Enezey’s on a Friday night normally plays the part of a lounge over a bar. But, around midterms and finals at the surrounding universities, it becomes lively with many a youth learning the detrimental skill of drinking their problems away. The regulars typically don’t mind the change of pace. Especially now, when it contrasts the current winter night awaiting them on their trip home.
Avery thumbs the straw in their whiskey ginger casually, while their attention, and that of a few others, is drawn to a rather rambunctious group near the pool table as they begin to call for shots.
It’s a diverse group, each a painful reminder of how foolish youth can be. There is one Avery cannot help but relate to.
Off to the side, a young woman stands, awkwardly trying to be cool. They look the part with short hair, a leather jacket, and black pencil skirt. But what they lack is the air of cool. Their body language gives it away. They are trying too hard to be the idea of cool.
Avery cannot help but smirk every time this young woman tries to catch the eye of a certain full figured groupee. She comes close, but fails to act on the brief moment of connection.
Avery returns to their drink as this young woman resumes her facade of stoicism.
“Hey Ave, your glass is nearly empty. Want another?” Lola asks.
“Nah, I’m good. Close me out, please.” Avery downs the rest of their drink and rests the glass back on the bar. Fingers linger on the cool rim, as they reminisce on their own failed attempts at being cool.
Lola hands the bill and a pen over, returning Avery’s card. “What’s that smile for?” She asks.
“Just remembering. Thanks.” Avery signs and pockets their card. As they stand to put on their coat, they call back to Lola. “Mind if I bum a cig off you? For the road.” The request is paired with the gesture of bumping their right thumb and index finger up into their left palm.
“Sure.” Lola hands over a cigarette.
“Thank ya kindly,” Avery replies in a mock southern drawl as they turn to leave.
Coincidentally, the pool table section is near the exit, and the trying to be cool woman is now standing near the door. Avery cannot help but give some advice.
As they walk towards the door, Avery makes eye contact with this young woman, in the way of acknowledgment. She takes notice and curiously watches them approach.
Stopping beside her, but without turn to face them, Avery says “The thing about being cool, is that it’s all in the authenticity. Don’t try to be someone you’re not. It’s not cool to be uncomfortable with yourself.”
Avery turns to nod in the direction of the interest she has. “Be yourself, not who you think she wants you to be.”
The young woman breaks eye contact to scoff, and begins to say “You don’t—”.
Her words fall short when looking back to find experienced eyes looking into her own; as if they truly saw her.
“Good luck,” Avery adds before continuing to the door and leaving Enezey’s.
—
Through the door of our present, do we seal away our past, making it possible to continue forward. Should the door remain open, we’ll be pulled forever back.
—
Chicago’s winter is a blanket of cold that forcefully drapes itself upon you. Breathe too deeply, and it’s sharp edge threatens to fill your lungs. But, Avery does not mind the familiar embrace. It feels as if it were about to snow; the clouds overhead swell in anticipation. It would be the first true blizzard of the season. Avery takes comfort in knowing that they should have enough time to get where they’re going.
It’s a short walk, one that gives just enough time to take in how the City’s night is going. Avery isn’t the only one sensing the coming snowfall. People are hurriedly leaving their watering holes for the warmth of home. Sometimes in pairs, but Avery notices a lot of individuals calling for a ride. Love does not seem to be in the air tonight, for many.
Besides the occasional passing car, the night is quiet. Only a single siren is heard, far off in the distance, in the time it takes for Avery to reach their bridge. They refer to it as theirs simply because of how many times they have found themself crossing it; going on eight years.
It’s become a habit, coming by every so often, to lean against the railing and watch the rippling water. This is where they intend to smoke.
Pulling a lighter from their pocket, Avery laments on forgetting to pick up a pack before heading to Enezey’s. They’ll have to make this one last.
Holding the cig between their index and middle fingers, they click the flame to life, taking a quick pull before the young ember could be snuffed out by the canal’s own breathe.
‘Why am I still alive?’ Avery asks themself.
Right to it, then? Responds their inner voice.
‘I shouldn’t be alive.’
Ready to act on those words?
Taking another pull on the cigarette, Avery’s eyes fixate on the lapping waves breaking on the eroding canal walls. “No,” they say aloud.
Then, we are to lament on the past again?
‘It’s what I’m good at, apparently.’
