Dating Down

Woodbury, Minnesota

Copyright Information

Dating Down
© 2015 by Stefanie Lyons.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover models used for illustrative purposes only and may not endorse or represent the book's subject.

First e-book edition © 2015

E-book ISBN: 9780738745053

Book design by Bob Gaul
Cover design by Ellen Lawson
Cover image by iStockphoto.com/21659601/©-1001-www.youworkforthem.com/E0658
Vespa illustration by Justin Lawson

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Manufactured in the United States of America

For all the girls who've dated down

and picked themselves right back up.

I will call him X.

X

for the reasons I crossed him out of my life.

X

for the number of times I plunged into self-destruction.

X

because his name would only give him a place in your mind

that he does not deserve.

We Begin

I check out

X

with stolen stares

after school

over coffee

under piles of books.

Café Hex—

dingy

yellow

red

gray

X—

cool

calm

smooth

clashes with the warm colors.

Hex seems like a circus.

A messy, disorganized carnival.

Jinxed as if it

might go under any second.

Fold the tents and pack up

the bearded lady.

X—

stacks dishes

wipes tables

long arms

glide over coffee rings.

Concentrating,

he pours coffee

as I pore over homework.

Chemistry and Algebra.

Does
a
equal
b
?

Or is
a
only a fraction of
b
when divided by point seven?

I'm just a junior, but

I can't wait for art school

… where less is more

less structure

less law

fewer fatherly obligations.

Pushing paint along canvas,

my goals
breaking
my gouache
breaking
my drive.

Not part of the political push for: Senator Henderson.

Art is when it's all about me:
breaking
Samantha Henderson.

I sip coffee

stare

across the café.

X leans his lanky frame

crisscrossed

against the counter.

Steaming pots of coffee

halo his head.

What brings me here over and over?

The colors?

The chaos?

The cute new employee?

This circle of thought
small
swirls

round and round

in my brain.

X steps outside.

Does he smoke?

Or is his shift over?

I wonder. Work faster.

Finish my assignments before the

out of business

sign goes up and

the sideshow skips town.

The ringmaster is leaving!

Show's over, folks!

My cue to go,

he's no longer around to fill my cup.

My hope to return,

he'll be here, same time and table.

As for what's next?

My canvas awaits.

One Day at Café Hex

I ask if there are any chocolate muffins.

X

plops down

across from me

smelling of lemons and tobacco.

Delicious
.

I feel studious and stupid.

My palms dampen.

I dry them on my jeans.

His nose sports a cast,

a post-party drunken fiasco.

Unsuccessful friends—mostly girls—signed

the tiny clump of plaster

Mara

Rose

T.J.

Jess

leaving a galactic pattern of purple ink

between his eyes.

His cheeks—warm? embarrassed?—blotch with red.

My favorite color.

I stare

past his cast

into his eyes.

We chat.

His eyes shine

vulnerable-yet-experienced

An older boy stopping to talk to a high school girl.

A mellow-type guy floating for a while—him.

A meticulous-type girl studying for finals—me.

X:
breaking
I do what I please.

Me:
breaking
I can't seem to please anyone.

Thinking of my father's motto—

If you can try, then you can try harder.

His eyes

hover over me like a spaceship

searching for a safe place to land.

They

survey my books, my notes.

This isn't the real me!
I want to say.

I'm a painter! An artist!
I want to say.

Me:
breaking
I have finals.

He shifts his weight

and the luster in his eyes fades.

Does he think I'm naïve since I still live out of a locker?

One semester of college

and he had to take the next few off.

No money.

All twenty-two years of him, strapped for cash.

X:
small
Life's really the learning experience.

Me:
small
I want to learn about life. All of it.

He changes the subject to

his friends' band
breaking
his apartment with them

a party they threw
breaking
his hangover

coffees at noon
breaking
writer, drummer, bass player

the song they wrote
breaking
a poem he riffs

He's a free spirit living a true artist's life.

So much more interesting than

Ted.

Athletic-headed Ted.

