Eyebrows

“I mean I don’t think anyone really believes that it’s true,” Alyssa laughs, “I really wouldn’t worry about it”.

I clear my throat. But the flash of disappointment stays on my face just a moment too long. Long enough for Alyssa. 

“Oh….Oh!! You liked it! You wanted people to believe it! Hold on. Did you start this shit?” 

That’s ridiculous. Of Course not. I’m not smart enough to be that calculating. 

All I can do is scoff. 

A scoff has saved me many times– interrogations about crushes, compliments I had to brush off in order to appear humble yet brilliant, me assuaging my mom that “yeah obviously me and my friends are gonna go out and get drunk”, with an eye roll, acting as if it was the most absurd proposition despite the fact that it was absolutely what we had planned. 

But the train is squealing as it stops at 18th street. So she doesn’t even hear it. Her eyebrow is still raised. 

I have to scoff again.

I know that Alyssa believes me, and that’s because I’m telling the truth. At least about the last part. I didn’t start this shit. This marvelous, seductive, compelling, mysterious, awesome shit. But I want to know who did. That gorgeous, brilliant, puzzling, sexy, bizarre creature who took a moment of interest in my life. Enough to spread a rumor about little old me.

“Where are you going?!” Alyssa guffaws as I rise from the subway seat. Suddenly I’m compelled to get off the train a few stops early. “You can’t just get off the train to avoid this conversation!” 

Craig buzzes me in before I even say anything. I’m huffing and puffing trying to make it to the fourth floor. 

Oh great, he’s standing outside the door waiting for me. I’m gasping for air. Trying to fan my forehead so my bangs don’t grease up and start splitting. 

“Allie what the hell is going on” Oh good, he’s laughing. Good. Everyone thinks it’s funny.

I laugh back. Louder than him. I'm screaming really. Between gasps. Somehow I still have another set of stairs to go. It smells like shit. 

I finally make it to the fourth floor. “Sorry I’m sweating” He tries to hug me. I hold my nose. He does it anyway. “My whole ass is sweating.” 

“You shouldn’t talk to your new boyfriend like that. It’s gonna turn me off”

“You’re disgusting” I spatter. “You started this rumor so you could get in my pants.”

“You wish”

Craig doesn’t seem to think there’s anything to worry about either. Apparently, it’s beyond imagination that we’re actually dating. And people are just spreading it around NYU for the fun of it. Anyone who actually knows who I am can’t even conceptualize it. Devastating to think that Craig is canonically too cute for me. These bitches should’ve seen him in the middle school band. 

We turn on HBO’s Girls and watch until we fall asleep on the couch. I wake up at 4am with my contacts still in and my mouth full of that disgusting filmy feeling when you haven’t brushed your teeth. 

I decide to try my luck on the streets of the Village and I slip out and down the stairs. I try to flatten my bangs but it’s a lost cause. When I make it to my stoop I immediately get a splinter in my ass. So much for a cute 20-something New York moment. 

So I guess I liked the idea that people thought I was capable of being loved. I laugh out loud at my own thoughts. Finding a guy is one of those things you think about so little yet all the time, insidiously, without relief. When you haven’t dated anyone there isn’t much to toss around in your head, it doesn’t take up your life. Yet it dominates the lull. It’s like I think I should be thinking about it more. If I don’t start thinking about it, it will never happen for me. And somehow I think it’s supposed to, that it has to. So yes. It’s nice to think that someone started a rumor about me dating a nice, relatively cute guy. And too bad that nobody believes it. I start crying gently like an elegant Daisy Buchanan type just a few tears rolling down my cheeks. But then it’s heaving sobs until it turns into a panic attack. I get myself out about it by once again laughing at myself. I like how noone bats an eye in New York. I think about Craig waking up with Lena Dunham still drolling on in the background, puzzled as to where I went. Or he might forget I was there in the first place. I keep laughing until I get the key into the lock and make it inside. 

“I don’t know why you didn’t just tell me you were going to Craig’s, did you think I’d accuse you of fucking?” Alyssa laughs as she shoves the dining hall’s "tornado” into her mouth (just some sort of meat tortilla ie., some of their best work). 

Is that so shocking, unbelievable, and delusional to imagine?

I want to say. 

“Joke’s on you, that was the best lay I’ve ever had” I settle on.

“I know you watched Girls until you fell asleep on the couch.”

Alyssa goes on to tell me that this was actually her first time thinking of Craig as someone who could be in a monogamous relationship. And she’s wondering if I think they might be good together. Alyssa deserves better really. She’s a brilliant, intuitive actress, and like all of us, she tries to be nice, and she’s kind when it counts. But Instead of saying that I start rattling off the worst traits about Craig I can think of. 

He never wakes up before 11

He once told me he didn’t think he should date someone because he wouldn’t care if they got sick. 

He eats his soup out of a mug.

He’s always taking his shoes off in public. 

“I didn’t know you were a jealous person” she sneers

…

“I’m kidding. I know you don’t care.”

I’m off to my sociology class where I’ll inevitably raise my hand too much. Universally resented by my peers for actually doing the class readings. But hey, it’s lonely at the top.

As I sit down I feel something burning into the back of my head. As I turn around the head behind me also turns at the exact same time. Weird. I get up to use the bathroom and finally I see it’s the junior with the dark eyebrows. He never talks in class. 

I start zipping up my bag and I hear him follow suit behind me. This is getting weird. I rush to leave. Is he mocking me? I know I’m a little bit of a know it all, I didn’t think I was a genuine pariah. 

I’m off to the park to meet Craig (we decided we wanted to feed the rumors and have a public picnic for the bit). Then I feel footsteps getting closer and closer behind me. There are a lot of people in this city. I’m probably going too slow for their taste. I speed up but the steps match my pace. Finally, I whip my head around and he’s just grinning from ear to ear like a psycho. Him. Eyebrows.