After so many years, you are still here, on this same damn bridge. And, just like the first time, you could jump and no one would be able to save you in time.
‘Still a tempting thought.’
Then why not?
‘Because I’m meant to suffer a little longer, it would seem.’ Avery goes for another pull, but realizes it had gone cold. Relighting their only cig, they continue with their train of thought.
For one without a purpose, we’ve lasted quite a while.
‘Some small consultation.’
Someone’s watching.
—
My presence in this abyss grows heavy with the faces of those now gone.
—
Avery turns their head to see the young woman from before standing a few paces away. She is alone, and leaning heavily to one side. If they had to guess, it would be that she had answered the call for shots. Perhaps in a last ditch effort to work up the courage.
“Ah Ms. Cool. It seems you had no success.”
“Oh, Mr. Cool was it?” the young woman teases.
“That’s okay, next time. Unfortunately, it has become harder to just be ourselves. And, it’s Avery.” Another pull is taken.
“Cas. I’m starting to think myself isn’t good enough anymore.” Cas replies with an intoxicated sigh and false smile.
“Well Cas, I’m doing a bit of thinking myself. Care to join me?” Avery pulls the cigarette from their lips, in an offering gesture.
“No thank you. I don’t smoke.” Cas replies, coming to stand next to Avery. “But, I’ll join you.”
“Good for you. Actually, I rarely smoke,” Avery admits. Cas’ shoulder lightly rests against them.
“Bullshit. You were sucking on that thing like it would save your life,” Cas mocks.
“I do it for the aesthetic. And, how long were you watching me?” Avery asks with an accompanying raised eyebrow.
“Maybe you just like fiddling something with your mouth.” Cas jokes, ignoring their question.
“What if I enjoy fiddling something with my mouth?” Avery asks suggestively.
Cas toys with the idea, but does not answer. Yet, her hand searches for Avery’s.
“Hey, you think you could catch me if I jumped?” Avery suddenly asks.
Cas’ eyes widen in surprise and they step closer.
“Relax, I’m only speaking hypothetically.” Avery’s chuckle stops when they notice Cas had actually gripped their coat and arm.
“That isn’t funny,” Cas scolds. She hesitates letting go, but eventually does after Avery gives a reassuring nod.
“You’re right, my apologies. You really would try to catch me…” Avery’s gaze returns to the canal’s shimmering waves.
“The real you is good enough. It’s their fault for not seeing that,” Avery replies to Cas’ earlier statement.
“But, I want to be noticed,” Cas softly replies. “Why did you notice me?”
After a moment of thought, Avery simply answers “Because everyone deserves to be seen. Especially those that are use to not being noticed.”
Snow begins to fall, and Avery finishes their cigarette with a final pull.
“Time for me to head home.” Avery turns to leave, but pauses when they notice Cas’ fingers had found theirs.
Leaning in, Avery lightly kisses Cas. “Would you like to come over?” They ask.
“Yes,” Cas answers before returning the kiss.
—
Meeting someone new, invites the possibility of disappoint.
—
“Would you like a drink?” Avery asks as they place bottle of red wine on the kitchen counter.
“No, I’m alright,” Cas replies.
“Okay. Well, I’m going to have a glass.” Avery pours themself one and takes a brief drink.
Hovering the glass by their lips in their left hand, Avery walks closer to Cas, motioning for her to back up against a dividing counter.
“Hold this for me,” Avery says as they hand off the glass. While, their right hand begins to trace a line up from Cas’ waist, brushing lightly across her chest and collar, up a flushed neck, where fingers gently curl around the base of Cas’ head. Tilting slightly to the side, Avery leans in and begins kissing the side of Cas’ neck.
Flustered, Cas carefully places the glass of remaining wine safely further down on the dividing counter. Her attention is divided between Avery’s driven lips and now free and wandering left hand. Firm fingers rise up Cas’ thigh before curving in.
Following a gasp at the sudden sensation, Avery centers both hands on Cas’ lower back as they lock eyes.
“Mind if go down on you?” Avery eagerly asks as their hands curve down over Cas’ ass.
“Fuck yes! Eh I mean, I don’t mind,” Cas breathlessly corrects.
A playful smirk forms on Avery’s yearning lips as they lift Cas onto the dividing counter. Her hands rest on Avery’s head as they begin to kiss their way down.
