Obsession

"I am not going to preach to you today," the tall, thin man at the church podium addressed the audience with his introduction. Church had began a little late today, because he had lost all notes taken over the past year. When asked if he wanted to postpone his first time at the pulpit, he responded, 'No, let me speak from the heart then.' With palms flat on the solid oak podium, this preacher man inhaled a calming sigh giving his words a much more soothing tone. "My name is Justin Halabey. You could never have known me because I had fallen away from church life many years ago," the crowd gasped with disbelief at his testimony. "It is true. This is my first time actually preaching the word to anyone beside my own little circle. Why is this, you may ask yourself? Why would a preacher fall from grace? This road we journey can be trying sometimes. It tried me those years ago, stripping me of my hearing. I thought I was unable to communicate with anyone, even God, because I could not hear." Justin kept sweeping the congregation for signs of attention. "I lost my soul mate. My God given love because I could not hear her asking for compassion," sad emotions stirring in Justin's heart were gulped back down to his stomach, "And so, I lost faith in the reasons that bring us to church every Sunday. The same reasons that bring me back here today. Now I said I was not going to preach today which I am not. Instead, I am going to tell you a story," Justin casually leaned against the stand, feeling its coolness against his adrenaline heated skin. "Life," his pause drew emphasize to the word, "Let us use the metaphor of a circle to represent your immediate life which includes you, your friends, family, work, your world. But there is not just your circle, there exists a circle for each individual human and these circles overlap and connect each in someway spreading across the entire planet. Love is a common adhesive for many circles. Bonding of marriages, boyfriends, girlfriends, families, those of us who love work, school, life. Love. The bible is a book of love. God's love for his Son, Jesus. God's undying love for us. It brings a person to ramble words they've never spoken. It conjures a driving need in people so great, they would die for the love of their country. It causes birds to sing in harmony and separates the beastly from the godly. With this in mind our story begins as many times as we find ourselves when we meet someone, in the middle of their circle."

CHAPTER 1

The college campus was stamped in the middle of downtown. Which was reason why, even in the middle of the night, traffic was still bustling around the edges of the parking lot's public access streets. This gave the illusion of activity still in the college. But, a part of the illusion is real, being a sole green sedan sized Mitsubishi was parked towards the back end of the lot, near the wooden fence that separated the college grounds from backyards of what once were family homes but over decades had transformed into make shift dorms. The only two occupants of the forest green vehicle exited after having staying still for a moment's breath, watching the row of fences for movement. A tall man stretched from the driver's side, pulling his loose knit sweater down over his trousers. His hood was in knots around his cranium giving evidence of a jumble of hair underneath. Brown eyes scanned the fence slowly. A smile crept across his thin lips when he spotted a baby blue home beyond the fence's boundaries. The woman stepping from the passenger side, wore an evening dress, cut short length to reveal slender legs. When she stood next to him, he no longer was considered tall. Standing behind him, her eyes told of unasked questions hidden in the depths of friendship. They approached the backyard fence of the baby blue house. Music whispering its quick paced rhythm brought the woman to swing in a slow circle. "We were supposed to be at the club a hour ago, Miles." Disappointment rang through the fact. "Quiet, she's moving," his body wriggled with excitement. "She can't hear us Miles," she said his name trying to mentally pull him from the fence but he was immune to her attempt for his attention. There existed only that baby blue house with the lengthy backyard. He tapped his watch, "Like a script, isn't it Kaylee. She's restless and needs to create." Kaylee shook her head in disbelief, stopped watching and slumped against the fence, "I'll wait till you're through." Miles was still lost in viewing the moving shadows of the baby blue house. The living room stretched from the front door to the large bay window in the back giving him a perfect view of her beauty on nights like tonight, when she would walk outlined by the dim light of the room, painting on a canvas close to the bay window. Illustrations of exquisite manner, her drawings must be of real life images trapped in her head. Miles scribbled the words on a notepad fetched from his back pant's pocket.

THE BABY BLUE HOUSE

The interior of the house was as quiet as an empty house is in the middle of the city. The spacious house abided only Maya and her boyfriend, Jez. The three bedroom house gave reason for the two to pursue each owns hobbies. He, a weight trainer, would allow his hobby to stretch out of its room; left out shoes, dropped fitness magazines, overweighted dumb bells were speratically placed in the hallway. Maya waded through the spread of healthy living in the hallway, stopping in the living room. This room had been added onto the back of the house before the couple had rented it, giving it a tucked away feeling. A feeling that allowed Maya to pursue her own hobby of drawing. She stood before a tiny easel canvas, holding a dirty piece of charcoal in her hands. Draw something from within you to release this anger you suppress. Maya stared at the blank canvas, studying its possibilities. Her amber eyes drifted to the hallway in which she came. He is able to spread around the house, why can't I? Her concentration shifted to the white wall behind the canvas. I think there is more possibility in room for expansion. Time soared by as she stroked and designed with pieces of charcoal, creating a twisted representation of the real world. Like the scripted play Miles spoke of, her boyfriend yelled from the bedroom for her to come to bed. If this night were to follow that scripted play, she would humbly stop drawing and leave. Except this was life, so she ignored him and continued creating.

STILL THAT NIGHT OUTSIDE THE BABY BLUE HOUSE

"You prove art is not confined to canvas, but is something tangible," Miles muttered the words as he jotted them on a paper on. Maya had stopped composing on canvas, carrying her work to the walls of the room, where she drew charcoal drawings for half an hour more until her boyfriend came in the room scolding her as if she were a child, never once looking at her art. Miles withdrew his attention now, turning a broad grin to Kaylee. "You're obsessing," Kaylee peered through the fence, checking 'she' was gone. "What? This?" He pointed to the baby blue house, "In any other country this is normal, trying to observe the one you truly love. Just because you're stuck in tunnel vision view of normalcy, doesn't mean I have to be in that sight." "What is that supposed to mean?" Miles checked for one more glimpse, "I love watching her." "No matter what your call it, you're still obsessing," Kaylee restated.

