*** Monday afternoon during school ***
Oblivious to the ambient chatter of his classmates, Patrick watched the motion of the seconds hand of the clock on the wall. The bell rang and he grabbed his books laid out in a neat pile on his desk and sprang to his feet. He was the first to leave the classroom.
Patrick’s next class was physics. There was a test today. He had prepared well, as he always did, and he knew he would get an outstanding grade, as he always did. However, he had forgotten to bring his calculator. It was in his locker on the other side of the school.
At first, there was some sense of order in the hallway. The students going in the same direction as Patrick circulated on the right side of the hallway, and the oncoming students were on the left side. To provide supervision, some teachers stepped outside their classes and stood in the middle of the hallway, separating the opposing currents of students. More and more students spilled into the hallway. As the volume increased, so did the chaos.
Patrick tried to hasten his pace but he was forced to follow the erratic flow of the students coursing through the hallway. One student yelled out to a fellow student to get his attention. Another student zigzagged around slower students in a quick series of starts and stops.
When Patrick finally reached his locker, he placed his binder and pencils on the floor, dialed the three numbers on his combination lock, and raised the latch to open his locker. Patrick tossed in a book, grabbed his calculator from the shelf and slipped it into the front pocket of his pants. He closed the locker door and gave the dial a spin with his right hand. He bent down to pick up his binder and pencils, tucked them under his left arm and darted back up the hallway. By the time he returned to the other side of the school, the school corridors were clearing out. Physics was down the next hallway on the left so he cut the corner at the intersection to make the turn. He realized that someone was coming the other way, also at a good pace. There was too little time to stop. That is when it all began.
The two students’ faces were careening toward each other. Patrick instinctively and defensively raised his free right arm toward Liliana to avert a possible collision.
Both students slowed down. But for Patrick, time also slowed down. In that instant, he recorded the myriad details of this ravishing enchantress heading directly toward him. She had a soft, exotic Andean complexion, gleaming hazel eyes, long, thick black hair cascading onto her shoulders, and raspberry lips bursting into a winsome smile and dabbed with a disarming dimple.
Patrick entered some sort of Einsteinian space-time continuum in which he felt his heart pounding and his temples pulsating. His right hand reached up toward her left shoulder. His panoramic view shrank and shrank until he could peer so deeply into her eyes that he could almost see her thoughts. Without touching her, he felt like his body was compressing against hers, like two swirling black holes falling into each other’s gravitational pull. Patrick rotated to the right as she rotated to the left. The two students orbited one another, locked together by the deep unbreakable spell of their beguiling stares, bound by their unconsummated embrace. Her smiling eyes illuminated her face. She beamed him a smirk of moist lips, which relaxed and parted, to reveal her perfect teeth. As they turned, Patrick saw her eyes close slowly, firmly and deliberately, as if to savor the moment. Like the shutter of a camera, her eyes re-opened, having indelibly captured the moment forevermore. Patrick also seared this mental snapshot into his memory. The two students completed half of a counterclockwise rotation and effectively switched positions. Patrick’s right hand hovered ever so closely over her shoulder. He imagined the silky sensation that the sleeve of her satin blouse would have left on his fingertips were he to touch it. His hand descended down her now outstretched arm, cradling her elbow. Under the decompressing physical force of the momentum, the two students continued to look into each other’s eyes. They stepped backward away from each other. In his peripheral vision, a tumi pendant tethered by her silver necklace swung around her neck like a satellite. They took one more step backward and her hand slipped past his hand which he kept raised in the air, as if it longed to capture her essence. The stunning vision of his reverie was projected in reverse motion. Patrick’s visual range gradually returned to a panoramic setting, revealing a purple pleated skirt still settling from the momentum, and coming to rest against her dark, tasteful stockings. Time returned to the normal Euclidean space-time continuum and Patrick whimsically spun around to face the direction that he was going in, and walked away.
