Luckily in Love

Eight years old isn’t when most people find their soulmates. Yet, most people aren’t as stubborn as I was. I had stayed up all night, pushing away my parent’s attempts to get me to sleep, and nothing was stopping me till midnight. I would stay up for the ball drop, the clock stroke, the new year. It seemed so exciting, even for the first time. It was a brand new start, in more ways than one. 

I had just moved to a new state, and mom had said that the New Year would be the perfect starting point. I will be starting a new school next week and meeting all my new friends. It had seemed so perfect, a bigger bedroom, bigger school, and more independence. My first act of new found independence was to stay up till midnight on New Years Eve. 

“Carmen! Can you come into the kitchen?” my mother yelled, her voice echoing from the hallway. I had burrowed into my room, keeping myself occupied with puzzles and video games. Jumping from my bed, I ran down the hall, almost skidding into the wall. 

“Yeah, mom!” I answered, rushing to the kitchen. 

“Carmen, be careful. I just wanted to tell you that it’s almost midnight,” she said, clicking through her laptop on the kitchen table. 

“Yay!” I exclaimed, running to grab my jacket and gloves. She had promised me that we could go to the rooftop to watch the fireworks, but only if I managed to stay awake. I raced through the apartment, clawing on my shoes, and warm clothes. My mother patiently waited by the door, letting me explode myself through excitement. “Alright, I’m ready!” 

“Okay sweetheart. Let’s go.” she said, just before we walked out the door. 

…

The rooftop was filled with the other residents, their joyous chatter was mixing with the sound of the booming fireworks. There was a platter of snacks filling a small fold up table just a few feet in front of the stairs door. I spotted some other kids from the building, and rushed to greet them. 

“Carmen, hold on a second. This is a crowded area, I need you to be careful,” my mother warned, tightening onto my hand. She looked me dead in the eyes, with her lips tight and her brow furrowed. “Do you understand?” 

“Yes!” I answered, almost pulling my hand from her grasp. Then without any other hesitation or disruptions, I ran to the group of kids standing by the food table. Pushing past people's legs, and saying excuse me as much as possible. Just before I was with the group, I heard a small sob from behind me. I turned on my heels, tracing the crowd for any sign of distress. 

There were the other guests, mingling in conversation. My mother was picking at a board with an array of cheeses displayed. There were people just about crammed in every corner, making it feel anything but spacious. The little I could see from my height wasn;t helping. Until, I heard the low sound again, coming from the door to the stairs. 

I crept to the door, making my way through the crowd with much more hesitance. By the time I was by the door, I had deterred the noise from coming from the back of the small outing. Keeping my feet light, I snuck my head to the side of the brick. 

There was a small boy sitting there, his head bent over his knees. The boy’s frame was shaking, and I could vaguely hear his sobs from my spot. His dark skin was speckled with slight snow clumps, which couldn’t have been quite comfy. It had snowed about fifteen minutes ago, which meant he had been here a while. 

“Hey, are you okay?” I whispered, creeping closer to his hiding spot. He flinched, before looking at me with wide eyes. He had glasses that were slightly skewed to the left, and his eyes were bloodshot. The boy’s nose was slightly tinted pink, and I could vaguely see tear tracks along his cheeks. “It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“Okay,” he squeaked, shifting slightly to make room. His brow was still furrowed, and I could tell his hands were still slightly shaking. Yet, he was starting to become more curious than frightened. I sat down next to him, bringing my knees to my chest, and leaving a fair amount of room between us. 

“I’m Carmen,” I chirped, snaking out my hand for a handshake, which he rushed to meet. 

“I’m Danny. I haven’t seen you here before,” he said, and I braved myself not to flinch. 

“Well, I just moved here a few weeks ago with my parents,” I answered, hoping my slight blush wasnt that noticeable. 

“Oh,” he whispered, putting his head back to his knees. 

“Why are you here all alone?” I questioned, quickly trying to get him back. 

“My mom and I are moving to the country. They just told me before the party,” he responded, and I flushed when I realized I wasn’t making him feel much better. Just before I was going to question him more, my mother called me. 

“Carmen! It’s about to hit midnight!” she yelled, and I jumped to my feet. Rushing toward her, I watched as the fireworks went crazy, and the clock hit midnight. 

***

I didn’t think about the boy again, or at least not for a very long time. Every year though, I would see him. Hiding behind his mother, cowering away from the other children of the residence. His first year back my mom went to ask if they had moved back, but they were only back to visit Danny’s father who still lived in the building. 

Eventually, I grew up. Wearing more important clothes, my hair brushed, my shoes tied. I hated it, yet if I didn’t there would be no friends for me at school. The very last thing I wanted was to be alone. 