MALE COLLEGE DORM HOUSE

Miles' morning began early enough to choose the day's clothes, shower, shave, and complete a few routine chores. Somedays it appeared too early, as Miles would drive for miles towards the college, scarcely seeing anyone else on the streets. His morning ritual path consisted first of driving past the front of Maya's baby blue home, turning two quick corners and pulling into Justin's dormitory home. Miles grabbed what little mail was stuffed in Justin's box at the front door. Another part to the ritual that aided Justin's connection to the world. Before they embarked college four years ago, Justin had lost his hearing and consequently the will to speak in public. Ever since then, Miles worried about Justin's bitterness and criticism towards life, love, God. At least Justin had agreed to live in the college's only practicing Christian dorm, despite the fact he live up in the attic, secluded from the world. As Miles ascended the stair well, he shuffled through the mail, singling out a manila envelope. Once at the top, Miles entered the room slowly as to no startle but caution Justin of a person entering. "You received another letter from Saint Paul Church, they must really want you to come speak." In Miles' hand was the now opened manila envelope. "You mean be a freak on display, right?" Justin over exaggerated his diction mocking the hearing person before him. He crumbled the envelope and its contents, throwing it blindly into the room. "I can't help people at church. Their politics hamper everything," Justin stopped talking, continuing his rant in sign language, "You can't teach hypocrites. Besides, I don't like talking to people, you know that." "It's your decision, Justin. I'm only here to ask questions, not run your life." "Very well then, ask a question," Justin moved the conversation inside the room. Miles followed the 'sunless skinned shrimp', a childhood nickname given to Justin because of his red hair and freckled skin could not retain the warmth of the sun. He wore plaid pajamas to bed as a result of emotional scarring driving him to constantly be dressed head to toe. "Justin, how does one know they are in love?" Asking the question using sign language. Silent laughter was the first response from Justin then his hands spoke, "Love? Tell me first what you know of it." "How do I know what it is if I don't know when I'm in it?" Miles checked his watch, trying to rush their conversation. "The answer is already there, your heart will know because God, Himself, will guide you. So don't worry about the knowledge and consumption of love, it will be given," Justin held out his nightstand bible for further study. "But, you know I love Keren, right?" Miles refused the gesture. "It's rather obvious." Justin's eyes rolled at the fact. "But I love someone else, too." Justin shook his head, "You cannot love two people the same. There will come a time when love between a man and a woman, in this case you and Keren, calls for a choice of sacrifice to forsake all others." Miles paused for a moment grasping Justin's idea, "But lately, I don't understand Keren." "I've always thought that people are people, they are what they are. It's just what situation they are in is how we perceive them. To understand them is to see their situation." "Her situation is cloudy to me. At first I thought it was love. Anticipating her every desire, trying desperately to see her every minute I could, thinking of her until I started loosing touch with the world. Now I think it was only because the sex was great and the relationship new, but there is no substance between us. She gave me what I wanted, not what I needed. I thought I knew that that was love, until-" the sentence lost in love. Justin waved his hands for attention, "Until?" "Until I met Maya," By merely mentioning her name, Miles stepped onto 'cloud 9'. "The woman making the lanterns for Ryan's dance?" "Yes, we have been talking after Ryan's meetings. She tells me her views on life. Her smell, her smile, everything about her can be summed up in the word beautiful," Miles shimmered, "I'm in love again, Justin." "I thought you didn't know what love was." "Then, let's call it infatuation?" "How are you going to express this love to her?" "I started that already, sending anonymous letters. But Keren?" Miles was concerned as well as confused. "I don't know how to handle her." "People should get over relationships," Justin meant it more for Miles than Keren. Miles' wrist watch beeped allowing him to ignore the remark, "Are you going to class this morning Justin? It's 7:32 am." "Oh, yes. Be right out," Justin shut the door, put a pair of pants on along with socks and shoes then stepped out. "Justin?" Miles remained calm in hiding any anxiety. "What?" Justin stopped mid step in the doorway. Miles' hand pointed to Justin's waist, "Your books." Justin checked his arms making sure the books were not there. Miles also helped Justin mentally stay in school, for the Lord's work could be mind consuming. "They're under the bed, I think."

THAT SAME MORNING AT THE BABY BLUE HOUSE

Once he was out of the room, she hung over the side of the bed, reaching for a letter she had thrown there trying to hide it from him last night, because he could not understand words like these. She proceeded to unfold the letter, with each rustle of paper came a glance to the door spying for Jez's return. Finally unfolded, Maya would read the words again, her voice hushed underneath her breath. "Dear Maya, Allow me to pretend you do not know me. Humor the idea that there is someone out there that admires you for you. I have heard you speak of feelings that no one cares for you so this is my pledge to you for you to always remember, someone out there is only thinking of the good in you. And if you do not reach that stardom you seek, at least one person will give applause as you succeed or fail." A smile had grown across her face broadening with each read word. A secret admirer, someone that had been listening when she spoke of her woes and aspirations. She held tightly to the edges, scanning it over and over embedding it into her mind. An admirer? Was that not supposed to only happen in high school? She appreciated the words while rereading the letter, this time searching for clues of the mysterious author but finding none. The words were typed giving no recognizable handwriting, no signature, no hidden clues. This definitely was a secret admirer that wanted to stay a secret and would for now. Jez came down the hallway calling for her to awaken. Quickly, Maya pulled a shoe box from underneath the bed and dropped the letter in it sliding it back under the bed. Contiguously Jez opened the door, his tone not changing from its degrading level, "You're awake," his persistent irritation kept Maya on guard. "Ready to go?" Maya looked herself over. Her boyfriend was already dressed in a white polo shirt, khaki pants. His blond looking fresh from a salon contrasted unblemished skin. Maya took in his perfected handsomness, wondering how he could be ready and she still dressed in her night gown and under the covers, "Give me a minute?" It was a request in observance of the obvious but Jez refused to give courtesy, glaring at her as she took her time getting out of bed. His eyebrows shifted to steep angles, lips pierced creating wrinkles on the sides. He was angry at the fact she was not ready when he was. He was always angry about little things. "It's almost eight. Let's go," he growled through those straight, gritted teeth. Everything about him was physically ripe. Maya constantly reminded herself of his perfection during uncomfortable times. As she dressed he watched, not admiringly so, just staring, making her want to hurry. "I'll be out in the car," Jez snarled.