Parallel to Patrick’s universe was Liliana’s dreamy impression of the shared event. She had seen a young lad, oozing with comforting confidence, waltz in from nowhere. He had a mystical power that seemed to move her body at his discretion, obviating the need for any guiding word or touch. He incarnated grace and charm that imbued her spirit as their bodies entangled. The intimacy that she felt while trapped in his gaze was both soothing and frightening for its intensity. She resisted melting into his spellbinding look and tried to suppress her excitement, but she felt her palms sweat and she felt her betraying eyes plead with impassioned desire, “Oh handsome stranger! Please touch me!” What transpired after that was all a blur to her. She imagined herself in an episode of ‘Dancing with the Stars.’ She may have performed a mere Lindy Hop maneuver but she had felt the elan of two simultaneous triple axles flawlessly landed on imaginary ice. She watched him glide backwards with his hand in the air, transferring the limelight to her, as a gracious master of ceremonies might, to showcase the crowned pageant winner to an adoring crowd. Then, as if habituated to executing such spectacular poetry in motion, he simply snapped his head around toward the direction that he was walking, releasing her from his entrancing control. He carried in hand the commonplace accouterments of a mere mortal, a binder and pencils. Her suspended breathing culminated with a long exhale as he disappeared down the hall. She wondered who was this charismatic boy who had taken her breath away and walked away with her disconsolate palpitating heart.
The first silent encounter of these two young strangers was certainly teeming with physical attraction. Patrick’s stellar performance had to be under the influence of a quirky alignment of the stars because it stemmed from rather disastrous circumstances. If he could swoop into her path, and so promptly and nonchalantly resume his course, it was not for his confidence but for his tardiness to his important physics class. If he could peer into her eyes so brazenly, it was not a manifestation of his romantic prowess but his subjugation to the basic forces of Newtonian motion. If he was able to encounter someone so sensuously without uttering a single word, it was not because he was accustomed to amorous acclamation, it was because he had conditioned himself to remain silent when meeting new girls, especially girls that he really liked, because that was exactly when his stutter was most likely to return. Too often, his stutter had nipped potential dalliances in the bud by turning warm experiences into awkward ones.
Patrick had made a storybook first impression but he could not be further from the romantic superhero of its pages. In fact, he was a late bloomer. He had the good fortune to attend a mixed birthday party in grade six where some boys and girls participated in a kissing game in a basement while the parents chatted upstairs. Also, there was that time when a girl had spent two weeks at her grandparents’ house one summer. Her grandparents were his neighbors. This provided the opportunity for the two children to become friends. Patrick and this girl had exchanged some kisses, but these would better be classified as experimental kisses rather than romantic ones. Both these meager experiences had happened long ago in primary school.
Since he did not engage in social endeavors much, he occupied himself with intellectual pursuits. He found a refuge in reading about science and computers. He immersed himself in science fiction and spent a lot of time looking through his telescope. Online, he indulged in multiplayer computer games and he made some friends in esoteric chat groups. This world did not afford him the satisfying human interactions he wanted, but it shielded him from the discomfort related to his stuttering.
Liliana’s romantic history was no more elaborate or glorious.
In her previous school, Liliana had dared her best friend to climb a tree and kiss a boy, which they did. In retaliation, her best friend had dared Liliana and a boy that she liked, to kiss, which they also did, gladly. To the enthusiastic cheers of the surrounding students, the kiss was extended and the boy ended it with a cinematographic dip. However, life does not always end in applause. Youth is never free of tribulations and romance is not always as sweet, genuine and pure as songs and stories would have you believe.
Liliana once held her favorite cousin’s hand. Soon after, they went into the shed out back where they kissed. After ten minutes of kissing, her cousin put his tongue in Liliana’s mouth. Liliana recoiled in surprise and returned to the house. Liliana had given this incident some thought and the next time the two met, they returned to the shed where they kissed again. This time, a few minutes later, it was Liliana who initiated the tongue kissing. It may have been natural curiosity, or it may have been a stance against her overprotective parents, or it may have been out of pressure to please her cousin. In any case, her sister suddenly opened the door of the shed and inquired suspiciously about what they were doing in this dark, cluttered shed. This was years ago and Liliana’s cousin had ceased to participate in most family encounters that included her. The rare times that they did meet, he would avoid eye contact with her.
*** Monday, after school ***
Charlene, Liliana and Zicky walked toward the school parking lot.