Yet, I was here, all alone at the New Years Eve party, because no other child wanted to hear my ‘obnoxious’ laugh. That was until Danny approached me, with two plates of cookies in his hands. He had walked through the crowded rooftop just to where I was resting. I watched as he approached me, and I looked curiously at the dessert. 

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, just as he was within a few feet. I shook my head, and he sat right next to me on the cool concrete. There was a brief awkward silence, where we looked at our feet, the cookies laid forgotten by our sides. “Any reason you’re all alone?” 

“The other kids don't like it when I laugh,” I responded, but there was a lot more than just that. They didn’t like my parents, or my fun ideas, all they wanted to do was sit by the fire and gossip. 

“Oh, well, how about I tell a joke? And I’ll see if your laugh is really bad. That's alright?” he asked, and I allowed myself a smile. He seemed so easy to talk to, like an old friend, not some kid you comforted four years ago, he grew up too. “So, what do you call a beehive without an exit?” 

“What?” 

“Unbelievable,” he answered, and it caught me off guard. I was expecting something formal, but it was truly just corny. I let out a small giggle, waiting for his expression of disgust. He would understand what the kids were saying, and up and leave. Waiting for the upturned nose, or the awkward glance to the side. 

Yet, nothing came, his split into a grin, and he let out his own small chuckle. 

“I think it's perfect,” he whispered, and reached for the plates resting by our feet. “Want one?” 

“Yeah thanks,” I chuckled, hiding my blush to the sky. He liked my laugh, and even thought it was perfect. There were thoughts jumping through my head, and I breathed the cool air to calm them. The cookie tasted delicious, and had a blended mix of chocolate and dough. 

“Danny!” a woman yelled, and he looked up. Just before he was rushing to the woman, he turned back to me. 

“Hey, I’ll see you later,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. I watched as he turned back to the crowd, running through the people. 

“Happy New Year,” I whispered to myself, and looked to the sky. The fireworks streaked the sky with a burst of color. Maybe next year, we could watch the New Year together. 

***

In complete honesty, I forgot about him. When I hit thirteen there were so many new things to worry about, school, friends, boys. The one kid from New Years was the least of my concerns. Then I turned fourteen, and the cycle continued, school, friends, boys. My entire life seemed to revolve around those three things. 

Yet, every New Years I would see him, laughing at the adults or reading a novel. He was a true wonder, and nothing pushed me to disturb him. Not until I was fifteen, and I had gotten one too many Hot chocolates. 

Danny was sitting by a fold up table, with a few chairs surrounding it. It wasn’t very far from the crowd, but enough you could see him when standing away. He appeared to be reading a book with crimson gold etchings on the front. 

Sneaking over to him, the mugs warming my palms, I placed the hot chocolates near his seat. 

“Mind if I sit here?” I asked, he flinched at the disturbance. 

“Of course not,” he responded, pulling out the chair in front of me. 

“Thank you,” I murmured, just before resting in the folding chair. He looked toward the Hot chocolate, and I nodded toward him. Danny gently lifted it to his mouth, making sure to blow over the rim. “So what are you reading?” 

“I’m re-reading this dragon series,” he said, placing the book on his lap. 

I asked more questions after that, little snippets of his life. Learning everything, from his school to the new layout of his room. I spoke of the writing I was picking up, and my new teacher.  It was different this time, not just two children, but young adults chatting. 

The night became a flurry of light conversation. We talked through the chime of the New yEar. Till the cleanup crew was clearing off the table, and our parents were leading us back to our apartments. 

Just before saying goodbye, I looked at him, with his smile and brown eyes. I didn’t know when the next time I would see him again, but I knew next time would be different, a little bit of ice had melted. 

***

The next time we sat down, interacted, we were eighteen, technically adults. Life had become a whirlwind in three years, my grandmother had gotten ill, my writing was starting to take off, and I was starting to get ready for college. 

I hadn’t been to a New Years party since I was fifteen, and yet I didn't forget Danny. Something about our last meeting had struck me, maybe due to our age, but nothing urges me to go to another party. We were both growing,gaining a bit more maturity. 

So this year, I had made time out of my day to sleep a few more hours to be prepared. I had gathered some blankets to fight the freezing December. Once it hit half past eleven I made my way to the rooftop. 

…

Usually, I find Danny. Sitting in a corner with a book, or even behind the stairwell. The only time he had come to me was the second time we met. Yet, this time he seemed to be waiting for me. Standing just outside the stairwell door. 

“Carmen! You made it,” he shouted, coming to greet me. 

“Danny, good to see you,” I replied, having slight trouble with keeping the blankets off the concrete. 