THE FOREST GREEN CAR

A new day promised few consistencies for Miles; fetching Justin to awaken, since he could not hear the alarm clock; passing by the baby blue house on the way in and out of the city. Which he did so now, lost in the polluting traffic, lost more in his own thoughts as he jotted them down, maintaining a glance on the road ahead. Everyday I drive by her house and my heart breaks time and time again, pricking the wounds that have not healed. Why can I not have a love that exists in the movies. I once thought I experienced true love, but to find only that I was trying to love the unlovable. And this woman that calls me boyfriend, she is hardened in her love for me. She looks to me as a way out, almost worshipping me. She is unconscious of my heart's pain in wanting an honest love. Instead, she gives sex readily, continues life uncertain, and claws for any possible way out of her own life. Coming out of his thoughts he found himself at yet another promise of the day, Keren's father's house. It was a large mansion, typical with the white picket fence. The family gardener in the lawn tending to shrubs shaped as animals trapped in unnatural motions. The circle driveway leading to the front door had two too expensive cars parked in single file. Typical rich home, with a not too typical woman stepping out the towering front door. She was beauty in carnet to Miles. Dark skin stretched across a body sculpted from years of dance lessons and athletic competitions. She had worked hard to grow her hair below her shoulders in order to braid each strand which was an accomplishment that accented her facial structure. Her eyes, always surveying for something to see until they locked on him, Miles, then their shade of blue could be fully consumed. They captivated Miles those years ago when they met. The same way they did this morning. She walked confidently, knowing how each step made her hips sway, how she attracted attention by just being. Love does that to people, makes them remember good times. Miles sent her a smile as he opened the passenger door from outside where he stood in wait. "Ma'dam Keren, your chariot awaits," Miles smirked at his inside joke, referring to his vehicle as a chariot when it was next to the two highly priced cars that her father owned. "Good morning, Miles, love," She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "My father's leaving in five minutes," the muttering in his ear caught Miles off guard. Miles rolled his eyes when he realized the offer, "Class starts in ten." "On the way then?" She stuck her tongue out and bit it trying to entice. "No thanks, I'm driving," Miles tried to hide the rising unease within him. He recalled that under all this beauty was a nymphomaniac, which in the beginning of the relationship held him in awe, but now she was only that, a nymphomaniac. Keren continued to scan Miles' body as she sat in the passenger seat. Throughout his walking around the front of the car, entering the driver's side, starting the ignition he could feel her sight crawling over him. They pulled away from the house, leaving her father at the porch, he himself preparing to leave for work. The radio had announced traffic backed up for a mile. Miles felt a pre-annoyance in realizing that Keren being late for class gave way to another of their pointless conversations to commence. "Miles, what do those kinds of lines mean?" She pointed at the solid white lines on the left side of the lane which led off the freeway. Miles fought back any possible sarcasm he could give, "Those mean the lane is going to end soon while the broken lines denote lanes that will continue on down the freeway." Keren spoke in the tone of a young girl, "I've lived a sheltered life," She frequently reproved the actuality through out their relationship. "You never cease to amaze me with how much you have been sheltered," her face projected insult, "Don't take it wrong, I just mean it's more for me to show you." Quickly she was cheerful again being fooled by Miles' recovery, "And you have all our lives to do that, don't you, dear?" She leaned across the car kissing him on the cheek sliding down to his neck. All the while Miles kept his eyes to the road. LATER THAT MORNING AT THE COLLEGE CAMPUS The vast college campus consisted of a forest of multistory buildings dotting its rolling hills. With a thirty thousand member student body it had grown nicely from its younger day of not too long ago. The modern college vast subject variety helped draw in a large percentage of the students. As well did the radio station which was anomalous to the college and had an ever growing listening audience. News, music, classic radio shows, debates, commercials; it duplicated the real world, differing only in catering to college life. Who better to produce the exclusive music showcase than Kaylee. She was apt at choosing what worked for an audience, at least she acted like it for the selection committee. Plus, she was punctual, unlike Miles, whom hosted the show. "I'll give him till the end of the commercial after this song," she stated to herself checking the time on her watch with the time on the station's mixing console. She disregarded the music heard softly around the school campus through an elaborate network of hidden speakers, fully concentrating on the parking lot. Here she stood at the entrance waiting for Miles, a den mother awaiting her cub. Why did it frustrate her so? Because he was late for his own show? No, he had back-up tapes made for moments like this. Kaylee was aware of exactly where he was. With her, that nymphomaniac girlfriend that clung to him as long as he gave her what she wanted. The fact disgusted Kaylee since he deserved better. He was probably having a good