“I’ve been meaning to ask. Do people wear perfume in this school?” asked Liliana.
Charlene replied, “I don’t but I am sure you could if you want to.”
Liliana said, “No. That’s not what I meant and I certainly don’t want to wear any. It’s because I’m very allergic to perfume. I haven’t met anyone wearing any, but it would be a problem if I did.”
“I haven’t heard of any rule against it, but that’s probably just because no one minded―until now,” said Zicky.
“I should probably check with the office. Thanks,” said Liliana with a grin.
“It must be hard changing schools in the middle of a school year. Are you getting settled okay?” asked Charlene.
“Slowly but surely,” replied Liliana.
“Well, let me know if I can help you,” said Charlene. “Are you caught up in ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’?”
“Yeah! I read up to chapter 8 last night, and finally I was able to follow when we read chapter 9 together in class today. Touch wood!” said Liliana.
“Just don’t let the teacher know that, because he’ll start asking you questions too,” said Zicky.
“Good point!” exclaimed Liliana with a laugh.
“How does Atticus discourage Scout from cussing?” said Zicky mocking the teacher’s voice. This was the question that the teacher had asked Zicky about the novel that day. Then, returning to his own voice, he continued, “If he has so many questions, maybe he should read the damned book!”
Liliana laughed again. She always laughed at Zicky’s comments. Encouraged by her laughter, Zicky continued:
“And when are we going to see that mockingbird, dead or alive?”
“Yeah! What’s up with that anyway?” retorted Liliana with a giggle. “Oh! That’s my bus coming. So, see you guys tomorrow,” said Liliana.
“See you guys tomorrow,” echoed Zicky, walking away as he pointed his remote toward his sports car to take down the top.
Liliana waved good-bye with her hand.
“And I see my brother coming over there. Bye y’all,” said Charlene.
Liliana paused a moment to let her face bask in the warm summer sunshine. The breeze caressed her hair one last time before she hopped on the bus.
Patrick had been watching them talk, laugh and disperse as he caught up to his sister. Charlene let him catch up so that they could begin their walk back home together.
“What’s up?” asked Charlene.
“I just wrote my physics test. Some people thought it was hard, but I think I did really well. Hey! Who was that new girl with you and Zicky?” asked Patrick.
“That’s Liliana. She just transferred from Richmond. She’s in our English class. Why?”
“Oh! She looks nice,” said Patrick, downplaying his infatuation.
He now knew the name of the girl from his magical encounter. The physical attraction was undeniable, but would there be chemistry with dialogue?
*** Tuesday, after school ***
The last students were trickling out of school. Patrick and Zicky walked and chatted together in the hallway. They reached a set of school doors below an exit sign. They each pushed the door in front of them and exited.
“… and then I brought her to the cottage to do a bit of Jet Ski, and you’ll never guess what she said,” said Zicky, waiting for a response that never came.
Patrick was usually interested in Zicky’s innumerable stories about his romantic escapades. Who would not envy Zicky Asna’s knack with the dames? He had it all. He had the looks, the confidence, the luxurious lifestyle and the exciting trips. He always knew what to say and what to do. He did boast and finagle a bit, but his success was undeniable. His luck could be traced back to the day he was born. He was the son of a prominent immigrant who had forged a lucrative business as an entrepreneur. The whole city related to the words ‘Asna Consolidated’ that graced a landmark building in the City Center. Mr. Asna was in the media on many occasions: he held the end of a ribbon that the president of the Chamber of Commerce was cutting, he posed with a hard hat next to the mayor shoveling the first ceremonial scoop of earth to launch a community project, and he promoted a youth employment initiative that he sponsored, just to name a few. Although Zicky did not have the philanthropic and industrious values of his father, he did have inherited privilege. He found that he could open doors by leveraging the influence that came with his family name. He was used to getting what he wanted. His name alone invariably determined the outcome of his quests.
Patrick watched the bus pull away from the pick-up area where they had been the day before.
Zicky was very good at sizing up a situation. When he noticed Patrick’s detachment from the conversation, he sensed that Patrick was interested in Liliana. Patrick was certainly not a threat to Zicky’s popularity, but Patrick’s feelings for Liliana piqued Zicky’s interest in her. He pondered how she would make an intriguing addition to his portfolio of romantic exploits.