“Oh here. Let me help,” he grabbed a few, and pulled them into his arms. “Anywhere special you want to go?” 

“Anywhere where there is enough room,” I chuckled, and had a grin on his face. 

“Follow me,” he said, before heading beyond the stairwell. I giggled to myself and followed him, getting there just in time to watch him spread the blankts across the ground. 

He had laid himself on the top, and patted beside him. I plopped on the ground, making sure to adjust the blankets as needed. We were staring at the cityline, before my mind caught up to me. 

“Were you waiting for me?” I questioned, and he looked almost bashful. 

“Yeah, I was waiting,” he answered. 

“Why? I thought you would have forgotten about me,” I said, trying to not sound so gloomy. I thought over the years he would have fallen for someone else. He was cute, sweet, and smart. Yet, he was here, and still remembered me. 

“Of course not, that's just how you are,” he concluded, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. I stared at him, pondering what he meant. “Hey, can you promise me something?” 

“Sure, as long as it doesn’t involve money,” I joked, and he let his face fall into a grin, looking at the night. There was a bated moment where I wasn’t sure if he was going to respond. 

“Promise me, if you don’t forget about me, that we will meet in this spot a year from now,” he whispered, still staring at the sky. I could almost feel the insecurity in his voice, but maybe it was just my own. 

“That won’t be the promise. It will be you forgetting me,” I responded, then he shifted toward me with his brows furrowed. 

“My dear Carmen, I could never forget you. For that’s simply how you are. Plainly unforgettable,” 

“HAPPY NEW YEARS!” the crowd shouted and yet we were numb to the noise. Just the sheer yelling had managed to break our trance. I stared at him once more, making sure he was real, before glancing back at the fireworks. 

This night had been plainly, simply, unforgettable. 

***

I felt like I was going crazy that year. Keeping everything in me to wait for him. I thought I would see him in the coffee shop, at my job, in the apartment. He was always in my mind, his smile, his hair, his eyes.

 I began to count down to New Years, till the holidays would subside. It felt like I was eight years old again, stubborn to get what I wanted. The days after Christmas felt like they were ripping a small part of my soul apart, leaving me with a gaping wound. 

I would go upstairs, just to make sure he hadn’t come a few days early. Watching the city at night, the bustling noise, and feeling the chill seep into me. The day before New Years Eve, I waited by the train station. Never going in, just meandering around the entrance, with no Danny in sight. 

Yet, I had complete faith he would be there. On New Year's Eve, I had put on my coat, and shoes, rushed to the door, and made my way to the rooftop. 

…

I had found him behind the stairwell, same place, eleven years later. He was resting with hot chocolate and cookies, sitting atop a blanket, another wrapping around his shoulders. There were no pleasantries this time, just a gesture for me to sit down, and a hand with another blanket.  

We had grown

“You know we always miss the strike of midnight with each other,” he commented, breaking the warm silence. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, either one of us gets called off by our parents, or we too preoccupied to worry about the time,” he responded, “This year maybe,” 

I laughed, picking apart the chocolate cookie. This time felt there was more weight behind his words, it felt more official. We both had been waiting for this all year, Danny had even come prepared. This didn’t feel like this was the last time, it felt more like a beginning. 

“Would you like to hang out with me tomorrow?” he asked, again breaking the tension. 

“Yeah, I would like that,” I responded, and that was it. We had a date, or a hang out, together. First time without being on top of thai rooftop, without having the cover of sweet darkness. 

We were nineteen now, and maybe we could make this work. Maybe it wouldn't, maybe this was supposed to be a New Year's only relationship. We weren’t meant for the everyday day experience. 

Yet, as I stared at his face. The dark chestnut skin, his slight twerk of a smile, I felt a surge of confidence. This love wasn’t meant for the people of cowardice. This was the love for the most brave, the most stubborn. 

To him I was unforgettable, his own little personal heaven, his break from the burden of life. He was my awaited dream, the kind you think of when wishing away the long day as you sit with hot chocolate and watch a romantic comedy. 

The fireworks boomed, and I looked at my phone. 

11:55 

We had time, we might not miss the new year. I stood up in a rush, and he was pulled with me. We pushed into the crowd, we looked to the sky, and marveled at the thundering fireworks. Danny wrapped his arm around me, and I snuggled into his chest. I was warm, safe, content. 

“7,6,5,4,3,2,1! Happy New Year!” the crowd shouted, exploding with applause. Couples kissed, children screamed, people hugged. I looked at Danny, and he held me tighter. This new found relationship was going to be different. 

But maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. 

Eight years old isn't when most people meet their soulmate, but I guess we're just lucky.