time forgetting all about the show this morning. "Men can be so narrow minded," she said aloud to no one. What was the flash of forest green moving in the parking lot that caught her eye? It indeed was Miles' car, idle with Keren exiting it then turning back to speak to the driver. MEANWHILE AT MILES' CAR IN THE PARKING LOT "So I'll see you after the show?" Keren asked more with her lust filled eyes than her voice. "After the show?" Miles drew a complete blank of the day's schedule. "Remember yesterday you promised we could," she hinted mischievous thoughts, "Today after the show." Her eyelids batted over those eyes, their lovely shade of blue entrapped his heart. How could he have forgotten a promise like that? "Of course, I didn't forget. Right after the show," he gave a facade of happiness while feeling his stomach turn. "I'm looking forward to it," clinching believability in his anticipation for both of them. "Neither can I," Keren giggled while beginning to sway away. Beauty in carnet. Twisted feelings inside Miles drained when a deeply male voice next to his ear bellowed his name. "Aren't you supposed to be on the air right now?" Miles was startled by the jolt of reality. "No, it's not for two more hours," Miles' mental planner had returned. "Don't you remember, we traded spots yesterday?" Miles' sight moved from the scruffy faced individual at the window to the tall woman standing in front of a steel door with impatient arms crossed. Even from this distance, her hazel nut eyes shouted disapproval. Miles' words squeaked, "How long has Kaylee been waiting?" "For the past twenty minutes," The man's voice carried a hint of humor. Miles' head shifted side to side checking for other cars. "Thanks Ryan," he blurted before speeding across the parking lot to Kaylee, to work. Dust kicked out from the car's wheels dirtying Ryan pants whom thought nothing of it bending over to slap the dust free. "That's what I like to see," a voice from behind teased. Slowly pivoting on his left heal while still hunched over, Ryan faced a pair of sandled feet with toe nails painted shades of green. Two legs with bone as their primary definition extended to a thin waist slightly exposed by a size too small shirt. In height, she towered above Ryan which did not account for much being he was considered short for a male. After standing upright, Ryan watched her decorated red lips form words. "How's your day going?" Her voice soft as swaying grass, music to his ears that always induced a smile. "My day is just getting better, Ilene. Better all the time." She gave a polite grin to the compliment while hugging him then hastily pulled away. Ryan would always take note of this one quirk, close or physical touching was not her thing. "Walk me to class?" She offered an arm in waiting, Ryan reached out clasping her hand instead. If there was a short coming to Ryan it was his methods of expressing affection. Ilene took notice of it as they walked hand in hand down the open hall corridor. "What are you doing this weekend?" She asked when they stopped at her classroom door. "Going to Los Angeles to meet with a few disc jockeys. What did you have in mind?" "Can I come along?" She stepped in front of him facing his chest, playing coy. Ryan adored her tactics, though they were unnecessary, "Sure you can," he answered with an increasingly warm smile. The professor in the classroom began speaking as did the school clock chime eight times signaling the hour. "See you after class?" "Yes." They said both sentences in unison. The love touch, Ilene called it. Coincidence, Ryan labeled it. BACK AT THE COLLEGE RADIO STATION "Yes, I forgot," Miles pleaded. Kaylee moaned in contempt, "You're supposed to be on the air, not talking to me." The argument stalled at the sound of broadcasting music. Their show started in the afternoon and played until sundown, many new and old styles of music could be heard on the station. It was not a number one show, but it did gather enough attention to have sponsorship keeping it paid for the next two semesters guaranteed. The position required a lot of responsibility; choosing the music, arranging the play list, knowing what to say, creating promotion ideas. All were handled by Miles in a sharp and witty manner. 'Irritably on beat', critiques once quoted in the school newspaper. Except for today, he was only on his third song and already had paused for ten seconds on air, dead silence Kaylee had fumed about since the break in sound would be a loss of listeners. He had played the wrong song twice which he corrected, stopping in the middle of the wrong song and starting the correct one. "Miles, do you want to do this today?" Miles stopped amid putting another record on the record player seeing Kaylee's glare her thoughts, "I'm just tired, I'll get into it." "You can talk to me." The record slid into its proper slot. He spun the record by hand cueing to the first musical note on the record, "I'm in love." Kaylee's eyes widened, "Love? Please don't let it be Keren?" "I don't want to say who but it's not Keren." "Then you are-" Kaylee started. "Leaving her," Miles finished. "Yes, I'm doing it today. After the show to be precise." "This isn't another one of those 'fall in love forever deals' is it?" "What do you mean?" "You have a tendency to fall in love fast and hard. Remember, that's how you and Keren started," Kaylee brought up memories in Miles by saying that. "No. I've had these feelings for a while. Guess that's why I've been off today. I was up all last night writing her a letter. Picking out the perfect words for such a perfect person." "Does she feel the same?" "She doesn't know it's me," The record started spinning flooding the room with music drowning any further conversation.