Patrick snapped out of his daydream and sought to re-immerse himself into his surroundings. He had not paid attention to Zicky’s last words. He did not want to acknowledge the missed gap in the conversation so he attempted to re-establish the dialogue where it had been left off by finessing a transition:
“So what’s your big adventure this weekend?”
“I haven’t really thought about it. I could go yachting with my dad, and I haven’t gone golfing in a while.” replied Zicky. “How about you?”
“There’s a school dance on Friday. I was thinking of inviting that new chick, Liliana. I’ll ask her tomorrow,” said Patrick.
“Oh! There’s a school dance this week?” retorted Zicky. “I wasn’t aware, but yeah! Good luck with that.”
*** Wednesday afternoon ***
Zicky grabbed an oval bottle in one hand and a triangular bottle in the other hand, took them out of his locker and showed them to Patrick.
“Hey Pat! Could you help me with this? I have these two bottles of cologne here. Which one do you think smells nicer?”
“Well, stretch out your hands and I’ll spray them,” said Patrick.
“No. No. You go ahead on yourself,” replied Zicky.
“Okay. Sure.” replied Patrick.
Patrick grabbed a bottle in each hand. Knowing that he was about to invite Liliana to the school dance, Patrick was quite happy to indulge in anything that could give him an edge. He sprayed his wrist from the bottle he held in his other hand, sniffed, and then he sprayed his other wrist from the other bottle, and sniffed that wrist. He sprayed a little bit more on each wrist and smelled again back and forth.
Then, Patrick presented the winning bottle to Zicky, saying:
“I’d go with this one, but they’re both pretty good.”
“Thank you for your excellent advice!” said Zicky with a wink, as he grabbed the bottles.
Zicky put the cologne bottles back in his locker, pulled out a duffel bag containing his football equipment and headed for his after-school practice. Patrick headed to the exit, reeking of cologne, ready to invite allergic Liliana.
Patrick had to pass by Liliana’s bus stop to get to his house. It was on his way so walking by her stop should not seem unduly contrived, but if she was not at her stop yet, should he go back to his locker momentarily, with the pretext that he forgot something? That might not be a good idea, he thought. That would not be very genuine. However, if she wasn’t at the bus stop, he could walk slowly to give her a chance to show up. That could not be considered stalking by any definition. That, he decided, would still be justified.
Patrick exited the school and looked toward the bus stop. What luck! The best case scenario awaited him: Liliana was there, standing alone, waiting at her bus stop, not reading, not talking on her cellphone, with plenty of time before her bus was scheduled to arrive.
“Hi,” said Patrick with a friendly smile.
Liliana drew in a gulp of air and greeted him with a contorted grimace of repulsion. She brought her hand to her nose and turned her head away. She felt queasy and lightheaded. Unable to breathe, she teetered a few steps away. Her burning eyes watered. “Ehm! I gotta go,” she managed. Then she ran over to a different bus stop and started waiting once again.
Well, that certainly did not go as well as the first time, Patrick thought to himself. He was taken aback by her apparent change of heart. Although he did not understand what had transpired, he was not about to give up on Liliana so quickly. He thought that perhaps she was having a bad day or there was some other factor that he was not aware of.
Patrick proceeded to walk home with his ego a little bit bruised. At least, he was happy he had managed to greet her without stuttering. With all the butterflies in his stomach, this was an accomplishment. He figured that if he managed to speak to her once without stuttering, it would be more likely that he wouldn’t stutter the next time he spoke to her. Perhaps this hypothesis was too optimistic. After all, he had only spoken a single word with her―a two-letter word.
