Beauty in the Ashes

“Well, you’re mistaken.”

His face was twisted with anger and irritation. I knew I’d pushed too far and I needed to let the poor guy off the hook.

“Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.”

I slid from the stool and headed back towards the restroom area, but I didn’t enter.

My real purpose for escaping was so I could locate Memphis.

He wasn’t manning the bar and I didn’t see him dropping stuff off at any of the tables.

I was about to give up hope when I spotted our waitress. I grabbed on to her arm before she could enter the kitchen doors.

“Do you need something?” She asked, pushing strands of hair out of her eyes.

“Uh…I’m looking for Memphis.”

“Oh,” she frowned, “are you a friend?”

“Something like that,” I muttered.

She pondered for a moment, nibbling on her lip. Looking around, she said, “I’m not supposed to do this, but come on.”

She led me through the kitchen and out a back door. “He’s on break. You can usually find him down there somewhere.” She started to close the door and leave me outside, but stopped. “Please, don’t tell anyone I did this.”

“Of course not,” I assured her.

“Thanks,” she flashed a relieved smile.

I walked past the dumpsters and trash bags. I finally found Memphis sitting on the concrete with his arms dangling over his knees.

He took a deep breath as my shadow caressed his body.

Slowly, he looked up. I wasn’t prepared to see the hurt in his eyes. I was so shocked by it that I couldn’t even speak. He saved me the trouble. “Hi.”

“Hello,” I squeaked. Why did I have to go and make things so awkward between us? Memphis was a good guy. He was the guy every girl dreamed of ending up with. He was kind and sweet. He had a steady job. He was funny. He was everything I wasn’t ready for.

From his point on the ground, he tilted his head and looked up at me. “I assume you didn’t just come out here to say hello. If that is the case, you’ve done that, and you can leave now.” His words may have sounded harsh, but they really weren’t, and they were less than what I deserved. He spoke them softly, with no hate, just a resigned bitterness.

“No,” I finally spoke, “that’s not why I came out here.”

“I didn’t think so,” he looked back down at the ground.

“I want you to know that I’m really sorry for what I did.”

“For using me?” He flicked his copper colored hair from his eyes. “Because that’s what you did.”

“I didn’t use you, not the way you think,” my tone of voice took on a pleading quality. I wanted him to understand that I wasn’t as callous as he believed. “I do like you, Memphis.”

“But there’s someone else,” he stated. “I wish you would’ve told me, instead of lying and telling me that you didn’t have a boyfriend and—”

“I didn’t lie. I don’t have a boyfriend. Things are complicated.”

“So, yesterday…the kiss…?”

He was going to make me say it. “I…I…Oh God,” I turned away from him, not sure if I was prepared to tell him my true fucked up thought process.

“Just tell me. I’m a big boy. Why. Did. You. Kiss. Me?”