“I’ll be fine.” She picks up her untouched takeout box and raises a hand to the rest of the group, who all call out goodbye and some final compliments about her set.
I’m still standing there like an idiot when she brushes past me after a hurried, “Uh, goodnight.”
I stare at her retreating figure for a moment before Nabil prods my shin with his foot.
“Youssef. What are you doing? Go after her!”
“Huh?”
“She is walking away. Go!”
She’s crossing an intersection now. She’s already hard to see, all dressed in black as she moves between the streetlights.
She’s really leaving. I just found her again, and she’s leaving.
This time Nabil actually kicks me.
“Do I have to carry you or something? Wake up,hemar!”
That’s all it takes. My limbs come to a snap decision before my brain has time to catch up, and then I’m running towards her while I call out her name. We’re the only people on the block where I catch up with her. She freezes when she hears me shouting and turns to face me in front of adépanneurthat’s closed for the night. They’ve left the neon Bud Light sign in their window on, and it casts a blue glow on her skin and hair.
“Paige,” I repeat, lowering my voice now that she’s right in front of me. “Wait.”
I didn’t run far enough to lose my breath, but I’m still panting, blood rushing in my ears as I move my gaze to her mouth and then back up to her eyes again—remembering what was, memorizing what is.
“Youssef.” It’s the first time she’s said my name tonight, and it nearly knocks the wind out of me. “What do you want from me?”
I blurt the first thing that comes to mind.
“I just want to know.”
I want to know everything. I want to fill in all the gaps. I want to know every moment and choice and action that took her from being a fifteen year-old listening to MGMT albums with me in my parents’ basement to the woman in front of me now. I want to know every thought she’s had, every fear she’s faced, every triumph she’s celebrated, every mistake she’s regretted.
I want to know if I’m one of them. I want to know how we got here. I want to know what happens next.
We’re standing so close now. She’s still got her hand balled up in the sleeve of her hoodie, but if she moved just a little, her knuckles would be close enough to reach out and brush mine.
“I think...” Her voice is soft, softer than it’s been all night. Breakable, even.
But Paige never breaks.
“I think it’s too late for that.”
She says them just as soft, but those words are a curse that keeps me rooted to the pavement when she leaves.
I don’t follow after her this time.
