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Andrew Jun 12
August is One of Countless Chapters of the Past. Everything Else is just,
 
A Reverie

 
   It was as startling to me as it was to Mikayla. We had not seen each other since August when she had dragged me across the coals, twice, after it came to her attention, I was showing pictures of her at our local bar. No, not nudes... nor anything remotely suggesting foul play in my mind. They were just selfies that she herself took. On my phone.

   Nadya seemed to still be learning the many customs of America since moving here from Moscow. That and possibly all too embracing of how to live more like an American which is why she didn't notice how thick the air got when she was introducing me to Mikayla,

   “Mikayla, this is Ahnd-REY. He's whom I've been telling you about this whole time.”

    Nadya’s accent made me weak in the beginning. I remember when we started dating every now and then a halfway confused look came across her face during conversations. She expected an American man would never let her get a word in but found it rightfully so as frustrating as could be to get me to talk. I wanted nothing more than to sit and listen to her voice, her stories, and her thoughts. She carried herself so unlike almost every other girl I’ve met.

   There was what I would describe a deftness in her stride. Over time I got the impression it may have been due to where she grew up in Moscow. Not the worst part of the city, but it wasn’t the greatest either. It wasn’t that she was timid by any stretch when she walked by me the first time. She just wasn’t going to put up with anyone’s crass remarks or actions. Her sure-footed steps came to an abrupt stop just passed me realizing I had stopped walking gawking at what was walking by me. She was ready to give me a verbal, possibly physical, lashing as soon as I tried anything to provoke her. But I didn’t.  I just stood there with these ‘poor orphaned puppy dog eyes’ as Nadya put it. Like I was behind a big window, paws pressed against the glass, and no wag in my tail.

   The hardness in her eyes dissipated as mine maintained a child-like awe. This Russian beauty, not sure what to do next, just asked me if I was lost. I couldn’t remember my answer, but whatever I said made her smile. She had what I think of as that calloused mind having dealt with undesirable interactions from her home country growing up.

   Right now, I was weak for another reason. Mikayla. I was hoping I could easily avoid running into her for the rest of my life after she shamed the absolute hell out of me the last time I was here. My eyes focused on Nadya while she kept introducing me, and I could see from my periphery Mikayla’s eyes, the size of silver dollars, staring boldly at me. Her mouth just managed to gape enough for me to notice.
With a less than heartfelt tone Mikayla politely greeted me
after Nadya finished talking.

   “Hello Drew. I haven't seen you here in a while.”

   Nadya was too excited for me to reach for any words of my own. Thank the Moon.

   “Oh! So, you know each other already! That's good to know. Also, you'll have to excuse me if I keep calling him by his Russian name. It fits him so much better!” Nadya continued.

   From what I could gather after that first minute of shock had worn off it seems Nadya just befriended the first girl she found who didn't look like she was an avid fan of fireball. God, I couldn't stand the taste of that cheap ****. I told Nadya fireball was a drink of choice for far too many ****** southern girls to be considered a drink worth any consideration.
  
   Mikayla was dressed as I remember her doing so, very beautifully. This time it was a fun black dress that reached to her knees. Her dark brown hair was hung down and she was wearing shiny black heels. That must mean she hasn't been out drinking for too long then. Somewhere in her car were most likely a pair of wedges she keeps when she has had enough attention and wanted to feel comfortable.

   Nadya was working on a Russian Mule. A drink she was so
elated to find out I knew how to make and not just simply heard of it. Mikayla had what looked like a Long Island iced tea. Her glass was about to spill over in her hand until she noticed me noticing it. A little bit of pink started to flood her cheeks immediately. As Nadya continued her conversation before I arrived Natalie, the bartender, rushed up to me,

    “Drewww! Where have you been, man? It's been ages!”

   I greeted Natalie warmly with a big enough smile I could put on and handed her some silly excuse for my absence,

   “Chasing that paper, if that's still a saying anymore.”

   “I feel you. Want something to drink?”

   Once I returned my attention back to the girls Nadya mouthed the word 'paper’ with clear confusion. I chuckled and wrapped my arm around her to bring her close. Even though I was churning on the inside seeing Mikayla again it wasn't going to overshadow how adorably out of place Nadya could be. I tenderly kissed the front of Nadya’s head after explaining I meant money and tried to ignore the little rain cloud that started to grow above Mikayla's head.
  
 

.....Last August....
 
   I don't want to make it seem as if alcohol was to blame for what happened, but I had drunk more than my usual amount. A friend offered me some shot that smelled too much like one of those ****** cakes you find in gas station bathrooms, but it tasted very much like Hawaiian Punch. The blue kind. It didn't help I hit the ground running enjoying a high gravity beer by some obscure brewery. That was a gift, and a curse, being such good friends with the bartenders. They would always have something for me to try, and refused to charge me the full price of my tab. I was always conscientious of never having more than three, possibly four, beers when drinking though.