CHAPTER 2

Noise pollution from blaring radios, rustling papers, whispers of gossip, movements of bodies, monotone teachers, scratching pencils, sliding pens; all noise pollution attributing to daily stress accompanying college attendance meshed down the campus' open hallways. The pollutants were singing birds in light of Jez's voice. Maya and Jez had started a discussion about careers and were just bringing up the point twenty minutes later. "How on earth is an artist going to make it if she's always giving her work away?" Maya ignored him continuing to draw a forest landscape on a napkin. In one ear and out the other, she did not care what he had to say. Until he degraded her work. "It's not even that good," Jez belittled her when she ignored him, knowing it would get the attention he deserved. "What is the use to draw a picture that looks like the real thing." He scoffed at her drawing, his thin upper lip curling to show linear teeth. "You might as well take a photograph." "That's the point Jez," Maya went back to drawing, her lines deeper, more harsh. "Why do you want to be an artist anyway? You know most of them starve right?" Frustrated she snapped the pencil with one hand. A choice of expression that made Jez tease, "You don't want to try it," Jez's booming voice attracting the eyes of the dense cafeteria discomforting Maya. She stood up, "Let's go." "Where?" There was no sign of interest from the handsome man. "I forgot my designs at home." Jez scooped up the napkin she had been drawing on, staring at the art work with a skeptic eye. He scrunched it then dropped it on his plate where grease and water soaked the napkin smearing the image. He rose purposely brushing his body against hers, "You don't have design class today." "It's for the rave." "Oh, that," A disappointed acceptance rolled Jez's eyes. "What did you mean by that?" Maya's tension boiled. "There is nothing I'd rather do than sit around with a bunch of flower child rejects discussing how to manage a dance." Jez gave no care to his ill manner. "You don't have to go," She gave him the option. "I just need you to take me." They began walking across the quad to the parking lot, Jez leading the way. Maya watched how his entire physique coordinated together in moving that massive body of his. Each step firm sending slight movement to the upper body. In the car, he carried the argument with himself, speaking in bits of sentences. He stopped when Maya interjected, "What's wrong now? All I asked was for you take me the pub?" "That's all you ever do. Ask, ask, ask. Are you ever going to be independent of me? Perhaps get a job?" He was fed up with Maya's perduring request. "I only ask because you have the ability to. I don't demand it from you. I don't need you." They had left the campus behind, now driving the freeway. "What do you think I am? Like your mom?" She emotionally jabbed him with that. Jez's mother, after her divorce, had lost all hope in herself and clung to Jez, draining him of money and social life until he committed her. His hand shot from the steering wheel slapping Maya's right cheek and part of her lip. The shock of the blow stung more than the physical pain. "Don't bring my mom into this, Maya," It was a command from the dawn of their relationship that Maya still had to learn to follow. "Sorry, that was my fault," She covered her eyes, hiding any pain that projected, pondering her actions in silence for the remainder of the trip home, trying desperately to justify what happened. DOWN THE COLLEGE HALLWAYS Classroom behavior changes throughout the career of education. At first it is governed by scheduled bells and elders telling you what to do next. Then, towards the end, no bells ring to dictate learning's end, you leave when you feel or when the professor leaves. It seems the only thing that does not change are the behaviors of the people. Keren strolled down the open hallway. Her books propped slant against her slender hips accenting her upper figure. She appreciated attention, how it made Miles feel that much more unique. Was that not what love was for, to lift up the other on a pedestal, make them feel they are the only one? She prayed if only to return half what Miles did for her. The hall ended leading straight to the studio door, where Miles stood awaiting her with a smile. How handsome he looked on this hazed day. His skin wrinkled across his face as his smile widened at first sight of her. He was unique in attire and stance with shoulder length dark brown hair braided into one braid that started from his forehead dangling above the buttocks. That was his attraction for her, individualism. "How are you doing?" Keren was always curious to how he felt, if she could cure his ailments in any way fit. Miles' stomach turned after the first word of the question asked everyday in the same tone of voice, the identical programmed manner. And in the same manner, Miles stepped forward to meet her trot greeting her with open arms. Keren's body dwarfed in comparison to his, even more so as his arms wrapped around her torso. She raised on her tip toes to grab his ear lobe with her teeth. "Let's go to my house," Keren importanate question raised Miles' blood pressure. Keren was unaware to Miles' eyes rolling for they were still cheek to cheek. Kaylee stood at the studio doorway, staring at the loving couple. "Hi Kaylee," Keren greeted the producer. "Hello, Keren," Kaylee's expression disguised her resentment of Miles' unescapableness. The two were walking away when Kaylee yelled, "Don't forget to be," she emphasized, "Punctual." The departing couple gave no recrudesce to Kaylee, each too absorbed in the other. Once at the car, Miles opened the passenger door for Keren stepping aside. "Always my gentleman," she gave him her lust filled eyes as he shut the door and walked to the driver side. As soon as he sat in the driver's seat and proceeded to put his seat belt on, she began to slide over to his lap. His plan was not going to be easily executed. Miles stopped by placing a hand on her raised rump, "Please remain seated with your seat belt fully fastened until and after take off." She giggled at his impression of an airline steward. Obeying she said, "I just love you so much Miles. I can't wait to get home," A hint of desperation was present in her voice. "You mean when we get to your father's house," Miles jeered