Would you like to exchange numbers? Maybe we can get together this summer or something.
The summer heat had poured into the school and it was apparent on the student's faces. The boy she had an eye on during the year was asking to exchange numbers with her. She gulped. A group of his friends appeared around him suddenly and seemed to drown her out immediately. Oh well. She just walked away. The quiet pitter-patter of footsteps hurried from behind her. As she turned she met a face with uncertainty painted all over it. In his hand he held a cassette plastic case. Black pen was inked on the white paper. She looked back into his eyes. He stared silent. And readjusted his footing.
My band is playing tonight at The Raven Cafe. It would be nice to see you there.
Now this was different.
Okay, I'll see if I can make it.
He was all-to-quiet again and offered up the hand with the tape in it. She placed her hand over it, her fingers sliding over his to grip the case.
He stared at her and smiled quickly.
Have a good summer, California.
He left as quickly as he came and she just turned around and continued her walk with the cassette in hand. Why did he call her California?
Her mind recalled all the emotion she felt, and wondered if she hurt him in any way by not showing up that night at the show. Why now, did she think about him? Why had the tape never left her car. Sirens were heard, and she realized she was crying.
The night reviewed at 7:04, and she was finally home. She slipped in the tape and touched the worn torn paper that had been apart from the tape for months probably. The black ink had run and it was written with a creative hand. A title was written larger than the song titles following it: California Suicide. She gulped and the music crept slowly, quietly into her ears and exploded with an eery feeling. She whispered California Suicide and fell into bed, the red sheets swallowing her.
It was just like she imagined. The reddened walls climbed into a black torment of dying stars and heaven-envying tree branches. No one stared at her and she felt remorseful for not being there that night. But why, she never even knew him. She ordered a small Mocha and receeded into a table facing a wooden stage that bore holes and aged cracks.