Catherine
I stepped out of the restaurant with the sound of my heels clicking on the pavement. I could hear my own heart pounding in my chest with every step I took. I wasn't sure if I wanted to pull my own hair or Audrey's at this point.
I felt rejected even though I was the one who called it off. I just have to be mature.
But I was so...so angry.
I picked up the pace, only to stop in the middle of the parking lot when I realized something. Of course, I didn't bring my car. Balling my fists, I was tempted to throw the composed act away.
I really thought we'd have a nice dinner, and Glen would deny that it was him who I saw in the tent doing God knows what.
I was so focused on confronting him, I didn't realize that I still had the same stupid plan for the evening!
Looking around to make sure that nobody was present, I started grabbing fistfuls of hair from my ponytail and just stood there like I was trying to find something I lost. Maybe it was my sanity. Who knows? I felt like I was going crazy.
I was angry, frustrated, and just overall disappointed.
I knew I wasn't attractive enough. Not charming enough. Not Audrey enough.
Be mature about this.
I exhaled loudly as I attempted to fix my hair. I was looking for a mirror inside my bag when I heard someone chuckle. I quickly looked around, a hundred worst-case scenarios running inside my head.
Holy shiznick.
I saw a dim glow of red at the other end of the parking lot. There was a person leaning on his motorbike, as if waiting for someone. I've seen enough murder documentaries to know that I shouldn't panic and pretend I didn't see him. Either that or I try my luck and run for my life.
Then there was the sound of an engine starting. Strangely enough, the motorcycle's headlight wasn't on. Motorbikes were supposed to have their headlights on. Trying to act like I just didn't throw a tantrum in the middle of the parking lot, I walked away briskly.
I will not die tonight.
I didn't want to take a cab. The mere thought of someone looking at my face and knowing that I just cried was not something I wanted right now. Facing people would mean putting the mask back on. Cold Catherine, all alone. I just needed time to breathe.
I've been walking for over half an hour, trying to stay in crowded streets. I wasn't really sure where I wanted to go. I felt like Forrest Gump. I don't know why I kept walking. I just wanted to. People should do that. For once in their miserable lives, do something random and not explain themselves.
I stopped to rest for a few minutes. My feet hurt. Taking my heels off, I sat down and placed my hands on my cheeks.
I'm going to get wasted tonight. Maybe that would cloud my mind and let my poor brain relax even for just a couple of hours.
Let's see! I always had a to-do list.
1.Have a nice dinner with boyfriend and not talk about work. (But we sure talked about something else)
2.Find another guy just in case Audrey catches wind and steals the current one away.
I laughed to myself. Audrey and I don't even talk that much anymore. Audrey's like that long strand of hair that you find in between your fingers that you couldn't get rid off in the shower. Just when you're convinced that it's gone, it just reappears someplace else.
"I do it for you," she would usually say. She was just making sure that I got a decent man who wouldn't fall for people like her. We've argued about it before, but everything I said just fell on deaf ears. Now it's like a sick, twisted game of hide and seek. And my relatives wonder why I don't bring anyone during family dinners.
Glen was the third one she successfully hit on.
If this was baseball, I would have shouted 'Yeeer out!'
"You should give yourself credit Catherine, you survived. Emotionally and psychologically scarred but you're okay. You make enough money, nobody really hates you." I looked up to the sky.
"Hey big guy! I'm doing alright...right?!"
I must have looked like a total nutcase. I could almost hear the owner of the liquor store that was on the other side of the street phoning the cops.
I brought one of my shoes near my ear and lowered my voice. "Hello officer, I'd like to report a woman in a grey suit, shouting to the sky. I think she's gone crazy." I put my imaginary phone down and lied down on the pavement. Lied down, like I just got home from work and I couldn't wait to get to bed. I was just hoping there wasn't any gum on my hair by the time I got up. .
One moment I was convincing myself to act like an adult, and now I'm lying on the side of the street asking God if I was doing okay with my life.
"I'm doing alright. I'm going to make it alright." I was determined. I'm going to be stronger, tougher.
Right after crying this one out.
As if on cue, my vision began to blur. My brain reported an overcast, followed by heavy rainfall. As much as I wanted to be an independent woman, of course I wanted someone. I wanted someone who would look at me like I was perfect, even if I was far from that. Someone who would take care and worry about me. I'd do the same for him. Just that, nothing more. So far, all I've gotten were demands, complaints, and a few miserable attempts of them getting in my pants.
