Some days it doesn't interfere with my everyday life. I wake up and feel like a million bucks. Everything seems bright and sunny and full of promise. On days like these, I forget that I have the disease. But some days I wake up and I feel like my body is being eaten alive, turned inside out, beaten repeatedly with large heavy objects. On days like those, it's hard to get out of bed. I wish I didn’t have to deal with this. I wish I could go back to the days when I was just like everybody else. After all, it wasn’t that long ago when I was just like everybody else. It was only a month ago that I got sick.
*
I stalked out of my literature class and was immediately accosted by the sun, who sent evil rays of light directly into my corneas, causing me to turn temporarily blind. I grumbled a few curses under my breath and dug through my messenger bag for my sunglasses. Once I found them, I put them on. Because that is what you do when the sun is bright and you don’t feel squinting at everything. After a moment, my corneas recovered and I could open my eyes to a normal degree. Everything was blue. Why was everything blue? Did the sun actually damage my eyesight? Fucking sun. Who asked you to shine anyway? Oh wait, it’s just my blue-tinted sunglasses. Okay Mr. Sun, you got off easy this time...don’t let it happen again.
Swinging my bag over my shoulder, I started my half hour walk home. Unlike most of the spoiled rich bitches who attended this college, my Mommy and Daddy couldn’t afford to buy me a car for my high school graduation. So I actually had to walk to campus, or even take the TCAT sometimes. Oh, the horror. As I made my way down the stairs, my shoe laces decided to double cross me and join forces with the sun. They loosened up and fell out of the small bows I had previously tied them into, causing me to stumble and nearly break my neck. Fuck you shoelaces, fuck you. Once I got to the bottom of the stairs, I bent down by the TCAT bus stop to fix my assy shoelaces. Maybe I should just buy new shoes. No, then I wouldn’t be afford to pay my phone bill, and that wouldn’t make the phone company too happy. Oh damn that reminds me, I have to remember-
"Hey, do you have a light?"
I straightened up to face the guy who had interrupted my long, rambling, uninteresting thoughts. He wasn’t that tall, but taller than me, with slightly tousled dark brown hair. He was a little chubby, and wore a weird looking coat. It looked like an old, stupid, gray tweed dinner jacket. The kind with itchy, uncomfortable fabric, big clunky round buttons, and patches at the elbows. Who wears a jacket like that? Under that asinine jacket was a button down shirt, followed by khakis and big, heavy boots. I couldn’t see his eyes because, like me, he was also wearing sunglasses. And a necklace. And the hand that held a cigarette was adorned with many rings.
"Do you?"
I gave a sharp nod, to let him know I had heard him. "Yeah, I think I have one. Hold on a sec."
I dug through my bag again and managed to find the lighter I always had with me. I didn’t smoke, but I had bought the lighter off of a deaf-mute in the Charles de Gaulle airport in France, and I just thought it was a cool lighter. I snapped it open and held it steady while he lit his cigarette. As he bent over my lighter, I could smell some kind of aftershave on him. I didn’t know what brand it was, or anything retarded like that. Wearing perfume and aftershave is lame. He smelled pretty good though. He straightened up and took a drag, blowing smoke rings into the air. I don’t smoke and I think smoking is stupid and pointless, but I was slightly impressed with his smoke rings.
"Thanks, babe."
I raised an eyebrow at being called "babe." He noticed that and quickly added, "I mean that in a good way."
I should have just turned and walked away right then. But idiot that I am, I replied with, "Yeah, sure, no problem." I tossed my lighter back in my bag and was about to leave, but he stopped me with yet another question.
"Do you know what time it is? I’m waiting for the TCAT, and I don’t know if I missed it or not."
I saw a chain sticking out of his pocket, connecting to his belt loop. "Isn’t that a pocket watch you have?"
"Yeah, but the battery is dead."
"Then why do you still wear it?"
He grinned at me. "Because it’s cool."
"Well, it’s a quarter to three." I paused, then blurted out, "You don’t have a car?"
"Naw, I can’t afford one." He blew some more smoke rings. "Taking the TCAT?"
I shook my head. "No...walking."
"Cool, cool."
I nodded and started to feel awkward. Why was I still talking to this complete stranger? This complete stranger who dressed really weird. I took a step back, to continue my journey home.
"Well...later."
"Later. And thanks again for the light."
"Yep."
The entire 30 minutes home, I wasn’t thinking about my literature homework, or the TV show I’d have to direct later, or what I was going to make for dinner. I should have been thinking of ways to protect myself from the sickness this stranger was going to infect me with, but I didn’t know he was contagious. All I was thinking on the walk home, was how I wished I knew what color his eyes were.
*
As you might have guessed, this fashion victim, chain smoking weirdo was the one who would give me the disease. I wish I could go back in time and stop myself from talking to him. He would have asked me for a light, and I would have told him to fuck off. I didn’t get the disease right after that first encounter. But it was the ignition in a short chain of events which led to him giving me this fucking curse. The first time I saw him, it was a Monday. The second time, it was a Wednesday.
*
I strolled out of my literature class, and was mildly aware of what a beautiful day it was. It seemed like there was just the right proportion of fluffy cloud to blue sky, and there was also a cool breeze. I didn’t really need the sunglasses today, but I put them on anyway. It made the blue sky look cerulean. I shook my head in amusement at the fact that I even knew what cerulean was. I guess all those minutes of reading the Crayola crayons paid off. I approached the stairs and froze momentarily, seeing the Weirdo at the TCAT stop again. I shrugged it off and continued down the stairs...casually. I thought I could just sail past him and he wouldn’t notice. I mean, who would remember the random girl who stopped for a minute and a half to light your cigarette? I wouldn’t. I told myself to just keep walking, he wouldn’t remember me.