   That night there was a real turn out of fresh faces, and girls. Marty, a beer-bellied bar acquaintance of mine, was standing next to me while we carried on light conversion -while we both were glancing back and forth at the girls playing pool. It became painfully clear one of the girls wasn't wearing a bra under her boyish size tank top as she leaned in for her shot.  

   “Lordy, there's some pretty ones here tonight. Isn't there?” He declared.

   I couldn't hold back the smirk stretching across my face.
   “Oh yeah.” was all I needed to say.
          
   “Gonna talk to any of them?”

   Marty must have been wondering who I fancied. Very
respectable guy. Probably didn't want us to have a conflict of interest in the same girl. Lucky for him.

   “Honestly Marty my interests have been taken by one girl in
particular tonight. Unfortunately, I can't really talk to her.”

   His face, as expected, showed me he was more than interested in what I had next to say. I spent a minute going over these feelings I had over time developed for Mikayla, and how I eventually broke the cardinal rule by telling her how I felt. Eventually pulling out my phone showing him the selfies that told me she was interested in me as much as I was in her.

   The month before at the bar I was having small talk with Mikayla as a band was playing loudly across the room. Given that it was hard to hear each other I thought why not use my phones note app and talk that way? So, for a small window of time that was how we carried our small talk. I had no expectations that Mikayla would take it as the opportune time to snap pictures of herself with my phone with various faces. I was included in some of these pictures. It was such a surprise and I hate to say it, but I coveted such a moment with her.
 
   Marty's reaction was that of amusement and awe it seemed. His only words of comment were,

   “Give it some time. Eventually she will find her way to you.”
   At least that is the gist of what he said. Now one of two possibilities had occurred immediately after we spoke. Marty may have gone directly to Jared, Mikayla’s boyfriend, and unloaded everything he had just heard from me. If that were true, I don't blame him. He was simply looking after his friend. I get it, and I harbor no ill will towards the guy. I do believe, however, that someone else must have walked by and heard or saw what I had hoped to keep between me and Marty. That seems more plausible.

   I felt so ashamed when it came to a head that August night.
Mikayla sat down next to me while I was in the middle of Mario Kart, and I was halfway waiting for something interesting to be said by her. I remember my heart was already climbing a ladder to my throat when she walked my way. 
          
   “What's going on?” Was all she said in a very forward manner without looking at me.
  Hands in her lap with eyes looking down at them.
 
   “...Sorry?”
   It was more than curiosity that devoted my attention to her when she sat down. Didn't even notice the solemnness in her face.
       
   “You need to delete those pictures you have of me on your phone.”

   ...And without protest, or questioning anything, I straightaway pulled my phone out and proceeded to carry out her command. Looking back, it still seems odd over the degree of compliance I carried her command out with. Seemed as though the galaxy was struck by that blue shell covered in spikes from the game and my whole world was thrown upside down.

   “This is not funny. This is not a joke…”
   Her tone stung while I was deleting the photos not just from a photo album but from my trash to make it permanent. Those butterflies you get when your excited about something? Well, they were lit on fire and falling into an ever-bottomless pit which came to be inside of me. I started having trouble hearing by then.

   “Deleted.” was my only word to her.

   The voice dripping out of my mouth didn't sound like me at all. As soon as Mikayla heard my response she promptly disappeared out of my view. I tried to resume playing Mario Kart. Not a few seconds passed by and I was looking at my boots with some unfathomable guilt hanging around my neck. I decided to walk away into a corner of the bar and find a happy place, believe it or not. There was what felt like eyes looking at me from everywhere. I felt much too vulnerable out in the open.

   Strangely enough, and what relief it was, I found solace in the form of a new email from my pen pal. Haven’t heard from them in some time so I was happy to read their message. Mikayla must not have liked the smile genuinely smacked across my face. Because she re-a-*******-ppeared in front of me.

   “Why are you trying to ruin my life?” She asked coldly.

   Aaand that happy place of mine just vanished into thin air.
 
   ... ****... I was suddenly so confused and internally screaming to be invisible.

   “-I'm not trying anything Mikayla!”

   My throat felt like it was drying up as the verbal wasp nest was being pushed into my face. I tore my eyes from her gaze momentarily as I desperately forced a swallow against my dry throat. Mikayla was at least open to talking for what little moment there was. It's hard to remember all the details when that fight or flight **** kicks in. I do remember her eyes were too intense for me to keep looking at as she told me,

   “Word travels fast in a small town like this, and now because of you running your mouth, I'm made out to be the town *****.”

   Devastated was an understatement as to what kind of emotion tsumani’d the **** out of me when I heard her. I thought I was speaking in confidence to Marty earlier, but my drinking for the night must have betrayed me. It wasn't long before Mikayla snapped me out of my near stupor,

   “Don't you dare start crying.”

