Three

Reality came back with a snap and I was suddenly aware of Luka calling me back and that all the eyes in the place were on me. My face flushed red and I hurried towards the door, past the boy who was yet to remove his lips from that creature’s, through the door and out onto the street. My heart beat filled my ears and I have the sudden urge to lean over the sidewalk and have my lunch vacate my stomach.  My a*s hit the pavement without me realizing as I slid down the side wall of Café Posh. I watched through hooded eyes as Luka walked by, obviously looking for me but missing my small form tucked into a ball in the side alley. I didn’t cry, I didn’t think I could even if I wanted to; my whole body was numb from pure embarrassment and sadness. So I wedged my head between my crumped up knees and stared at the concrete.

“Hey, are you alright?” I hurt my neck looking up for the source of the voice too fast; it’s him, chiselled jaw and all. “I saw you run out and I just…well…I don’t know what I am doing here actually.” He laughs and my heart leaps. I stood and fixed my clothing, unbelievably aware of his eyes watching me do so. But it wasn’t like when the men on the bus look at me, or whistle, I don’t feel vulnerable and violated I just feel…right. Speaking of his eyes, they were a deep green. A green I could get lost in, and currently was. I had to physically shake my head to clear it. He is once again rocking back and forth on his feet. “I…I…um…sound like an idiot.”

“Does the idiot have a name?” I asked, finally coming back to the real world.

“Yes, of course.” He returns my smile with a small chuckle.

“Can I know it…?” I hold back a burst of laughter, not wanting this boy to think I was laughing at his expense.

“Theo! My name is Theo. And you are?”

“I’m Teran.”

“Nice to meet you Teran, I’m Theodore.”

“Not that it’s not great to meet you Theodore (Theo, he corrected) but shouldn’t you be getting back to your…wife?”

“Wife…?” He said blankly as his face takes on a dreamy quality. “Oh s**t right, Clea. I do need to get back to my wife! As long as you are alright…”

“Yes, I am fine thanks. I just…not feeling well.” I say as I try to look anywhere but those eyes. When I fail even that simple task I found said eyes fixed on my exposed wrist. Quickly shoving my left hand in my pocket I clear my throat.

“Right well, here actually.” He digs in his pocket until he finds a small card which he hands to me. “If you aren’t feeling better in a couple days don’t hesitate to call.” With that he turns to leave, shooting one last glance over his shoulder at me before disappearing around the corner. I look down to see the white card is actually a business card.

 

Theodore Arlo,

Practising Healer, Central Hospital

85267-3

 

Healer, are you freaking kidding me? This damn fine man, with eyes that could kill with a look and hair that looks like it was styled be the lord himself, saves lives too! The world has got to be f*****g with me… I flip the card over in my hand a couple times before stuffing it in my back pocket. Pushing the palms of my hands into my eyes and dragging them down my face, I clear my mind of the left over haze from the conversation and leave the alley to try and find Luka.

 

The bus ride home felt different, in an extremely unsettling kind of way. I looked around for the changes that the city had obviously made to the transit system while I was a work that day but failed to see anything different. Same immaculate buses, same insulting smell, same bus ride… accept not. The sun beams hit my eyes and I bask in their warmth as I stare out the window. I notice the rays have started to melt away the snow that used to cover the ground and is making way for a new season. Suddenly the realization of why this day feels different from all the others hits me. The bus still smells the same, still looks the same, but I realize I don’t care. Because for the first time, I have other things on my mind.

I get off one stop early on a whim; I know the stop well because used to come here all the time. The recreational center is one of the only places in town where a person can get physical activity. Most frequented by children and people who have less demanding jobs, I stopped coming when I grew old enough to understand the pointlessness of it. Our society provides our meals, tells us what we can and can’t eat, and overall keeps us at our peak physical stamina. Even our monthly nutrition shot keeps our bodies perfect and running. So when I pull open the door all I see is young people and people who have too much time to kill.

“Hi, can I see your card please?” the too chipper worker requests as I approach the sign in desk. I hand over my card, the one all people are issued when they turn ten, and her eyes flick between the picture of me and the real thing before sliding the small plastic square through the reader. “Welcome back, I trust you remember the rules?” I nod, they are really not that hard to memorize really. Don’t infringe on others work out, don’t be too loud, and most importantly…don’t stay longer than allowed. “You have 47 minutes.”

47 minutes, 47 minutes of activity is what the company says I am support to do at my age, activity level, and gender. Any less and my nutrition shot will be modified for a sedentary lifestyle. Anymore and my file will automatically be sent over to the city psychiatrist, because if I do more than 47 minutes I am obviously too vain, or a health freak. Both of which earn me a warning stamp on my file and a slap on the wrist.