"Hey, what’s up?"
Well, I’ll be damned. I stopped and turned to see what travesty of an outfit he was wearing today. There was that awful jacket again. This time it was over a plain white t-shirt and jeans. But he still had his boots, rings, necklace, cigarette and those sunglasses. Damn.
"Hey. Not much. You?"
He shrugged. "Same old."
I noticed the cigarette in his hand was unlit. "Need a light again?"
He grinned, and this time I noticed he had nice teeth. Straight, and white but not freak-me-out-abnormal white. A normal kind of white. I held out the lighter and he bent his head down again over my lighter. His hair fell over his eyes a little. I wanted to brush it away for him, but I didn’t. That would probably weird him out. He straightened up and took a deep drag, then coughed a couple times.
"Good, huh?" I said dryly.
"Damn straight." He held out his pack of Marlboro Lights. "Want one?"
"No thanks, I don’t dig cancer on a stick."
"Fair enough."
I put the lighter away, but a little slower than last time. I noticed he had a messenger bag, like me. But his was black, and covered with patches of bands and stuff. Mine was green and had nothing on it. He must have seen me reading one of his patches because he said, "You into them?"
"I’ve heard of them, but I’m not really familiar with their music."
"You should download some of their songs. They’re amazing. The songs aren’t written like regular lyrics, they’re poems set to music."
"How do you know they’re poems set to music? Why aren’t they just lyrics?"
"I write poetry, I know it when I see it."
I stared at him for a moment. He seemed way too intelligent for a weirdo. He was well-spoken, into poetry and music? He’s got to be pulling my leg.
"You write poetry?"
"When I’m inspired."
He pursed his lips into an "O" shape and blew some smoke rings into the air.
"Where did you learn to do that?"
"What, blow smoke rings?"
"Yeah."
"I don’t know...practice I guess."
He took a drag, and I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. It was that time again, that time when the conversations lulls and it feels really awkward and you don’t know whether to try and keep talking, or run away. I opted to run away.
"Well I’ll see you later I guess." I turned around and hurried away, without bothering to listen for his reply. As I walked home, I wasn’t thinking about his eyes. Instead I was wondering what it would be like to touch his full, pouty lips. And press mine against them. My cheeks were burning red, but I smiled all the way home.
*
I hate playing the "What If" game. I can never win it. I can sit here and "What If" myself all day long, and it won’t change the fact that my life is changed because of this jerk-off. I shouldn’t have been so preoccupied with his stupid eyes and his stupid lips. I should have been more aware of what was beneath the surface. I should have seen what he was really like. I should have known. I first came in contact with him on Monday, and after Friday, it would be too late.
*
I skipped out of my literature class and grinned at the sky. The sun was on my side today. Instead of attacking me, he was showering me with his warm, golden rays. I closed my eyes and smiled, feeling the warmth flood throughout my body. The sky was cerulean again, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I couldn’t decide if I was disappointed with this or not. On one hand, I loved the big, puffy balls of cotton stretched throughout the sky. But on the other hand, there was something comforting about endless gallons of blue. It was like looking at the sea, only above your head, not below your feet.
The stairs were in my eye sight, and my heart beat a little quicker, at the anticipation of whom might be at the bottom. I quickly smoothed out my hair and wiped at my nose, just in case there might be something unpleasant hanging off it. There wasn’t though. I bounded down the stairs and tried to fight back the grin that was threatening a coup d’etat over my face.
He was there again, and this time his cigarette was already smoking. He saw me coming down the stairs and smiled, his lips curling back playfully.
"So we meet again."
"So we do."
He held up his cigarette. "I remembered to bring matches today."
I took a step back. "I guess you don’t need me then."
"I wouldn’t say that."
I could feel my cheeks flush and I tried to think of a clever retort. I couldn’t. Instead I found myself saying, "Where’s your jacket?"
He wasn’t wearing the tweed jacket today. Instead he was simply wearing a black long sleeved shirt with a high collar and jeans. And his rings, necklace, boots and of course the sunglasses. He glanced at his chest, as if he couldn’t remember what he was wearing. Then he looked back at me and shrugged.
"Didn’t feel like it. ...... Where are your sunglasses?"
I shrugged back. "Didn’t feel like it."
He took a step towards me and seemed to be peering at me intently. I couldn’t tell though, because of his sunglasses.
"Interesting."
"What’s interesting?"
"Your eyes have some green in them. I thought they’d be brown."
A chuckle escaped my throat, and I smiled at the ground. I could feel my cheeks burning. I wanted to put out the fire...but burning felt so good. I looked back up at him, and he was still smiling at me. Still peering at me through those sunglasses.
I always thought I was in control of my actions, but apparently I was mistaken. Before I knew what was happening, my hand was reaching out. Reaching over. My hand slowly touched the sunglasses. Delicately took hold of them. Carefully removed them. Hazel green eyes stared into blue gray eyes. Thoughtful eyes. Playful eyes. Intense eyes. Cold and warm at the same time.
"If you’re going to steal my sunglasses, you might as well tell me your name."
I held out his sunglasses and I told him my name. I watched as full lips parted and words spilled out of them, informing me that his was Jack. He reached for his sunglasses, and our fingers touched ever so slightly.
It was in that moment, that my life changed.
It was in that moment, that I became infected.
It was in that moment, that I fell in love.