Right, that's it. No more.
I stood up and started walking to the other side of the street, not bothering to look if there was anyone who could possibly hit me with their vehicle. I've been contradicting myself the whole evening. It was almost midnight and cars weren't common in this part of town anyway. I'm going to buy myself a bottle of red wi-- vodka. I was about seven steps away when I heard tires screeching.
It took me some time to process what just happened. I saw my legs were a few inches away from a motorbike's tire. My emotions were at an all-time high. I was upset with both of us.
It was partly my fault that I wasn't fully aware of my surroundings but he could have at least made his presence known. I was contemplating if I should give him a piece of my mind, but thought better of it and decided to apologize instead. I was hoping to see one of those dudes with biker beards, bear-personified. They weren't all bad. I was hoping this man wasn't as well.
I was ready to see Santa on wheels, but all I can say is that he looked like the night. He didn't have one of those biker jackets on. His shirt had grease on it, and it looked like he tore his sleeves all by himself. With his bike almost leaning to the side, his thigh was more noticeable in his taut jeans. This guy was smart enough to know that men with muscular thighs needed regular jeans to show off.
He leaned forward and looked at me, amused. I don't know if it's from all the novels I've read, but he had a face that made you want to look closer just to take in every little detail. The kind that lures you outside with pretty stars and a gentle breeze. Like one of those nights that made you want to go out barefoot and slowly make your way into the wilderness.
Then it leaves you in the middle of the woods to be eaten by a pack of wolves.
From what little light provided by the signs at the liquor store, I could make out his facial features. He had a slightly crooked nose, and his lips were plump enough to make you want to touch them to see if they were as soft as they looked. His eyes told me that he was as curious as I was. I mean if I looked at myself in his shoes, I would've seen a disheveled piece of disappointment. I haven't slept well for the past couple of days so if he gave me a dollar for looking homeless, I wouldn't put it against him.
"You're not wearing a helmet," I murmured.
Well, okay.
I could've told him something more apt or sincere, but that was all I could think of at the moment.
"And you're not looking at where you're going." He killed the engine and sighed, feigning disappointment.
"I was almost on the other side, I didn't bother looking." It felt like I was in a bathtub of emotions and now they were just gone. Just down the drain. I sniffed, fighting the urge not to wipe my nose in front of this stranger. Strangely, I smelled a faint scent of apples.
"You're far from the other side. It's not your time yet." He got off his bike, opened the compartment from his bike's seat and took out a helmet. After putting it on, he got back on while I stepped out of his way.
I was brokenhearted. A while ago, it felt like I couldn't breathe. If I didn't move out of his way, I wouldn't be breathing at all.
"I think you should be more careful. Distractions are good every once in a while, but not when you're crossing the street. See you around, Cat."
Then he was gone.
I walked to the liquor store and just settled with red wine. As I was standing there to wait for a cab, my eyes gradually widened. It took me some time to finally realize what just happened. I could've been badly hurt, and that walking on a street where cars barely passed was dangerous. I could've been robbed. Or kidnapped.
That was stupid.
After hailing a cab, I got in and stared out the window, not really noticing anyone until I got out and opened the door to my apartment. I walked inside, stripped off my clothes, got a wine glass, and sat on my bed in my undies.
Alas! Another lonely night for Catherine Wright.
That would be a nice name for a book.
"Help me out here." I whispered, as I laid down staring at the ceiling.
"Don't you think it's about time you send me the one? I mean we could start off as friends. I won't ask for something like love at first sight. Just tell me which coffee shop I should frequent." I paused. I was talking to God again. I swear He may have just put his earplugs on. I somehow started doing this unironically when I was in primary school. I mean I had no one to talk to anyway. Might as well just talk to the big man. He doesn't talk back, but it kept me sane.
I drank my wine and read a book that I got as a birthday present from Glen. We broke up, but I was not throwing out a New York Times Bestseller.
When I finished drinking half the bottle, I turned off the lamp and lied down.
"You know what? Scratch that. Send me a distraction instead. If I'm going to be a cat lady in the foreseeable future, let me have a story to tell my cats."
I was about to close my eyes when I remembered something.
The motorbike's headlight wasn't on –
and the man knew my name.