as they drove away from the parking lot. "You're right, dear," Keren fondly stated their future plans, "Our home will be a big house in the woods somewhere. Where it will be just the two of us," She leaned over resting her head on his shoulder, "You'd like that wouldn't you?" Miles kept his eyes on the road, on the rear view mirrors, on highway signs, anywhere but looking at her. "I'd enjoy that quite often, wouldn't I?" He tried to concentrate else where but the freeway was clear containing no obvious reason to look away. The entire trip he had not once seen her, her skin, her body, her eyes. He was determined to fight the hormonal rage within him. Victory is close at hand, just a moment more and she will be gone for the day. "I love you," Keren's sincerity pushed that victory far from reach. He turned to face her. Her skin hypnotized forcing him to follow it up to her eyes of light blue, "I love you, Miles." Her breathy voice revealing seduction. Miles had not brought the car to a full halt when Keren opened the door and stepped out, rushing to the oversized front door. By the time Miles shut his car door she was inside leaving behind a shoe on the welcome mat. "Hide and go seek," Miles uttered as he approached the ajar door. The door slowly creaked as he pushed his way inside, finding two pairs of socks and the other shoe lain in the beginnings of a garment trail leading to a hall on his right. Keren was constantly innovative in games of this matter inticing Miles to keep his promise from yesterday. Following the trail of clothes lead him down another hallway and to a door, again ajar. He had seen this room many times, her father's room. Seeing her on the bed brought the old promise he had made to himself of never disregarding a parent's respect. Slowly pushing the door wide open, he found Keren kneeling on the bed, a sheer night gown draped across her naked body which could clearly be seen from the sunlight pouring through two windows at the opposite corner of the room. Her arms awaiting him brought Miles to demand, "Not in this room." A promise he had given himself long ago never to defile her father's room. She quickly obliged springing from the bed, running past him, down the hallway and into her room where she leaned in the doorway seductively curving her body, "I love you." Miles grabbed her hands, twirling her as a ballerina then waltzed to the bed. He never enjoyed being with Keren, not even at times like this. Here, his hormones got the best of him forcing him to give into her taunting. Foreplay's sole purpose was to bring Miles into submission of Keren's wants. Emotionless, they would travel each other's body. Like two animals whom devoured sex. That's what we are. We are intertwined not as lovers but as addicts. We fiend for pleasure, not necessarily our own pleasure but pleasure itself. I behold those blue eyes of hers, unable to fathom the dreams they concoct. And they are only dreams of lovers, for we do not have a reciprocating love. Sex is all she needs from me, and sex is all she offers me. Miles often felt disgusted after sex, as he did now, sitting in bed with her next to him. The feeling would leave when her light blue eyes would be in his sight and she would softly state, sounding as genuine as any previous moment, "I love you." "And I love you," his automatic response. "I can't wait till we can live in our own house and do this all the time." Keren envisioned. "Do what? Have sex?" Miles took her eyes out of his vision, retaining the strength to be bold. "And hold each other after." She curled up in his lap, "You make everything safe, Miles. We are a movie couple." "Try to understand a movie is just that, a movie." Miles quipped at Keren. "You can't believe that what the movie makes you dream can possibly come true. You have to stop dreaming and see reality, Keren." Keren looked underneath the covers, pursuing another arousal "What did you say, dear?" Miles was about to tell her everything, how he felt, the need to separate, but an interruption came by a beep from his wrist watch. Keren brought her light blue eyes level with his, "What's that for?" Miles' mental planner screamed, "I forgot Justin." COLLEGE CORNER CITY BUS STOP "Grant me patience, Lord," Justin prayed. Standing on the corner where a number of peers awaiting their own rides to their own destinations. Justin scanned the group hoping to find a familiar face to help pass the time he had to still wait for Miles to arrive. "Maya, hi," Justin extended a friendly hand, Maya took it, returning the greeting, "How are you doing this day?" Justin held up a note pad with his question. In Maya's hand was folded paper which she seemed to caress when Justin asked. She merely waved hello, turning away when he began to write more. Maya was proving to be a poor choice to talk to as she turned away unfolding and reading the latest letter from her admirer with soundless movements of her lips which Justin read easily, eavesdropping on her secret. "Dear, Maya, I saw you last night, in the music, each whispered note. In the dancer's gracefully moving. You were in the audience's awe struck eyes. We never had the chance to talk on a personal level yet every word you've said replays in my mind in every dream, every thought. I feel I'm reaching a level of obsession for you. Could it be the level the love reaches?" It was not the quality of the words that entranced Maya to seek this admirer, it was the honest attempt at the expression. She could not help but to be taken away from the crowded sidewalk to this world of make believe. "That's love," Justin's last written words shook her back to reality. Love? Was this love? Had she never experienced love before? I want to be in love, I want to fall in love, Maya's mind screamed. Her lips sputtered, "What?" She was dazed by the merge of reality and her thoughts. Justin knew nothing of what she was thinking and how could he? He was devoted to celabousy and God. He could not possibly comprehend her feelings, he would probably damn her for them so what was the use of discussing it? Before Justin commenced another written word, Miles' car pulled along side the curb. "Hi, Maya," Miles said leaning over to open the passenger door. "Miles," her voice was excited, "Are we still meeting tonight?" "Of course, at the pub, tonight?" She smiled melting any problems Miles had in mind.

