Yes, he replies.A very intimate performance.
A month ago, this wouldn’t have felt like a risk. But now it does. Flirtation is always a wave between two people, and it used to be that he knew its rhythms with V. Now he feels unsure about when it’s going to crest.
He’s even more unsure after getting V’s response:I see.
Surely, he thinks, there will be more.
He waits.
And waits.
Okay, so it’s his turn. He types,I happen to have my guitar with me, so am available now for an engagement.
The three dots appear and stay for a while. Is she typing something lengthy, or merely rewriting the same sentence over and over?
Finally, more words arrive:
It’s not that I forgot what it was like to see you perform...but I don’t think I was prepared for how it would feel to be standing there, watching. I was sure you didn’t know I was there, because I was sure if you saw me, I’d see the change. I would see your awareness. I liked getting to see you without me in the room. But I also missed being in the room, because it made me realize how much you share it with me when I’m there.
A group of boisterous late-night teenagers passes J as he reads. One of them jostles his arm, but he barely notices. His oblivious-ness makes some of the teens laugh. Only their laughter makes him look up, and when he looks up, the teen who jostled him stops laughing and shoots him a look that says,Oh, dude, you’re going through some deep shit, aren’t you?
J types,Where are you right now? Are you still in Brooklyn?
She replies,I’m in transit. Though that statement will still apply when I get home.
Would you like me to follow?
I would like you to follow. And I wouldn’t like you to follow. I feel both things at once. I don’t know how to decide between them. Or if I should decide anything right now.
I would like to be there with you.
I hope I don’t sound presumptuous if I say I know that. I know what you want. I don’t take that for granted. Or maybe I do. I don’t know what’s fair anymore. To you, to me, to us. I imagine you’ve picked up on that.
That may have come across at lunch.
Yes, sorry about that.
I’m sorry too.
For what?
I don’t know,J types. Then he knows he has to do better, so he adds,For coming here, I guess. For putting you on the spot. The not-knowing was growing too invasive, too persistent. I had to do something to know for sure what was happening.
V replies,But there’s only one answer you want... and I don’t know that I can give it to you. Not without it being a lie.
A lie?
I’m not saying it would be a lie to answer that I want to be with you. I’m saying it would be a lie to give any answer, to say I know what I want right now.
So there’s hope.
You’re putting me on the spot again. I don’t know how to answer that without either getting your hopes up or knocking them down.
Now it’s J who typesI see,without realizing it’s an echo of V’s earlier remark.
There’s another pause. J has almost reached the subway. He needs to know what to do, where to go.
What was the line in the Skye song about being a kid? V asks.
