A Walk to Remember

Photo by Eric Ward on Unsplash

Soon after most of the party had left, Vikram and I decided it was our turn to take off as well. Over the past few hours, we’d danced to peppy party numbers, had some drinks and pretentiously scanned the place for eligible singles for self and one another. I realized I’d drunk more than I could handle when Vikram got protective of me while we grooved on the dance floor. He’d gestured it was time to leave.

“Emily,” he said, patting my shoulder when we reached the exit gate. “Wait here. I’ll get the car from parking.” I wanted to walk with him to the car, but the stilettos that I donned merrily throughout the party were now killing my feet. Also, it would be embarrassing to lose balance and trip in the parking lot. I didn’t want for Vikram to remember me as that drunken girl after tonight.

As he walked away, I tried to maintain my balance, resting my hands over the railing at the exit door. Maybe Vikram was right; perhaps the few drinks I’d had tonight were indeed too many. Vikram vanished into the parking lot in the bright car lights and I stood at the exit as people walked in and out of the venue, more out than in.

The world around you gets amusing when Tequila and vodka are fighting inside you to influence your thoughts. On one side there were boys laughing, besieging another tiny boy, probably bullying. There were few couples, exiting the party; some hand-in-hand, some lip-to-lip. Or maybe not; perhaps they were hand-in-hand too; probably the alcohol made me see them kiss. It was also likely that the group of big boys was singing “happy birthday” to the little guy in the middle and the tiny boy had a straight face out of embarrassment. It was hard to cognize reality.

I caught sight of a human figure run toward me from the parking lot. The bright lights emitting from cars exiting the venue cast shadow of the running man. It took my alcohol infused eyes a few seconds to adjust. When he was close enough, I realized it was Vikram, running breathless; probably he was tipsy too. When he was close enough, I realized he was laughing hysterically. He was trying to suppress his laughter to talk, but ended up palpitating.

“We rode the streetcar to the party, dumbo,” He finally found words, still giggling; and we burst out into erratic laughter. “You recommended taking public transit, remember?” He spoke, in a futile attempt of suppressing his laughter.

“Of course,” I responded, “we don’t have a good reputation in partying sober or driving drunk. We cannot be knocking garbage bins off the street throughout our way again.”

Thus, we rode the streetcar to & fro the party. The ride home was bumpy, but fortunately we’d both drank enough water to keep the alcohol down. We made every attempt possible to stay awake in the streetcar; chatting with each other, and gawking at strangers with ridiculously judgmental comments; but I hadn’t realized when had my head rested on Vikram’s shoulder and nodded off.

Vikram woke me up when it was our stop to get off. The streetcar dropped us at the entrance of our residential lane, just off Vikram’s driveway.

“You’re welcome to crash here if you’d like,” It wasn’t his first time making a stay-over proposition; neither would it be my first time sleeping over at his. Although, all our former sleepovers had been after house parties when everyone was too tired to leave; but tonight was different.

“It’s okay, I’ll walk. I’ll be home in less than 20.” I said. He opened his mouth to say something, but then rolled his eyes; probably dismissed a thought.

“Okay, text me when you get home?” He tossed the question at me and wrapped his arms around me. With the stilettos, I could rest my forehead on his shoulder.

I hugged him, few heartbeats longer than I usually would; inhaling his scent stronger, hoping he wouldn’t notice. It was weird that it wasn’t awkward; neither did he relax his grip around me nor did I budge.

“Ok,” I finally found words, “I’ll text.”

“Good night.” He finally let go. “I’d walk with you, but I’m too tired tonight.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine. Good night.” I smiled and started walking down the lane, determined to not turn and catch his sight.

Vikram and I lived on the same street; my townhouse was on the other end of the street, about half a mile from his. The street was lit with bright streetlights, edged by townhouses on North side and a manmade pond on the South. The reflection of the full moon off the bayou added to the illumination.

I chose to walk on the South side, walking over the sidewalk that ran alongside the parkland between the street and the pond. The light breeze from the pond was soothing. Also, the geese sleeping at the shore were the only livestock in the vicinity that made me comfortable.