CHAPTER 3

Often times, at college, pseudo families are created out of friendships. This is to help release stress of having to develop a social life farther than you want to. Ryan and Ilene were the anchors of this family tonight, the two insured enough seating where ever the group's destination was to be. That is what brought them to the pub this evening. Close enough to campus so as for everyone to have access yet still unknown enough to be empty at this time of night. Upon entering, Ryan reserved two sets of tables for when the rest would arrive. He and Ilene both sat together facing the entrance waiting because as rules for big families are, nothing ever starts on time. "Ilene?" She turned to Ryan with a beer foam mustache. Ryan laughed through his question, "What is love really made of?" He queered ever so child like. "It's you, dear. You," Ilene wiped Ryan's beer foam mustache clean with a kiss. "Well, I mean in general, how would you explain it to someone?" Ryan's demeanor was stern. She took another swig of beer, "It's shared between two people because they care for each other beyond reasoning." Ryan's face wrinkled in dismay, "I think it's deeper than that." "Maybe deeper than this beer," she sipped, "What made you ask?" "I've been thinking for awhile and I think it's time for us to," he paused trying to attract her full attention from the beer, "make the deeper commitment." Ilene chuckled at Ryan's speculation, "Excuse me. Are we still in high school?" A sympathetic hand rested on his forearm. "You know how I feel about that, sweetie," a polite refusal would end this round. The conversation concluded as the rest of the family arrived. Filing in group by couples. Jez and Maya, Justin and Kaylee. Greetings abound, they ordered drinks and appetizers before settling. Miles and Keren arrived after the drinks. Ryan began this Entertainment Club meeting, "Anyone have any ideas?" The question in reference to the plans for the last dance of the year was open to anyone. "How about a love theme?" Miles threw out the question. Ryan glanced to Ilene, "What do you want to do with it?" Kaylee's eyes seemed to have lit up with the ideas in her mind, "It can be all forms of love." "And just what is love?" Ryan looked back at Ilene again. Ilene sensed what he inferred and repeated. "Love is something shared between two people." "Exactly what I think dear, two people sharing something," Ryan retorted. "Not 'something' tangible," Kaylee interjected. "You see, Ryan," Ilene pointed out her proven point, "Not everyone has to have sex to prove they are in love," Ilene's voice had changed to spite. Ryan turned a weary eye to Miles for support. It was Jez who spoke, "Is it not the woman's duty to be submissive?" "Only in marriage and even then it has its limits," Justin interjected through aide of Miles' translation. "Exactly and we're getting married any way, right?" Ryan addressed Ilene. Ilene found support when Keren interjected, "It's not love if you have to beg for it." She gave a blissful roll of her eyes to Miles. Kaylee saw the exchanged look between the two blurting to Miles, "I thought you broke up with her." Before Keren could laugh at the untruth in Kaylee 's statement, Miles barked, "Kaylee!" "What?" Kaylee's head shook, "You are not going to then?" "Miles?" Keren's eyes were as the setting sun. "Keren, I," Miles could feel her desperation for the truth claw at him. His words were lost as were everyone's. Keren's jaw had dropped shaking tears free to stream down her cheeks. A silent collapse cried from her eyes bringing Miles to sit back down. This must be some joke, a cruelly twisted prank on me. Words like that are not just said without reason. Keren pondered. She kept staring at her lover, searching for a sign of rethinking, an apology, something to end this terror of losing. Miles only sat there shifting his eyes to everyone around the room avoiding Keren. "Take me home," Keren gathered her purse and coat and waited for Miles to follow, which he did. The table drew silent with the two missing. Everyone exchanging glances to one another asking the awkward question of 'what to do?' "I guess he didn't tell her," Kaylee reasoned. "Why do you say things like that?" Justin handed the question to Kaylee. "We'll have to try this again, fellas, really," Jez's sarcasm could only be detected by Maya. "We must be leaving," He took Maya's hand, almost pulling her off the ground when he was only supposed to help her stand. "Good theme though," his undetectable sarcasm was creeping to the surface going no further as Maya and Jez left. Ilene folded her napkin, "I'll be walking home, get the check, please?" Ryan had no time to respond, she stormed out of the pub, not looking back once. He dropped a single bill on the table in chase. And then there were two. God says it is good to forgive. Justin walked to Kaylee extending a hand. "I shoot my mouth off sometimes, don't I?" Kaylee admitted Justin nodded in agreance while removing her chair as she stood. "Miles was your only ride home," Kaylee failed to see the oversight of Justin's situation, "But you live down the street." He pointed outside where sheets of rain slapped the window. "Odd how storms pop around here," Kaylee's observation was always inappropriate. COLLEGE GIRL'S DORMITORY Being steps away from Ilene's dormitory was the perfect opportunity to leave, but rain pelting every step gave Ilene reason to stay. If it were not for the rain, she would have bolted out of the car leaving this hormonal freak behind. In the two minute drive home, he begged seven times to have his cravings met. Ryan went as far to speak of their friends, how sex did not ruin their relationships, that 'everyone else is doing it'. Ilene quipped. "I thought we were above that. We are supposed to be something wholesome. We are not supposed to be like everyone else." "Of course we're not, that's why my intentions are different. I want to express my love for you in the deepest way I know how. Why can't you understand that?" Ilene could see growing frustration on his face, how he was fighting the urge not to pout. "Ryan, dear, what you're trying to prove is honorable. It's one of the things I like about us," she rubbed his cheek soothing his mind with soft skin against five o'clock shadow. "We can be open about any and everything. And we are," she kissed his cheek then promptly pulled away preparing to open the door, "I'm just not ready, Ryan, because it is not what our relationship is about." Ryan began to pout no longer refraining the need of maturity, "It's difficult for me. I'm a guy with needs." "Right. Whether they are met now or later, it will happen. But I want to be able to tell our children that we waited," Ilene imitated his puppy eyes, "I love you, Ryan." "I know," he murmured. "Now, I want to ask you something serious," she changed subject holding no disregard for his craving. "I have been asked to work as a producer for a record company in England," She blurted the statement in one breath the words almost lost in excitement. Lightening struck in the distance startling the two. "England?" he yelled over the thunder that followed. "I want you to come with me, Ryan," Ilene smiled. "I can't leave," the rain's shadow on his face gave a sense of tears, "The dance is in a few months. I'm going to graduate. You are going to graduate," Ryan compiled a valid list. Ilene gently laughed, "I don't leave until this summer, dear." Ryan shook his head. "Just think about it," she opened the door, water dripping inside soaked her as she stood on the curb. The passenger door slammed as she ran leaving Ryan to watch her enter the building, leaving him to think alone. KEREN'S FATHER'S HOUSE "I don't get it," Keren was in her doorway repeating the same phrase all the way to her father's mansion. She had not allowed Miles to speak a word since the pub until she appeared to run out of breath, "I don't get it." Now with a chance to speak Miles nervously shook staring at her, his mind trying to be any place but here. In his mind's absence, his body responded, "What don't you get?" "Us," she barked. "What about us?" His mind was on the way back hearing what his body had said. "You Miles. I believed in you, I left everything for you," Keren's hands clasped his gripping tight enough to stop blood flow, "I love you, Miles." Fear of what to say next trembled Miles, his words still a million miles away. "Miles tell me," she awaited his words, "Tell me anything," she begged. Miles' words finally arrived home ceasing the shaking impulse. "When is the proper time to say I don't love you anymore?" Inside, each felt pain of reality making their innards react as if being shot by a bullet. Outside, they both feigned acceptance to the situation now presented. Miles hung his head, hiding any emotion that may spring to his face. He expected her to sob, the touch to his left shoulder, which she did all of, but he did not expect her to say anything. She was never good at controlling her emotions enough to speak. 'Never' never happens. "Leave then," her voice was not trembling nor slurred by heartache. Keren spoke with comprehension, "I'm letting you be free my love." Miles tried to stop her from continuing to speak. He could see her trying to hold on by calling him 'my love'. She must not understand the situation. Miles mentally noted. But she did. "I'm still going to call you my love because I love you. I always will, no matter what," He tried to move his hands to her lips to cease her attempt. "Please don't say anything else. Let me believe my lie of you still loving me. It's all I have." Keren stepped inside her father's home, keeping her back towards the world as she slowly shut the door on Miles. He turned from the house, took a deep sigh of relief, inhaling the damp night air. From this venue of town, he looked down on the storm that had passed through moments before they had arrived. Clear dark skies stretched around termoiled clouds revealing the storm's insignificance. Swirling vapors dropped buckets for a short ten minutes then dissipated, clearing the spansive view of trickling city lights. Miles remained standing next to his forest green car, transfixed on the disappearing storm below and the one brewing inside himself. Was this the proper time?