   I could feel it coming, and I must have floundered at keeping the tears from pushing through.

   “If you start crying then I'll start crying.”

   I honestly wasn't expecting that and couldn't have been anymore perplexed for the night. Mikayla continued,

   “You are a nice guy Drew, and if things weren't the way they are I would date you… But I share a house and a dog with Jared, and I can't have **** like this happening. We can be cordial and say hello whenever we see each other, but that's it. From here on out I need you to stop talking about me. No more 'if the stars were aligned differently' *******. I don't ever want to catch my name coming out of your mouth again. Understand?”

   How much of my conversation made it her way?



..... Back to the Present....
  
   I came back to the present when Nadya declared,
   “Oh, we must get together sometime, Mikayla! I have no one to talk to when I go to the nail salon. And as much as I enjoy Andrei shopping with me, he has a difficult time not imagining every outfit I try on laying at the foot of his bed.”

   Mikayla smiled too politely but cleared her throat and said of course she would. But something was amiss and Nadya noticed. She wasn't sure if she was insulting with her halfway worried glance back at me. Her feeling was firmly planted seeing my eyes were directed to the ground briefly before meeting hers.

   Natalie broke the air in the conversation by serving me a
cold beer and chatted briefly with the girls. I took a sharp swig and welcomed the citrus hops biting at my tongue. Think it will be the only drink for the night. Before Natalie could hurry off, I discreetly asked her for Nadya's tab and mine. Nadya, refusing to let the conversation fizzle changed gears hoping to salvage the conversation… but it was for the worst,

   “Andrei, I'm so happy you finally decided to show me your friends bar. It's full of friendly faces.” Smiling right at Mikayla she continued, “He says he hasn't been back here since October-”

   “-August.” ****, did I really just correct Nadya? In front of them both? Am I autistic? Mikayla's eyes were quickly returning to the state they were in that same **** August night.
   “August?” Inquired Mikayla.

   “Oh, that's right.” Nadya continued, “Andrei hasn't said much about it. All he would tell me was some horrible ***** ‘dragged him across the coals.’ Isn’t that what you said darling?”

   The last word was closely followed by her hand tenderly caressing my face as if there were a smarting wound that hadn’t healed this whole time. Raw heat erupted deep down within me for two very different reasons.

   “He says it's his fault and he deserved it, but I know that’s not true. He won't tell me anything else.” Nadya resumed.

   I need to get some air. The room was starting to feel like a vacuum. My voice entered the conversation,

   “I never said she was anything, Nadya.” One pair of eyes looked curiously at me, and another was piercing into my skull. If I so much as crossed my sight in Mikayla’s direction, I felt certain I’d turn to stone, or be slapped very hard across the face.
  
   “She was nothing but sweet to me, and unfortunately I made a poor choice in expressing my interests to her from the start. Her hands were tied and to this day I feel so terrible for jeopardizing someone else’s relationship.”
           
   Not sure if Nadya was entirely satisfied with my explanation, however, the snakes writhing around Mikayla’s head were clearly retreating from whence they can. I hope what she heard was enough because I really want to take Nadya away from here before all those puzzle pieces fell into place.

   The bartender Natalie answered my unspoken prayer and handed me the bill. Nadya looked like she was purring at the sight of her date taking care of the bill even when she didn’t
ask of it. Her first few dates on American soil were seemingly haphazard at best, and I still manage to catch her off guard over random small nothings. Like simply holding the door for her; something she missed about Russian dates.

   Nadya was enjoying the fact she found herself an American gentleman who didn’t drink his meals and expected her to pay for herself. Though she quickly held protest upon realizing I was ready to leave, but obliged when the worry started to creep forth from my eyes,

   “Mikayla it was so very nice to meet you. Maybe we can all go on a double date soon.” Then Nadya gave her an unexpected hug.

   Nadya’s back was to me as she went in for a hug. Wasn’t sure if I saw a snake flicking its tongue from behind Mikayla’s head or not. I just stared off into nothingness for a few seconds. Reality quickly resumed when Nadya crooned,

   “Ready Darling?”

   Just breathe... We’re walking out now.

   “It was nice to see you again Drew. Take care.”

   Mikayla’s voice made my body stiffen just slightly. It was the calmest it had been the entire night, but it didn’t mask the anguish that lingered. It must have looked like smiling back at her was painful for me as I held the door open for Nadya.
Because Nadya didn’t walk through.

   As if she was watching a sunrise for the first time, she looked at me with her head tilted, then at Mikayla, … at me, and Mikayla again. And it dawned on her.