As I walked, I couldn’t resist the thought that one of the couples exiting the party tonight, hand-in-hand or lip-to-lip, could have been Vikram and me; had we not casually dismissed the notion of being a couple.

We’ve been friends for over five years. We work in the same firm on the same floor. We mock our boss during lunch, had dated several different people and even badmouthed them together after the relationships went south. The office rumor-mill conjectured that we were a couple, which we ridiculously dismissed, “what is a bestie if not alleged to be beau.”

What we had was special, and perhaps neither of us wanted to jinx it. If it didn’t go as planned, we wouldn’t be the same anymore. We could probably still be friends, but it may not be the same anymore. Also, it could lead to a hostile work environment. Moreover, neither of us certainly knew if the other person was romantically into them.

A rustle through the leaves interrupted my train of thought. I turned to look back, and was amazed to see Vikram walking behind me.

“What’re you doing here?” I asked, stopping so he could catch up with me.

“I couldn’t let you walk alone this late at night,” he said. “I’ll walk with you.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll be fine.” We continued walking; he besides me, on my left.

“I know you’ll be,” he said. “But it is not very gentlemanly of me to let you walk alone.”

“Gentlemanly?” I giggled, “like that’s a word.” I raised my left elbow to nudge him.

Weird enough, my elbow crossed his without touching. I realized I was hallucinating, and he wasn’t really there. I turned to look around; I was the only person on the street. The breeze through the pond was getting stronger, causing the rustle. The lamppost in Vikram’s driveway was still lit, but the lights in the bedroom on upper story were off. He was one of those blessed people who fall asleep immediately after they fell in bed.

I continued walking down the street, hoping to not ruminate over Vikram any further. There was no reason to behave like a teenager. I stared at the cars in people’s driveways to keep myself distracted. I saw the hatchbacks, sedans and SUVs that others could identify with their makes and models.

About ten steps later, my thoughts drifted towards Vikram again. The conversations we’d had played in my mind, the things he usually said; gradual at first, slowly becoming prominent. I contemplated if we had made the right decision by not getting romantically involved. I wasn’t even sure if it was what I had sincerely wanted. I couldn’t resist the thought of how I’d feel if Vikram really started dating someone else. And, what would have happened if I’d agreed to sleepover at Vikram’s tonight.

I realized I had steered off the sidewalk into the parkland, thanks to the vodka and tequila from the bar. I saw Vikram again, standing few feet away from me, at the edge of the pond, gazing into the moonlit sky. The reflection of moon over the water added to the illumination, casting a silhouette of Vikram. I was certain I was delusional again when I saw myself walk toward him. I held his hand and leaned in, hoping he would kiss me. Vikram looked into my eyes; he had a calm smile and leaned toward me. A strong wind blew my hair across my face and disengaged me from my fantasy.

I hadn’t moved at all, I was still on the parkland, close to sidewalk where I had steered off from, looking at the pond and moon from a distance; and there were no signs of Vikram.

On marching a few steps ahead on the sidewalk, I was across the street from my townhouse. It was dark on the porch, but I could see the porch swing swivel. As I walked closer, I noticed Vikram on the porch swing.

It was certain I was hallucinating again. He was smiling my favorite crooked smile, revealing his perfect straight teeth, glistening under his perfect full lips. I rolled my eyes to ignore him and continued to unlock the door.

“That’s rude,” he said and hopped off the swing-set. I walked into the house, and he followed me. I made a voluntarily futile attempt to ignore my imagination, it was now getting sick. However, I realized I wasn’t hallucinating this time, when the lights in the living room turned on after he hit the switch.

He walked in and lounged on the couch.

“Are you for real?” I asked. “I was fine; you didn’t have to follow me.”

“I know you were fine, but it would not be very gentlemanly of me to let you walk alone.” He winked.

“Gentlemanly?” I giggled again, “like that’s a word;” this time my elbow nudging him.