I stood in line waiting for my London Fog like I do everyday. Although the baristas know me well enough by now I don’t know why they don’t just have it ready. Everyday of mine has gone the same for the past seven years. I wake up, go for a jog, shower, get dressed then walk down the street for my tea before going to work.
“Jalissa?” A barista called out this morning.
Just like always, I expected to walk to the counter, get my drink and toss my change in the tip jar. But as I stepped forward, someone turned around to face me.
“Jalissa Charles?” A tall, bald slightly familiar face smiled, seemingly excited to see me.
“Yes?” My furrowed brow told her I didn’t exactly know who she was.
“It’s me, Yasmine Gates. From high school. My god. You look so good.” She held her arms out. “How are you?”
“Yasmine? From eleventh grade?” I hadn’t seen her in about fifteen years. She looked like a different person. Her head was shaved bald. She had lost a lot of weight. Her face was longer, threatening to wrinkle around her mouth. But she looked happy, like she had spent a lifetime earning her smile lines.
She nodded and pulled me into her. “It’s been forever. We really should’ve stayed in touch. How long has it really been? How are you? What are you up to? Where are you living? Do you still hang out with Darcy and them?”
I smiled, overwhelmed.
“Okay, that was a lot. Come, come.” She pulled me out of the line and into one of two chairs around a little wooden table. “I’ll go first.” She smiled. “I went to university then med school. Now I’m a surgeon. I specialize in surgery for trans people. Very rewarding, fulfilling work. Very emotional. I have a dog, Bernard. He’s massive and so cuddly. Um… I bowl. I’m actually captain of my team. That’s fun. But okay, I’ve updated you. Tell me about your life. What is Jalissa up to?”
I sighed, lost in my imagination. Yasmine’s life sounded fast paced and exciting.
“I went to teachers college. I teach elementary school kids. It’s certainly something. My students are very passionate, they’re funny, and sweet. I have no pets. And I do not bowl.” I shrugged. Unsure of what to say.
“I’m surprised to hear you went into teaching. You were such a talented writer.”
“Were.”
“Well do you still write?”
“I write notes on report cards.” I laughed, disappointed in my deferred dream.
“I had heard some rumblings that you were writing and published. What’s happened?”
“This is getting real deep.”
“I know it’s been a long time, but there was once a time you shared just about everything with me.”
“A lot has happened since then, wouldn’t you say, doctor?”
“You’re still mad at me for leaving.” She nodded. “Why am I surprised?”
“We don’t need to get into all this.” I shook my head. “I came in here for tea.”
“There’s got to be a reason we ran into each other’s here today. Let’s get into it.”
“I don’t want to, Yasmine.”
“You should see the look in your eye. You’re still mad. Fifteen years and even now you can’t lie to me. Just say what you think.”
“You really think I’m still holding onto all this?”
“You’re mad I left. Just say so. That way you can forgive me and we can move on. Maybe grab drinks.”
“Everything’s so easy, so casual for you. Always has been.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest.
“And you’re a control freak who hates when other people get in the way of your plans. You’re still mad I went to the Netherlands. You resent my decision, just say it.”
“That was years ago. I’m not mad you made a decision for your career as opposed to staying with your high school girlfriend. It’s not like I assumed we’d be together forever or anything.”
“I don’t buy it.”
“Seriously, Yasmine, I’ve got to get to work. I don’t have time for your games. It was good to see you?” I left the cafe in a rush. This was not what I had expected when I got up this morning.
The next morning, I walked to the cafe to find Yasmine sitting at the same table with two cups in front of her. She waved me over, smiling.
“Go out with me.” She said as I sat down.
“What?”
“I pressed pause in the middle of grade eleven and now I’m pressing play.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “You think I’m just gonna wanna be with you again because we ran into each other?”
“I think you have been the same person with the same routine since I left you to play lacrosse halfway across the world. And I think we bumped into each other at the perfect time. I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Okay, well. I know I never stopped wondering about you. Anytime I was home, in our sleepy little town, I thought maybe I’d see you. I’d run into you at the grocery store or the movie theatre. And you’d say you’d missed me and we’d get our second chance.”
I looked at this face I once recognized, in awe of time and the work it must’ve put in to see us here together again. Fifteen years is a long time to spend missing someone.
She pushed the cup toward me, her eyes smiling and sparkling.
“I did miss you.”
Jam Bridgett (they/she) is a queer painter, writer and student of Afro-Jamaican descent in Toronto. They are interested in gender, race, and human connection to the Earth. Jam’s work can be found in Ascend Magazine, Tongue Tied Magazine and Rose Quartz Magazine. They’re currently writing their first novel. Find them on Instagram & Twitter @yikesjamaica