   Time must have forgot it never takes a break... for those few seconds dragged on for far too long. Only after she tenderly took me by the hand and we were out the door did Nadya conclude,

   “We need to find a new place to share a drink, my love.”
Terry Collett Jul 2012
If she could have got
inside her head, Nadya
thinks, she is sure, her

mind can expand like an
inner universe. The thoughts
moving around like lost

planets, clusters of stars,
images, words, faces, actions
remembered. If she could

just put her hand into a
hidden orifice and reach
into her brain and sort

amongst the galaxies of
ideas she could be brighter,
braver, wiser, and there

clinging to certain ideas
associations like Proust’s
madeleines would be old

loves, broken heart moments,
melodies from favourite songs.
Josef has told her to leave

off the *****, to put away
the bottles, drink water, tea
or whatever. But he does

not satisfy. His love making
is a joke, all push and poke.
Sometimes she thinks her

thoughts come out of her
head and dance. Time for
another drink. She thinks

of Paris. Summers past,
spring walks. Josef’s endless
chatter breaks in; those all

too intellectual boring talks.
She imagines him as another,
pretends some young Russian

overeager tends to her, embraces
her body, kisses each inch of her
flesh, pleasure giving. No more of

this boring life, more of that wild,
touching the new, exploring ***, living.
nanimono Sep 15
She who came in my dream
Only in dreams are we still together
Everytime I woke up
And realized,
Reality is a trully nightmare
Maybe in another time,
Day,
world, or
a parallel world
We are still together
She's the reason why I have to protect my history
.....
Nadya
Jack Jenkins Mar 2017
It's hard to keep going everyday without you...
I miss you, y'know? I miss you...

I miss your smiling eyes that belied your emotionless face
I miss all our long conversations into the deep night
Whether they were absolutely meaningless or serious
Just to lay with you long after I should have been asleep...
Yeah, I miss you...

I miss kissing your forehead everytime we had to say goodbye
I miss the anticipation of seeing you after we'd been away
I miss all of your poetry you carved into my spirit
Barfight
On How to Love a God
If You Talk Enough Sense You'll Lose Your Mind
Nadya and Fatima (Such a great one)
Sun Kissed
Woman Lay With  Wolves...

I bet you didn't think I'd know your poems like that...
But you overcame my stubborn heart & I carved you into me
Molded and sewed every stitch of you to me
& I miss how you stole my heart away...
& I miss how I fell in love with your mind long before I fell in love with your body. (What a body it is, too)

I don't know if you'll ever see this letter to you
Part of me doesn't want you to because you'll know
Just how many tears I've shed missing you
& how bitter I am that you were ripped away from me

I miss you, y'know? I miss you...
& even though you're gone away
You left your sparkle in my eyes...
****...
Quettevio Oct 2016
there's this girl, her name is felicia,
and she is not afraid to love with all she might,
to fall over and over again,
to get hurt and to be misunderstood,
to be pushed away by the circumstances she is not aware.
i tell her she is stupid, wasting her time, and that she deserves better;
but still the only time she cries is because he cries.

there's this guy, his name is derio,
tells me he knows nothing about love, or how to win a girl heart,
but i witness him giving his drink to her,
pats her back after their group presentation,
shows me what he writes and how i notice he engraves
every single thing about her in words,
how he makes a playlist contains songs about her
and how she makes him feel.

there's this girl, her name is nadya,
her love is the love that is so pure and innocent,
that even when he is miles away she tells me she senses his presence.
she draws him paintings, consist of pastel colors, and i ask her why;
she says it brings calmness to every storm.
i will look up at her history chat, being a protective friend that i am;
and i notice how fast she responds,
showering him with the attention he never have.

there's this guy, his name is andre,
and the way he talks about her, i assure you,
even the star constellations will envy the spark in his eyes.
his wallpaper is green, and i joke a lot about it;
how it shows that he is a capitalist, how it looks like he just puke on it,
but he shrugs it all off; tells me it is her favorite color.

there's this girl, her name is clara,
never going anywhere without a book in her hand,
sometimes she will surprise me with midnight chats
contains her crying over a fictional character and how unfair the ending is,
she has this web-page where she writes the unsent letters
to every character she is in love with.
she has a personal blog where she makes each of them
another story, another ending.

there's this guy, his name is elliot,
a head division of an event i am contributed in,
and between the meetings that goes almost overnight,
he insists to walk her to the train station even if she never ask to.
he tells me it is not because he think she is weak and can't protect herself,
he says it is because she is precious.

and then there is me;
a witness,
a learner,
a note-taker,
of all kind of love they show,
of all kind of love they grow,
for sometimes it is easy to love
but hard to remember
how beautiful and endearing it is.
I'm Phoenix Mar 2020
Hi, everyone.
Let me introduction myself to you.
So, My name is Nadya, I'm 18 years old, and hopefully I'm still alive.
I studied at a private university in Indonesia majoring in accounting information systems.

Thank you for reading my writing

— The End —