Blue Glass

Title: Blue Glass
Date: March 3rd, 2011





The morning mists rolled in off the lake. I wondered why they were more noticeable today than they had been on all the other days I sat and watched it happen, shivering in the dawn light instead of enjoying the warmth and comfort of my bed. Maybe I was trying to focus on something else – anything else – that didn’t have anything to do with my own problems; maybe I was just enjoying the quiet for a change. I couldn’t say for certain.

Another shiver ran through me as the ghost of a touch – damp, chapped lips grazing my abdomen, hinting at venturing lower – caressed my senses. I pushed the memory away and drew my legs up. That night was over. The dawn unfolding over the lake in front of me proved it.

Wind whipped around me, bringing with it clouds that blotted out the grey-purple sky; a few moments passed and raindrops, barely big enough to feel, began to paint my skin with dampness. I gritted my teeth and hunkered down against the weather, all the while hating myself for not remembering my jacket.

Phantom hands moved the hair away from my neck and invisible lips traced maddening patterns against my goose pimpled flesh. A whimper escaped my lips; I don’t know if it was because I had a weakness for my neck being kissed, or because no matter how hard I tried to ignore the memories, they wouldn’t let themselves be ignored.

“Your ass must be soaked from all that wet sand beneath it. There’s a perfectly good bench two feet to your left and a bunch of nice, dry rocks scattered around the cove. Why not use them?”

A paper cup of coffee with a plastic lid was held under my nose. Pepper tossed a blanket down on the cold, damp sand and reclined with her own brew. She was completely unaffected by the rain that was steadily getting heavier, but that was normal. Why was I noticing it?

“So you slept with Jasper, huh?” The casually-tossed question startled me more than her abrupt, unannounced appearance. A smirk crossed her darkly-pained and with her free hand, she pushed a sodden, greying auburn curl from her freckled face. “Sweetie, it’s okay. I’m not your mom. I’m not gonna start harping on you about sleeping with another boy.”

“He left for university this morning,” I finally responded. My voice sounded dull and lifeless, and I didn’t know why. “He left a note; said he’d paid for the hotel room and the room service bill, that he didn’t want to wake me – I looked too peaceful, according to him.”

“And once you could use your legs again, you came straight here,” Pepper surmised; I nodded.

We both had a sip of coffee. It was the first cup of coffee I’d ever had in my whole lifetime. I knew that she never had anything in her coffee, and that she hadn’t put anything in mine, but it didn’t taste . . . I don’t think I’m capable of describing it. Instead of bitter and lip-puckering and eye-twitching tartness, it just tasted like a cup of black tea would. If I hadn’t smelled the scent of her favourite Starbucks blend, I would’ve sworn that it was plain black tea.

“I don’t regret doing it,” I stated. I drained the still-warm liquid and crushed the empty paper cup in my hand. “I just . . . I feel weird, Pepper.”

The middle-aged widow rolled over and rested her head in her arms. “Figuring out your sexuality and losing your virginity all in the span of a single night will definitely change your perspective, so things are probably gonna be weird for a while. Think you’ll miss him?”

“. . . no, I don’t think I’ll miss him.” The scent of his cologne mingled with the crispness of the blustering winds; a stone dropped into my stomach, dragging everything that I was down with it. “I know I’ll miss him. I’ve got to get to school, Pep. Thanks for the coffee.”