“Oh…hi.” I say, with a much nicer girlier tone than I intended. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to follow you. I just thought I’d catch up sooner.”

“Ok”

“What are you up to”

“Meeting my friend for a picnic”

“That’s so nice. It’s a great day for it.”

“Yeah it is….”

….

“Do you want to join?”

“Oh I wouldn’t want to be a bother. I was planning on heading to the park anyways though .”

“Oh feel free to join”

“Ok.”

“Ok.”

Then I see Craig waving like a maniac. He’s blowing kisses at me. The gestures become increasingly lewd. 

“Sorry”

“Oh! I didn’t know it was a date! I’ll go.”

“No that’s Craig”

“Right that’s your boyfriend right.”

So, Someone believed it. Or hadn’t been given proof to the contrary. I wished I was ruthless enough to string him along.

“No. That’s just gossip”

“Oh!” He laughs but then he remembers he has to go tutor someone in Russian. That might not have been a lie. Hard to say. Seems pretty specific. So he’s off. 

Craig wants to know who that was but I honestly don’t even know his name. Figure he just wants the class notes from a class he missed. Not that I even noticed when he wasn’t there. Barely even noticed he was in the class in the first place. I just want to read my book and eat fig newtons while the college stoners light up and the old men play chess. A generational melting pot.

It’s kind of strange the way his eyebrows are so much darker than his hair. And I don’t think he dyes it. Maybe? No I don’t think he does. I’ve been scanning over the same sentence for 20 minutes. The words keep floating back and forth.  

When Craig decides it’s time to go home, I’m determined to get a little more reading done. I’ve inexplicable only gotten through a few pages this entire time. Finally, I’m starting to get into it when I feel someone nearing towards me. Please please please don’t be a Tik Tok influencer trying to do a street interview…I stand up so I’ll be prime for a quick exit….

Eyebrows.

“I didn’t know if you’d still be here”

“I’m starting to think you’re tracking me” I squeak (Why am I squeaking??)

“Hey, I live in this direction. I was going to walk through here no matter what”

What does he want from me? I’m flattered that someone would go through all this just for my invaluable class notes. Well, I am far and beyond the best one in the class, we all know that. 

“Look you don’t have to–If you want the notes from—”

“What? No” 

It’s one of those moments where someone cuts you off only to have nothing else to say themselves. So we’re both just staring now. Until A skateboarder clips my heel.

FUCK ME.

“Oh shit it’s bleeding, here, come, my apartment is just over there and I should have a few bandaids left in the box”

He’s annoyingly nice. Am I annoyed?

“I’m a tragic figure aren’t I”

“Devastating, really.”

We go back and forth until I finally agree to take him up on it, so that I don’t bleed out in Washington Square Park. I'd have to least be in Sheep's Meadow at Central Park. (I have a flair for the dramatics). 

We make it to his stoop and now its his turn– he yelps “FUCK ME”.

“What happened?”

“I-nothing.”

“You got a splinter in your ass didn’t you.”

“This is humbling for me.”

The giant eyebrows are furrowing and his face is creasing. But it looks so soft. Almost like a flower petal. What?

“Can I ask you something?” I snap out of it.

“Anything aside from my ass splinter. I don’t want to discuss it.”

“Where did you hear that rumor? About me and Craig?”

He scratches his eyebrows and his eyes move away from me. 

I go on

“It’s not a big deal. No one believes it anyway. I just think it’s funny. I want to know who the comic mastermind is.”

“Maybe someone just heard the two of you out of context. You’re really close right?”

“Yeah but, everyone thinks it's an impossible pairing. Craig is…I don’t know…it’s stupid but…I think people think he’s like out of my league.”

His hand goes to his forehead.

“I'm not fishing for compliments” I laugh (I’m not, but it wouldn’t hurt) 

He seems genuinely confused.

He finally speaks,

“It was me. I saw you together and misunderstood. I thought you were together.”

“Yeah right”

He defends himself and he continues to speak for what feels like the longest moment of my life. I start to believe him. His words are swirling around me like when I try to stand up too quickly, and I'm anemic, and I close my eyes. He’s telling me that he doesn’t know why I would think that Craig is out of my league. Ok thank you. What is your name. He tells me that he thinks Craig would be punching above his weight. Ok too nice. Overly generous. Not even realistic at this point. I’m lightheaded.

He wants to write a novel, but he can’t get himself to sit down and write. His thoughts move too quickly or too slowly. He can’t do edibles anymore because he keeps waking up high the next day. He needs new podcast recommendations. He thinks I’m brilliant in class. He hasn’t been able to find his lint roller in weeks. He likes the peanut butter filled pretzels from Trader Joe's, but he eats them too fast. He gets irrationally upset when people are late, but he’ll never admit it. He wants to buy more plants. He thinks health care should be free, but he’s scared of going to the doctor. 

I have no idea what words are rolling off my tongue in return. It’s like hearing someone else speak. For the first time, I feel outside myself. It’s so much more spacious out here. 

Someone emerges trying to pass by us down the stoop so we both move over to the side. After they pass, we don’t move back. He rips off a new piece of paper towel and holds it to my heel for me. 

I turn away, wincing from catching a glance of a scurrying rat. Now I’m facing him. I’m pulled closer to the eyebrows and finally our lips meet. I pull away.

“What’s your name”

“Elijah”

I lean back in.

He puts his hand in front of my mouth. 

“Upupup. Aren’t you worried people will gossip?”

I place my hands on his shoulders and we meet again.

I can't wait to tell Alyssa that someone "saw" me cheating on Craig. No one will ever believe it.