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—
Yet, the risk of disappoint does not outweigh the experience of intimacy.
—
Unable to sleep, Avery carefully slides out from under Cas’ spooning arm and leg. They replace their absence by pulling the blanket further over Cas. Before leaving their room, they gently brush a strand of hair from her face. Surprised by their own gesture.
Getting attached already? Their inner thought questions.
Ignoring that, Avery continues to the living room where they had set up a sort of blanket bundle in anticipation of watching the coming snowfall through their balconies sliding door. Plopping down on the stacked cushions, they drape their favorite blanket about them.
Are we to continue our earlier conversation?
‘No, I don’t have any cigarettes on me.’ Avery thinks.
And so as time slips into the early hours of morning, Avery sits in comfort while their mind plays a reel of painful memories. It is as if the snow became the faces of those that were once a part of Avery’s life, drifting down to become a collection of regret made manifest.
“Here you are,” Cas calls from the doorway of Avery’s room before walking over.
“You found me,” Avery answers, smiling up at Cas. “Sit with me.” They spread the blanket about them open and gesture for her to sit between their legs.
“Okay, but it’s my turn to be the big spoon. Lean forward.” Clumsily, yet charmingly so, Cas slides down Avery’s back, pulling the thick blanket over them both.
Cas’ arms invite Avery to lean back by enveloping them, coming to rest across their chest and waist.
Avery’s eyes track the falling snow through the sliding door, as they begin to resume their solemn thoughts. Until, Cas breaks the silence with a question.
Bringing her cheek to rest on Avery’s head, Cas asks “Besides when trying to pick someone up, why else do you smoke?”
Deciding to be honest, Avery answers “I normally smoke when I find myself debating suicide.”
“I’m sorry,” Cas replies while holding Avery closer.
“Don’t be, I’m glad you came along when you did. And, for this,” Avery says as they overlap Cas’ arms with their own.
“And the bridge…” Cas begins to say.
“My career started out in downtown, at a job that quickly became depressing. Most late nights had me passing over that bridge. Eventually, I started taking my time crossing it. At first it was something like a glance at the water, but eventually it became several minutes of just watching the canal,” Avery explains.
Cas’ hand begins to idly pass across Avery’s chest, unsure of what to say. Her fingers find a scar below their right collar. “How’d you get this?” She asks in an attempt to change the subject.
“I got that one some time ago.” Their voice drops as they continue, “there was a woman calling for help one night. It was an attempted mugging. But, the woman wasn’t giving in. I tried to help… but things didn’t go well.” Avery falls silent.
The extended pause makes it clear that Avery doesn’t want to say anything more on it. Having found herself in another difficult conversation, Cas let’s the silence continue. Gradually, she begins to notice many scars dotting Avery’s body. They all appear to be faint, only carrying a hint of their history.
“Sorry to have taken you from your friends,” Avery suddenly apologises. They bring up one of Cas’ hands to kiss her palm.
“Don’t be, they were more concerned about getting smashed anyways.” Cas leans in to kiss Avery. “Besides, you’re the only one to pay me any attention,” she adds.
Avery recognizes the faint smile and the sadness it covers. “Cas, thank you for tonight.”
“Don’t thank me,” she counters with a light laugh.
“So, you didn’t have any finals to get smashed over?” Avery asks, surprised by their own desire to learn more about her.
“Hmm?” Cas asks.
“Around this time, it’s common to see students drinking.”
“Oh! I guess it is a bit obvious.” Again, she laughs. It’s becoming a sound that Avery enjoys. “Some of my friends are going for their masters. I’m all done with that. But, they invited out.”
“So, how do you normally spend your day?” Avery asks, but thinking ‘When not picking up strangers on a bridge’.
“I’m an assistant programs director,” Cas answers. Though, it is not said confidently.
“Do you enjoy it?” Avery asks.
“I did, I do. The job has just changed quite a bit from when it started.” Cas’ answer mirrors Avery’s.
“Hmm I understand,” Avery says.
“It seems you understand a lot of things…” Avery feels Cas’ breath on their neck.
Glancing back, Avery sees that Cas has fallen asleep. They lightly kiss her cheek, before settling in to sleep as well.
‘Is it wrong for me to hope again?’ Avery thinks.
No, it never is.
Alexander J Hernandez 