Adley
After the symphony is over, I turn to Steph and find her
looking at me with this expression of pure happiness. I wonder
how much of that has to do with her being out for the first
time. Like, literally out. Out with a woman as more than just a
friend. We held hands. I loved it. I loved the music. I’m not a
classical person. I’ve never really experienced it beyond
elevators and hold music and the occasional mishap in
switching the radio station, but I think that might have been
one of the best nights of my life.
It was better than any concert I’ve ever been to.
Admittedly, half of them I was either pretty drunk at or bored
out of my mind, but even if they had been excellent and I had
a great time, this would far surpass it.
After we’re out of the impressive arts building, which
was probably built in the eighties because it’s all brick and
glass and totally outdated, but still pretty spectacular, and in
the parking lot, I look for Steph’s car in the sea of people and
cars exiting the giant asphalt area. I can’t even spot it.
I’m not ready to go home. It’s more than just the fact
that I don’t want to be alone in my empty, depressing little
apartment. We start walking in a new direction, as clearly
Steph can’t find her car either, and I swallow back what I was
going to say.
The car is a black sedan. It’s nice, expensive. I don’t
like thinking about that. It makes me feel funny because I
know that Steph doesn’t like it. If I brought it up, it would
probably be okay. I’ve known from the start. I just know that
people haven’t been very nice about it in the past and whether
she was interested in them or not, and that still stings.