Patrick would work up the courage to ask her again the next day. He decided to think of things to say to her so that the sentences would flow better. He went home and wrote down a list of topics and then developed some sentences and paragraphs. Some were greetings, some were icebreakers and some were light conversation. He combined some similar topics, rearranged some paragraphs, eliminated those that did not work well, and ordered them by likeliness to reach maximum impact. He had written notes like this in the past for other girls, but he had not gone through with the delivery. This time, however, he was determined to speak to Liliana. His conversation would have to be spontaneous so he went to a park where he practiced by himself saying the lines out loud. He could not practice in the house because he did not want his parents, and especially Charlene, to overhear him in his room. Although Charlene was generally supportive regarding his stuttering, this rehearsal would embarrass him because he knew that Charlene was aware of his poor track record at meeting girls, and he had no intention of reinforcing that notion. His parents, on the other hand, seemed to be unaware of his interest in girls and this suited him fine.
Charlene had told Patrick that Liliana was transferred over from Richmond. That was his best icebreaker. It scored high in simplicity and the topic could lead to plenty of subtopics which would contribute to a flowing conversation. Patrick would try to broach the subtopic of Phil Fields, a close friend of his from Richmond. Patrick and Phil had attended several years of group therapy together to mitigate their stuttering. Patrick thought that he should casually ask Liliana if she might by any chance know Phil. He wouldn’t have to say that their connection was related to a speech impediment, and in the off chance that Liliana did know Phil, he would be a great reference, since Phil always had the very highest praise for Patrick.
*** Thursday, after school ***
When the school day ended, Patrick exited the school and hoped to meet Liliana. He spotted Liliana and Charlene together, chatting, as they headed toward the bus stop. Patrick was transfixed by Liliana’s thick, black, shiny hair. She had tied it up in a playful ponytail that swung left, right, left, right, like a metronome, in cadence with her gait. This alluring hypnotic sight along with all his prepared lines, his thoughts, his desires and his insecurities overwhelmed his senses. Patrick had the perfect motive for joining the two girls, because he would end up walking home with his sister. He could count on his sister to facilitate the encounter should there be any hiccoughs. This was the perfect opportunity to chat with Liliana. Most of all, the dance night was fast approaching. He felt he had to act now or never. For added security, Patrick came up to the girls from Charlene’s side.
“Oh! Liliana, let me introduce you to my brother Patrick,” said Charlene upon seeing him.
“Hello!” said Liliana.
“Hello!” said Patrick. “Charlene told me about you transferring over from Richmond. Do you happen to know Phi-Phil Fi-F-F-Fields?”
The intensity of all his emotions got the best of him. Although Patrick had carefully planned out and meticulously rehearsed his dialogue, he faltered on the name of his good friend Phil Fields.
As it turns out, Liliana did know Phil Fields in Richmond and she was aware that he had a serious stuttering problem. She thought Patrick was deliberately stuttering to imitate Phil. She did not think this was clever, nor funny, and certainly not very kind, but still, she felt badly about having rushed off the day before. It must have seemed rude but the cologne had made her nauseous. So, she attempted to be agreeable with him nonetheless to atone for her behavior which may have been perceived as insolence.
“Yeaaaah! Phil sure does have quite a stutter, doesn’t he?” said Liliana with a broad smile.
“He’s a g-g-g-good f-f-friend of mine. W-we w-w-were in the s-s-same c-c-c-class.”
Liliana blushed when she realized that Patrick’s stutter was genuine. Her attempt to sidestep the inappropriate comment led to her own embarrassing comment. She got the relief she sought when she saw her bus approaching.
“Very nice to meet you,” she said as she walked away to line up for the bus. It was not so much that she needed to get on the bus. Rather, she needed to escape this awkward situation.
*** Friday, after lunch ***
By happenstance, Patrick met Liliana in the hallway. This was all becoming very stressful for Patrick, but he mustered the courage to overcome his self-consciousness. He realized that his self-isolation was not a viable strategy for dealing with his stutter. The emotions and the series of failures did nothing to help his self-esteem but he needed to get out of his self-imposed exile.
“G-good m-mor-mor-m-morn…,” said Patrick.
“Afternoon!” interrupted Liliana.
A pause. And then the tension dissipated with Patrick’s realization of his error. In one fell swoop, she bypassed all discomfort by casting humor and surprise into the mix, and it worked! Patrick burst out laughing. He laughed uncontrollably, and then Liliana joined in too, laughing and laughing.
