Writing Etude: I saw you sitting at a bus stop once

I was in Albuquerque for the weekend, riding in the passenger seat of a car driving up Menaul, approaching San Mateo. The traffic was heavy. The light turned red, and the car stopped. The springtime air was getting hot and we had the windows rolled down. I could see Highland High School off to my right and immediately thought of you. You are always my next thought when I think of Highland High School. Even if I had had other connections to the school, you would still be the most significant.

I looked to my left and there you were, sitting on a bench, as if I’d thought you into existence. Your hair was longer than I’d ever seen. The sun was very bright. I wasn’t sure it was you. You were wearing jeans that fit loosely, and a pair of steel-toed work boots. You had a water bottle balanced between your legs and when you tipped your head back to take a drink, your hair shifted, exposing the line of your jaw. My heart beat faster. 

You made me susceptible to men with a certain kind of jaw.

I glanced at the man in the driver’s seat. For a moment I could see you both at the same time. See that jaw, though that’s where the resemblance ended. The driver wasn’t looking at you or at me. He was tapping his thumb on the steering wheel in time to the music and watching for the light to change. He lifted up his ball cap with one hand and swiped his hair back with the other before dropping the cap back in place. He looked in the rear-view mirror and squeezed the hat brim into a tight curve.

I didn’t want him to see you. I wanted to see you all for myself. I didn’t want him to ask me about you. I didn’t think he even knew who you were. When I looked back at you, you were looking at me too. Did you recognize me? The street was wide. I was wearing a hat. My hair was shorter than you’d ever seen. It was darker inside the car than in the glaring sun outside. You didn’t shade your eyes.

You didn’t look away.

A torrent of images flashed through my head, and emotional heat flooded my chest. Could you skate in those boots? What ever happened to the Star Wars sheets you wrapped around me? Are you on your way to work? What do you do? Who gets to kiss your jaw? Who gets to hear your raw jokes? Who do you write poems for? How do you remember me? Are you ok?

My eyes were torn away only when the car rolled forward. I glanced back once and you were staring at the spot I had just left, but your gaze seemed farther away. Did you know it was me?