Oh, Vienna

She picked up, or someone had. He checked the oven clock, which had been three minutes fast ever since he could remember. It read 12:03 but it was really midnight. 

There was breathing, deep, not sexy or anything like that. More like they had been running or jumping, being chased and the chase had now ended. It was desperate. There was phlegm in it, fear even.

He heard the fireworks outside the window. On the other line, they were crackling too. She was close to the park where they lit them off.

 A car horn and brakes squeaking. Was she standing in the road? 

“Laura, I’m calling you. It’s midnight like you said. I know you’re there. Why don’t you answer?” 

The breathing stopped. 

"Are you okay?" 

He waited. 

This wasn’t what he had expected. Given her quiet nature and tendency to eat her lunch in the girl’s bathroom (which she thought no one noticed, but everyone did) he mostly expected her not to answer at all. Or, he thought that she might read him a poem or some famous sappy quotes. He would laugh about it later, but listen with sincerity in the moment. Or, he expected her to suddenly act normal. To talk to him like a normal person. Ask him about his day. But that would be too strange. 

______________________

Laura Woolf, the alluring mystery girl. She didn’t see herself that way. Transferring junior year had done little to change her self esteem issues. Her mother told her over and over that the new school meant a chance to begin again, to reinvent. But Laura found that idea to be preposterous. Life wasn’t a teen drama from the 1980’s. She couldn’t cut her hair and start wearing boring clothes from the mall and expect people not to see her for who she was. A freak. 

Truthfully, no one in school saw Laura as a freak. They were intrigued, and the boys were attracted to her. Maybe if they had all grown up with her, things would have been different. They would know her. But no one knew her except the drama teacher and running coach. She was so alive in drama class, on the stage that is. Every morning she ran before school, early, before the rest of them woke up.

Musings of the potential of her past swirled around. Her reputation became almost edgy during the fall field trip to Amish country. Some of the girls found out she'd snuck wine along in a water bottle. She refused to share. None of them ratted her out, but she was suspicious of all of them all the time. She always refused to accept their compliments and various gestures of friendship. It didn’t matter to any of them because in their tiny, friendly  town, it took all kinds. Laura Woolf was one of the kinds. 

September and October she did well, the fall play was a smash success, she won at the track meets. But then the winter crept in and she didn’t only eat her lunch in the bathroom, she cried in there as well. She disappeared, sometimes in the middle of class. She stopped wearing the feathered earrings. She stopped wearing thin heeled shoes that snapped loudly down the halls. Her new shoes were flat and silent. 

She thought no one had noticed, that no one cared enough. She was invisible and misunderstood. The misunderstandings, they weren’t her fault. That’s just how life was supposed to be for someone like her. Outsider. 

It was around the same time her mood turned sour that she met him. Well, she didn’t actually meet him, she saw him on the other side of the park. His house was one of the old fancy ones that lined the perimeter. He had brought his guitar and was playing on a park bench as dramatic youths are prone to do in their hometowns. 

Then she noticed him again, and again, and suddenly he was always around. She figured out which house was his. She sometimes walked by it for no reason. 

He had noticed her the first day that she arrived. He was generally likable, but by no means part of the most popular inner circle. Probably because he was a bit square about things, and his parents were overly religious. He had a goofy sense of humor that was likely to get stronger over time instead of fade. He liked music, and his friends, and not taking anything too seriously. He had a girlfriend in sophomore year who was a cheerleader, but she dumped him over the summer. 

He got paired with Laura on an in class group project. She barely spoke at all and shrugged a lot. But there were a few times he made her smirk, almost laugh. And sometimes he caught her looking at him like she was doing a character study. And then she would act embarrassed and look at the floor. No girls had ever behaved like that with him, at least not any good looking ones. 

 He considered auditioning for the winter play, but it was Shakespeare. He knew he’d never learn the lines, and whether he did or didn't his friends would make fun of him. He went to the park more often, he sat on the bench even when it started to snow. She ran laps every morning and he would go out early and he would wave to her. She didn’t wave back, but she did stare at him. 

