Beyond the balcony

It’s Friday night, twenty o’clock, and I just want to go home.

My best friend Melissa brought me to another party, as she often does, and I begrudgingly accepted, as I often do. I don’t even know why I came, by “best friend” dropped me after ten minutes to get high and she was now fondling over some hot guy. This time it was Josh, some empty-headed big arms football player. Good luck, Melissa. At least she was good looking, as for me, I was average at best. Light brown straight hairs, brown eyes, discreet smile and pointy nose, too tall, too skinny, I was good old Emma the Asparagus. Not that I was hunting for guys, but it’s been ages since my last relationship.

“Amazing night, isn’t it?

Speaking of guys, here came some drunk idiot screaming in my face, barely audible under the blasting music of Kim’s Spotify playlist.

“Yeah, really cool. I need some fresh air.”

“WHAT?” he screamed, spilling a bit of beer on my shoes.

I sighted and walked around him. Thankfully, Kim’s parents had a large balcony. There were already a few pot smokers chilling, but I could find an free space between two clouds. At least here the music was less loud.

I contemplated the boulevard below. If I fell from there, I would certainly die. Not that I wanted to end my life, but it was sometime the kind of dark thoughts that sometime flashed me by. Melissa called them my spooky moments. Having nothing better to do, I spat on the sidewalk, then took a deep breath. It smelled bad. It smelled like the inner city. I masterful melange of trash, gas, urine and sewers. Wonderful. I hated that city, but never left its borders. Even when I had to choose a university, I went to the local college, the one I walked by every morning since I was a kid. A safe bet, for a safe major in accounting, for a safe life. “The best risk is no risk”, said my mother. Yeah, thanks mom.

I was wondering if I should sneak out and return to my apartment to… I don’t know, read a book, take a walk and go to bed, the only things I seem to still like at my age, when I saw her. A girl around my age, green hairs, dark, trendy outfit, long boots and painted lips. I wish I had her style! I felt so beige in my… beige top and burgundy skirt. I never saw her before, and God knows I have been a professional party backbencher for the past year. I couldn’t stop looking at her. She felt so… familiar.

“Pfff, Josh is already kissing Tiffany, I was too slow”, said Melissa, popping out of nowhere. “Hey, got a join?”

“Melissa, have you ever seen that girl?”

“Green goblin over there? No… Who cares.”

“I do. Find me who she is, and I’ll find you a join.”

“Give me five minutes.”

I asked around, trying my most seducing look to beg a join with no avail, until the green haired girl passed me one and winked. I felt weird, she was helping me bribe Melissa to know more about her. It was a bit ironic, I usually loved ironic situations like that. When my best friend came back after ten minutes, I gave her the marijuana.

“Thanks,” she said, quickly taking and lighting it. “But I no one knows her, not even Yellen. And you know Yellen… She’s probably either a weirdo, or an exchange student.”

“But she seems so familiar!”

“Come one, forget it, let’s dance!”

She pulled me on the dance floor, as a song from the Black eye peas made the walls tremble with the beat. I danced a bit with Melissa, not really into it, but I kept pretending. That was my whole life, my second name. Emma Pretending Benson.

After the second song, Melissa noticed a new prey and left me without notice, alone. I kept dancing, no knowing what I was doing or why I was even here, when the curious girl joined me. We said nothing, just dancing together, both as badly and awkwardly. She looked me dead in the eyes the whole time. I didn’t know what she was thinking or what she wanted, but for a moment I had… fun? Yes, I think that was the word. What is fun, anyway? Laughing? Or just forgetting the advance of time and the perception of self for a brief instant? It was like being high, but cheaper.

“Want to drink something?” I asked her, a bit out of breath.

“Nah. Let’s take a walk. I love walking.”

“Me too!”

***

It was so quiet in the streets. It felt relieve to quit the party. She proposed to grab a cup of tea, which I of course agreed. Tea was my true best friend.

“So, what do you do for a living?” I ask her.

“I am completing my major in literature and working part-time at a publishing house. I also get some copywriting contracts from here and there, nothing crazy, but it pays for the noodles. You?”

“Accounting.”

Wow, that was eloquent. I guess that’s the whole of me.

“You don’t look like an accountant.”

“I am not one yet, I still have another year and a half to do. I will order my mandatory brown socks after I get my diploma.”

We both laugh at my stupid joke, then took a sip. We took the same tea; orange pekoe.

“Are you new in town? I never saw you before,” I said to keep the conversation going.

“Not really, I lived there my whole life, but I moved out for college. I went far away, as far away as possible.”

“Lucky you,” I mumbled automatically.

We turned the Fifth Street, then naturally went for a little park. We both sat on a swing and twiddle with our half cold cup in hand.

“Emma, what do you really want?”

“I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want.” I sang jokingly.

“Ha-ha. Don’t evade the question. I know you are not meant for accounting. Nor for partying every Friday. Nor for this damn city.”

“I… I don’t know. It seemed my whole life I just followed the path people told me was best. I assumed happiness would come along the way.”

“Did it?”

“Well… Not yet. I still have time; I am only twenty-two.”

“What if it was waiting for you on another path?”

“I say that would be very sad.”

I finished my cup in one gulp, I didn’t want to talk about that anymore. But she did.

“Emma, there is still time, but not much.”

“What are you talking about? You don’t know me. Have YOU found happiness?”

“It’s not perfect, it never is. But everyday I find something that bring me joy, pride or fulfillment. And is it not the purpose of life, Emma?”

“I never told you my name. How do you know me? Who are you?”

“Comme on, I know you know my name too.”

I looked at her, from head to toes. She was tall, thinly built. Her hairs were green, but her eyebrows still brown. She had a discreet smile and a pointy nose.

“You are…”

“Emma. Nice to meet you. I am Emma.”

“Am I dead?”

“That’s the first thing that pops into your mind? You might as well be, little accountant. I am you, I am what you could have been. I am what you can still be.”

I felt dizzy, going crazy. My breath was increasing, I wanted to run. I wanted to run as far as possible, but Emma, the other Emma (or was it?) sat me down on the cold grass.

“The difference between you and me”, she said, “is that I accepted the scholarship in literature at Branford’s state. You know, the one you applied on your own, without telling mom? The one you kept in your underwear’s drawer for a year, before finally choosing the “safe option” so close from home?

“I didn’t want to disappoint them. I was young and scarred. It’s too late now.”

“No, it’s not, you are still young, you just said it. What if you filled the form again? What if you got accepted and moved next semester?”

“I don’t think I have the will to fill an admission anymore. I have an apartment, I go to classes, I have a loan already. In life, you never get a second chance.”

She kneeled, searched in her purse, then gave me a thick brown envelope. It already had the stamps and addresses.

“There, it’s filled. All you need to do is mailing it.”

I took the envelope, then froze. I saw the mailing box, bright red, waiting for me in the middle of the park. Was it there yesterday? I looked at my greener self, then at the envelope. Could there really be a second chance? I had to try it. I had to be able look from a balcony and see the horizon instead of the concrete. Still hesitant, I walked to the mailbox, opened the squeaky trap door, then dropped the envelope.

“What now?” I said, turning around.

She wasn’t there, only a brown cup of beverage. I took it, it was once again warm and full.

I was once again warm and full.

I walked toward my apartment, thinking of where to get boxes as soon as possible.

***

Three years later.

I didn’t missed this city, not a single moment. As the loud music dominated the floor of Kim’s house, I went to get some fresh air on the balcony. Then I saw her, tall, thin, long brown hair. She was bored and filled with anguished, trying to talk to everyone around her. I walked silently to her and grabbed something from my purse before handing it to her.

“Join?”