With two fingertips, Liliana gave the hair gracing her cheek two twirls and tucked it behind her ear, and sensually traced her outer ear. She tilted her head exposing a radiant smile and a twinkle in her eye. She stopped worrying about etiquette and atonement. Her beauty stopped intimidating Patrick. They both stopped obsessing about appearances and reached out to the other person inside. They felt at ease with each other. Feeling her support, Patrick regained his composure.
“Hey! Did you know there’s a school dance tonight?” he asked. “I was wondering if you would like to go with me?”
Patrick was quite happy with his impeccable elocution. He knew that once he had delivered a few sentences, particularly to a girl, particularly to this girl, and especially after sensing her support and connection, it would become easier and easier to speak fluently. However, Patrick felt like the rug had been yanked from under his feet when Liliana replied:
“Well, do you know if Zicky’s going?”
Patrick’s heart sank. Patrick pondered what she had just said. Was she interested in going if Zicky might be there, or did she want to ask Zicky first, before making a commitment to Patrick? Either way, this was not acceptable. Patrick may not have had the suave banter and the wherewithal of Zicky, but this was just too much. Yes, Patrick knew he had shortcomings, but he wasn’t going to let himself be treated like this. There would be no more effort and no more unrequited love. He wasn’t going to let anyone, not even Liliana, treat him like he was second best to anyone, not even to Zicky with all his perfect attributes. Patrick, indignant, was about to walk away when Liliana explained:
“It’s because I already turned down Zicky and it might be awkward if I see him there. But, you know what? It doesn’t matter. I’d love to go with you!”
Patrick was wondering what was going on. Was he dreaming? Could Patrick beat the most popular boy in school to the most ravishing girl? This had been quite the roller coaster ride but Patrick welcomed the outcome.
“Wow, girl! Let’s do it!” said Patrick, “but I had the impression that you liked Zicky. You laugh at everything he says.”
“I know. I just can’t help it. It’s just that, it’s so ridiculous. You see, my mother tongue is Quechua, and in Quechua, ‘Zicky Asna’ means ‘stinky bum.’ Could you imagine if I had to try to introduce him to my family? I could never go through with it. I can barely look at the guy without bursting out laughing at him, but it’s not his fault. Poor guy.”
Patrick found it surreal that he was now trying to match her pity for the most popular boy in school.
“Oh! Could you not wear any cologne tonight?” added Liliana.
“Eh! Sure! For you, anything!” replied Patrick with a smile.
*** Friday night, at the school dance ***
At the school dance, Patrick and Liliana forgot about Zicky, for they were together in their own universe. When they walked onto the dance floor, they proudly took center stage under the disco ball of mosaicked mirrors. Patrick felt empowered by her acceptance. He showed her grace and tenderness. Liliana felt pampered. Together, they were oblivious to the other dancers and the world of flickering lights revolving around them. Even the songs resonated deeply with them.
The disk jockey put on a song from Bachman-Turner Overdrive:
You ain’t seen nothin’ yet
B-b-b-baby, you just ain’t seen n-n-n-nothin’ yet
Here’s something that you’re never gonna forget
Patrick sang along. There was no one on the dance floor better qualified to stammer through the lyrics of that song. The conversation between them flowed well even though he faltered on the occasional consonant or hesitated on the odd word. Her sparkling smile lit up his world, and her care and acceptance pervaded his very being. He reciprocated by giving her all the attention and the gallantry that his princess could wish for.
Then, the lights dimmed and time slowed down. The disk jockey played a slow song from the Moody Blues:
Nights in white satin never reaching the end
Letters I’ve written never meaning to send
Beauty I’d always missed with these eyes before
Just what the truth is I can’t say anymore
Yes I love you, oh, how I love you
The two young bodies embraced each other, swaying to the melody. His hands caressed her back, sending shivers down her spine. She responded by rubbing her cheek lightly against his. The song’s climaxing chorus sent the bodies of the young couple writhing gently together, and then she lay her head on his shoulder. Their feelings were untainted by dares, experimentation, misgivings, deceit and artifice. Such began their first love, so sweet, so genuine and so pure.
Author: Raymond Pilon
Written in August 2021 for IWSG