Then the winter exam period came and quickly ended. Laura continued running, even though there was a constant slippery sheet of ice on the ground. No one saw her fall, but everyone certainly remarked on the likelihood it would happen. 

There was a note in his locker the last day before break. It was placed in the dead center of the neglected stack of chemistry textbooks. It looked blank at first glance. Just a folded scrap. He would have thrown it out if he hadn’t noticed the tiny heart drawn in the center. The page unfolded itself, a Victorian valentine. Little drawn designs along the edges and a secret message,

“Call me on the eve. At midnight. (330) 767-5617”

She didn’t sign her name. It was her writing though, he remembered the way she curled her g’s from the group project. Unless it was a prank. But none of his friends had that nice of handwriting. 

At first, he was excited. He liked her. And so what if she was angsty and strange, she was hot. He wanted to tell his friends. He didn’t. It felt wrong to break the secret. 

He went to the park two days before Christmas and like clockwork Laura came around the bend. He hadn’t seen her since before he found the note. Surely she’d be warmer now. She might even stop. Sit next to him, or at least smile. 

No, in fact, she was colder than she’d ever been. He knew she’d seen him waving. But she gave an even wider berth than usual. Vanished into the trees. 

It stung. It shouldn't have. He didn’t even know her. He wasn’t going to sit at home and wait to call her at midnight. He would throw the note in the trash, he would go out drinking. They'd have a party.

But his friends dropped like flies. Bret came down with the flu. And Cody came down with the flu. And Andrei came down with the flu. And the only crewmember left was Abe, but Abe just wanted to smoke a bowl in his bedroom. And he didn’t know of any parties happening. And he didn't care about ball drops or fireworks. 

Even his parents jumped ship. They told him they were going to a hotel in Cleveland and that he’d be home alone that night. His mother gave him permission to order pizza and stay up until midnight. Hip, hip, hooray. 

He sat on his parents bed eating bad pizza and watching bad reality tv. He fell asleep next to the pizza box and had a few restless dreams and woke up. She’d been there, in them. Her long curly hair was down and she was smiling so much he could finally see her pretty straight teeth. 

He called Laura Woolf at midnight and she answered him. 

_______________________________________-

Laura didn’t want to stay home. She had to run, she had to get out of the house. Her mother was shocked to hear that Laura had plans with friends, but there were no questions. She did not even comment on Laura’s wardrobe choices, which seemed entirely too casual for a new year’s eve party. 

Laura parked her mother’s Honda at the end of the park and got the flashlight out of the console. She didn’t need it, so many people were out to see the fireworks show despite the ice and freezing temperatures. She knew he wouldn’t call her, she just knew it. And on the slight chance he did answer, what would she say? A confession of feelings and a desire to be a normal girl with a boyfriend? It wasn’t her. It was more fun to imagine than to actually live it, she knew that. Life wasn’t a fairytale, it’s not like he would kiss her or something. If he kissed her, it would be bad. He would be a bad kisser. Or maybe she was, she hadn’t really thought of that before. She’d never even had a stage kiss. 

She wanted to let it go to voicemail. But she knew where he lived, his parents had a house right on the river side of the park. Right where she was, he could be watching her from his window. She slowed her pace and answered. He could hear her breathing. She slid a little on the ice, a passing car honked a warning to her. She wanted to answer when he asked. She hoped he wouldn’t hang up. But she didn’t know what to say. 

He repeated the question, 

“Are you okay?” 

And then as she entered back into the shadows of the park perimeter, Laura slid on the ice. The phone was still clutched in her hand, but her knee had caught on something. The material was shredded and dirt and blood was already soaking through.

The blood scared her, she didn't want to move. The stinging from falling coming from her tailbone to her brain. She should have been jolted into action. But youth is stubbornness and stubborn ideas and Laura did not say anything. 

“I heard the end of the fireworks show. I live by the park. Are you outside my window?”

He was trying to be clever. Hoping this could open her up. He pulled the blinds back and saw under the streetlamp on the edge of the park a girl with a very busted knee. 

She looked small. And frightened. And her face was full of more caring than he’d ever seen on it before. She saw him watching her as she hung up the phone.