words that you put into his mouth?
--Sylvie