Pomegranate
Jack steals the glass and I pocket the stirrer, wrap it in my palm so that the see-through spike pokes from my fist like a weapon. It’s not, but you are.
Jack doesn’t even wrap it, doesn’t have a bag to zip it into or a coat to carry it out under. Instead, he holds it by his thigh like a kid hiding behind a lamp post, and no-one notices, not even the bouncers. They’re both a head taller and their eyes are on the smokers, on sleeveless arms and inviting fringes. Or uninviting – it’s all about the cut and the dry.
Outside, he presents it like a rose to me, except there’s no tissue wrapping, its petals aren’t browning – there isn’t a chip or a smash. I take it by the stem and try to catch Jack’s eyes, to say I could really use somebody with swagger, sure eyes aren’t on them. But his are on the ends of cigarettes, watching ash drop like it’s the apocalypse.
At home, someone else in my sheets, someone switching out the light, I plant the stirrer in the glass like an ice lolly stick in earth, indicating what’s in there, what’s underneath, and what should appear, eventually, given enough time.
2009 Kirby asked for my number. There were fireworks because it was November 5th. There have to have been.
Joe asked me ‘Are you still with Jack, Amy?’ and it was strange hearing my name in his mouth. It smelled salty on his breath from across the table.
Pete had too many drinks. We were turned away from Tokyo and he convinced me he skinned a deer the night before. I was unsure when Joe reassured me. I pictured arms up to elbows and decisive scalpels. It all sort of fitted.
Chris sent me an email. Listed films he’d seen, ones I should see, and my head rocked back to 2005. I didn’t reply.
Ben didn’t say anything. He was still stuck on Bella, and will always be. Some people sink to your stomach and stay there.
D passed my sister on the street. On the phone she said, ‘Poor boy, he’s probably just embarrassed.’ My head was all meant-to-be whilst running in another direction.
Tim said ‘D would love to see you.’ I kept my mouth closed in a firm smile. I was ready to bare incisors at the thought of seeing Sarah.
Rob sent a book for my birthday that was meant to change me, but I will always be sixteen when it comes to him.
Will went to America, invited me to New Year’s, and contradicted everything I said. AMY MACKELDEN 6
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