Immature,

emotionally dead

Ted.

So much more interesting,

X.

College-boy X.

Older,

indie, hipster

X.

I know nothing about his world

living on his own

bands

underground parties

no longer being a teenager

I only know mine.

And mine,

isn't that interesting anymore.

The Life

Livin' the life.

The less-than-stressful life.

The paint-my-own-fate life.

Canvas covered in

cafés

coffee

cream and sugar?

oil and acrylic?

Frida O'Keefe

Claude Gauguin

Pablo Warhol

My going-all-night

'til-nothing's-left

wrong-or-right life.

A life.

Alive.

Up in the rafters of freedom

down at the dive

bar none

havin' fun

footloose and fancy free

homework free

high school free

be all I can be in Bohemia

painting the town

painting my day

painting the night

My own post-modern impression

unrated, full-frame, opening night

at the gallery

life.

Oh I wish I were …

… livin' my life.

Consulting April, Pt. I

PickupPickupPickupPickupPickupPickupPickupPickup

April's phone goes into voicemail:

I'm out being fabulous. Leave a message
.

Since when is April a gal about town?

A gal about

eyeliner—yes

comfy jeans—sure

but fabulous?

The ever-shifting landscape of my friend.

I do as I'm told.

Me:
small
It's me, Sam.

Was just at Hex and wanted to—

My phone beeps.

April.

Before I can say hello, she's off and running.

April:
small
How dare he …

what a lump …

taken for granted …

honestly, Sam, he's too much!

The Problem with Ralph
.

A topic usually reserved for

school hallways

the cafeteria

Chemistry

English

Study Hall

locker rooms

before final bell

after pep rallies

and daily texts.

In other words …

I give my basic speech.

Me:
sm
He's a dolt …

April:
sm
You're right!

Me:
sm
Doesn't care …

April:
sm
I know!

Me:
sm
He's rotten.

April:
sm
He is!

Me:
sm
You can do better,

speaking of better …

April:
sm
I can!

So, what's up?

I feel dizzy with excitement.

New-boy jitters.

I inhale just as April's phone beeps.

It's Ralph.

Me:
small
I thought you just said—

She puts me on hold.

What good is a life on hold?

Consulting Gavin, Pt. I

Gavin:
sm
Oh Henderson, why do you hang out in such seedy places?

Me:
sm
Seedy? It's a coffee shop.

Gavin:
sm
Barney's has a coffee shop.

Me:
sm
And very expensive clothes.

Gavin:
sm
Exactly!

Me:
sm
That's not why I called.

Gavin:
sm
You met a guy!

Me:
sm
How'd you know?

Gavin:
sm
I'm all-knowing.

Is he cute?

Me:
sm
He's older. And tall. Very tall.

Gavin:
sm
And cute?

Me:
sm
Yes, he's cute.

Gavin:
sm
As cute as George?

Because, George is dreamy.
Isn't George the dreamiest?

Me:
sm
A real dreamboat.

Gavin:
sm
Great. Now we've got that settled.

Why are my friends so annoying when in love?

Gavin:
sm
So, he asked you out?

Me:
sm
What's with the twenty questions?

Gavin:
sm
I'm curious! … I'm nosy!

Me:
sm
Thought you were all-knowing?

Gavin:
sm
I'm waiting …

Me:
sm
No, we just talked.

Gavin:
sm
When he does, make sure he pays.

You're worth it.

Me:
sm
Don't be archaic.

Gavin:
sm
College boys should pay.

Me:
sm
He's not in college.

Gavin:
sm
You said he's older. Do we need to talk about this?

Me:
sm
No! He's college age. Just not in college.

Gavin:
sm
Then what's he doing?

Me:
sm
Working.

Gavin:
sm
Good! So he can afford to take you out!

Me:
sm
He's laid-back. And cool.

Gavin gasps.

Gavin:
sm
He sounds adorable!

Me:
sm
I think he is.

Gavin:
sm
Then have him take you somewhere other

than that grimy café.