☁ five times my muse has thought about yours, and the one time they do something about it.
i. sometimes people were like puzzles, and ezra was drawn to them like a moth to a flame. he’s seen the girl around, hovering around the restaurant his family’s been going to ever since it opened up. he’s sixteen and wondering what it’d be like to love someone, and if it was ever possible to come in the form of her. she’s just a stranger, of course, but he can’t help but wonder. his fingers drum against the table as he and his parents wait for their order, and for a split second, their eyes meet from across the restaurant. he is the first to look away.
ii. college, as it turns out, becomes the place where you seem to know everyone. ezra knows the girl in one of the windows of the art building, though he’s never really talked to her before. he thinks that maybe, just maybe, one day he’ll get to put a name to the face. his opportunity comes when he sees her at a party, lazing across someone’s sofa and talking to someone. when they leave her alone, he awkwardly tightens his grip on his beer, and takes a deep breath. he steps forward, but her friend is back. it’d be rude for him to butt into their conversation, so he moves away again. another time, maybe.
iii. he finally gets his chance a few weeks later, but he still feels awkward. jo becomes a mystery he’s eager to crack, hot and cold with the way she reacts to him. but the more they revolve in each other’s circles, the more he has reason to believe they’ll get closer. while he’s shopping for his cousins’ christmas gifts in korea, ezra comes across a doll that seems to look just like her: blonde hair, big eyes, a heart-shaped face. he stops, peering forward to take a quick snap of the photo. when he gets home, he has half the mind to send it to her, see what she thinks of it; but he stops, and closes the app. they’re not that close yet.
iv. what do you do when you’re faced with a problem? usually, you figure out how to solve it so it’s over and done with. and while ezra is more than reconsidering his plan of action here, he’s never done too well with impulse control. but hey, he figured he’d ask. he tries to rehearse the words he says in his head over and over again like the dorky sidekick of an 80′s teen movie: han, you coming to this one party i heard about? we could, like, go together. i mean i could drive you there and shit. maybe we could pregame at your place. the more he thinks about it, the more it sounds stupid to him. he finally arrives at thayer hall with the intention of knocking on jo’s door, but he reconsiders. he stands for a little too long and the r.a. is asking him for who he’s looking for, but instead ezra lets out a small smile and a shake of his head. “no one, sorry,” he lies. it’s so smooth he almost believes it himself. “i don’t think they’re in today.”
v. smoke curls out of his lips as he lies on his childhood bed, the window popped open so the smell of weed doesn’t fill the room. if there’s one less thing he wants his parents to worry about, it’s him cruising through college partially stoned. his family dinner’s only two hours away, but with the way he’s pleasantly mellowed out, he’s reconsidering the nap he’d originally thought of having. instead he pulls out his boots and heads off, thinking a drive would be a much better way to clear his head. he’s cruising through the streets of raleigh when he spots a familiar figure a few feet away, perusing through the shops that line downtown. he rolls down the window as he pulls up at a stoplight, sticking his head out. half of his mind tells him to yell out to her, the other half is telling him to get a move on because the light’s turned green again, and he has to go. he ducks back in, and drives, the sounds of car horns much louder than he’s used to.
vi. he’s paying off his dealer behind the back alley of one of the college bars he frequents, shoving the baggie into his pocket. the wind bites his chubby cheeks and his nose is turning red from the bitter cold. ezra trudges into the bar to get some warmth, and after a glass or two of beer he's pleasantly buzzed. he gets an idea and whips out his phone, fingers still shaking slightly from the cold. “fucking hell,” he mutters, shaking his head. there’s only one person he can think of that might do this with him, and it takes another half-glass for him to send a text: yo, jo. got a new baggie and it’s the night after the birthday and i know it’s fuckin crazy but would u maybe wanna smoke some of it atop the observatory??? i know it’s cold as shit but like. it’s always good smokin w u. let me know, i’m here at the bar. u know the one.
