She Was a Mysterious Girl

She was a mysterious girl, I thought to myself as I sat on my couch. Even her apartment was mysterious. I'd known her for years, but have only seen glimpses of her apartment. Usually from outside the door. So I wasn't surprised when we ended up on my couch. She would be beside me one moment and then in the blink of an eye, up and about. Rifling through things, talking a mile a minute. She would lock herself away in my room and then come out, minutes later, wild-eyed and refreshingly frazzled. I'm pretty sure she was on drugs. But what drugs? And whose? Despite this all, she suited me fine. I recall her hair, standing out in all directions. Like a raging fire in a storm.


The storm was outside. We could hear it as it brushed against the windows. Across the room from the windows we sat on the couch. It wasn't much to look at, but it was awfully comfy, especially with the weight of two. On the couch we were settled. I thought to myself, 'what a good time'. We were watching TV later on in the night when something most unordinary occurred. A crazy large bunch of people I had never seen before raged into my apartment. Right when silence took over, it was broken. Guys and girls milled about in my living room, in front of me and my mysterious feminine companion. The group was slightly wet as a vicious storm was brewing outside. They claimed to be friends of my roommate. It seemed to take them a longer amount of time than normal to realize that it was time for them to leave. After a lot of awkwardness, they left, determined to party on this frightful night. I was almost relieved. Just as I was exhaling a very large breath I looked to my left. Next to my oak lion footed end table, in between the entrance to my kitchen and my decorative halogen light there was a beige easy boy recliner, and on that recliner sat a tall thin boy who I had never seen before.


Nothing was said for a while. Possibly, you could say that my mysterious girl and I exchanged deep, meaningful glances. I lifted an eyebrow and gave a stunned look saying: "I don't know who he is, and I don't know how to get rid of him." She understood me. And acted. Her glance was sharper and more determined then my own. It said: "just wait and see what I've got in store for you."


I sat back and finished my exhalation.
She had it under control, and everything was going to be ALL RIGHT. She concocted a story for us. We were to leave the apartment and visit hers for a bit. It was cold and stormy, but we wouldn't be going far. As we hurried under the trees to her place, it still concerned me that a possible stranger was in my apartment alone. I'm not sure if I locked my door. I start to worry but can't finish because I'm in a nasty headlock. She's got her legs in a scissor hold around my neck. I'm going to have to make a mental note not to think while wrestling. One moment you'll be quietly reminiscing the mental stamp of how her hair looked like fire despite the rain we were running through and the next you'll be pinned at an awkward angle, legs akimbo trying to maintain balance. I had to start biting and pinching to get out. I won't say I'm proud for the biting and pinching, but winners don't have to be proud as long as you win.


She explained that we'd make a call. Not us personally, but one of her roommates. He might recognize our voices. "We mustn't arouse any suspicions" she explained. I concurred and a call was made. Her roommate called and asked for me. For a second, I thought about the whole absurdity of the situation. I couldn't believe that this total stranger was both in my apartment alone, AND he was answering our phone! "What else was he doing?" I wondered. Did I put away my glazed donuts? I sure hope so. I know damn well enough that if I were left alone in a stranger's apartment, the donuts would be the first to go. I'd be on them like stink on poo. This thought angered me. I was relatively sure from the glance I received earlier that something positively heinous was in store. this thought soothed the anger.


We listened to the phone conversation from a beanbag chair in the corner. The general demeanor of the conversation revolved around the roomates sadness over the loss of a boyfriend several days ago. There were very convincing fake tears and sorrow filling the room. The stranger listened kindly to all the sordid details of a fake relationship. We found out the name of the stranger. Billy. I remembered thinking that the scene before me, almost epitomized the phrase: "Causing ill-drama." After a considerable amount of words and some drinks, the phone was hung up. An arrangement was made. The arrangement entailed that the stranger recieved the impression that he was to meet a girl named "Katie" at the tree by the chestnut pond. Katie needed to talk to someone.


Inspired by the drinks, I lifted myself off the beanbag chair, happily anticipating the return to my own apartment. "NO!" she said. "We need pictures!" So we hid out. we peered through the corner of a window on the top floor which over looked the chestnut pond. The water of the pond reacting to the brisk winds as it rippled like boiling water.


"Billy!" we'd yell.
"Katie?" He'd reply.


snickt! there's a picture. and we'd be gone. running to the window at the other end of the hall. "Billy, I'm over here!" "OK! I'm coming!" snickt! theres another picture. we could have gone on like that for hours, but we had to go. she explained the most important part of this plan.
"we must run back undetected. no suspicions!" in the shadows, under the trees we ran back. It's been almost an hour since the first time we ran under the trees and now there was noticeable more force behind their shaking limbs. we ran up the steps to my apartment two steps at a time to cut some seconds off the ascent. just in case.


the door is unlocked, opened, slammed shut, and locked in one quick motion.


we are back on the couch. warm, quiet, and relaxed. the storm is now raging outside. the windows tell us so. but again we are settled. and after much distraction, finally, I think to myself, 'what a good time'. I get a split second memory jog. I think about all the distraction that I've gone through to embrace this moment. I remember the voice mail I received earlier in the day from the girl lying against me. she pleaded for my company. I felt secretly special that anyone actually yearned for my attention. but there was no doubt, she used these words:
"I have so much work to do tonight, but if you'd be so kind as to visit me for a bit, I'd graciously embrace your distraction." we ignore the knocking. it is so not very important right now. Now, all that is important is her head of fire, tamed now, curled tight around my body. and I would do anything to keep it that way.