THE BABY BLUE HOUSE

A perfect physical representation of a man. Muscles enlarged due to years of extensive weight training. A height that brought her to his shoulders where she could cuddle into. He was a beautiful man she would notice at uncomfortable moments like this. On the trip home no words were spoken. Jez continued joking to himself occasionally chuckling, yet never sharing an entire thought. Until now, on the porch to their baby blue home, "Why do you even bother with those people?" She was glad not to have heard the jokes, "They're my friends, Jez." "They are stupid," degradation was the soul intent of Jez. "They are my friends," Maya defended. She had opened the front door and was already inside taking off her coat, "What makes them stupid to you?" Jez was making his way down the hall when he stopped, "Need I say it," a pause as if that was sufficient an answer. "What?" Maya wanted a better form of communication. "Because they don't get along. They never seem to. Always fussing over the little stuff," he waved in disgust. "What ever you say," she walked passed him entering the bathroom at the end of the hall, slamming the door shut. Jez stood at the other end of the hall in a stooper from Maya's vent of emotion. Jez took a seat in the master bedroom while her shower began. With Maya occupied in the shower he entertained himself with a baseball that he had caught at a world series game. He played toss with himself, throwing the ball up in the air and catching it before it would hit his face. This game of self-catch carried for the minutes it took Maya to come out of the shower. In his peripheral vision she was standing at the bedroom door, wrapped in a towel, body still wet, attractive as always. Jez was distracted by her as the ball hurled into the air crashing down on his face, jarring him from his vision of beauty. The ball rolled off his chest and under the bed where Jez proceeded to chase after it. At first, Keren contained laughing at how Jez was hunched over trying desperately to reach the ball. Then came the ball's thud against something thin and hollow, any further laughter dropped back into her diaphragm. Why do I only notice the beauty of Jez at times like this? "What's this?" He was referring to a shoe box in his hands. "Personal stuff," Maya wanted to eat her words knowing the torture they caused. "Personal?" The lid was flipped free revealing the contents inside, folded papers hiding secret words. Jez grabbed one and threw the box aside, scattering every letter across the floor, "I suppose you don't want me to read it then?" Before Maya could respond in any way, he had opened the letter, reading it aloud, "Dearest Maya, with these hands, I would hold your face to express affection," his free hand kept her at a distance, "Have you ever experienced the tingle of a lover caressing your face as you kiss?" He paused giving a blank expression to Maya, "It is an experience wouldn't you agree? The warm, soft love that is felt between the contact of skins," Jez was no longer looking at Maya instead he read more, his voice booming each word, "With these hands, I could hold your hands when you need. Have you needed someone to, without question, take your hand, to assure you are not alone?" Jez dropped the first page, continuing to read, "With these hands I could hold you and tell you how much I love you with their touch," Jez glared at Maya. She stood her ground firm and recited the last two lines of the page, "As much as we need love to be expressed verbally, we should be able to receive it physically. By touch, we should feel and know that it is love." Jez dropped the last page. The anger in his face penetrated Maya's defensive stance, "Who wrote that to you?" "Does it matter?" Maya's voice struggled to remain defiant. "Who?" Jez demanded. "I don't know, it's just a secret admirer," Her vocal chords began to flutter in fear. "An admirer?" Maya nodded a silent answer to Jez's stirring anger. "An admirer wrote all these and you kept them?" "Yes," It was more breath than words. "And you don't know who he is? You have never talked to him?" Jez slowly approached, arms spread in sinister contortions. "That's what a secret admirer is, Jez. A secret." There was rage boiling with in Jez, de-emphasizing his physique to her. "And so I might assume then you intended on persuing this person?" "No, I just kept the letters because of how they made me feel," Maya tried to protect her secrets but apprehension began to weaken her. "How you feel?" He stepped toward her, clenched her arms tight, "Who is it Maya?" and violently shook her. "I don't know," she stuttered, terror chattering her teeth. "You don't keep stuff like this unless it means something else. Have you been screwing him?" He pushed her to the ground barking the question as she crumpled. "No!" She screamed, "I don't know who it is." Jez's left hand drew back and crashed into Maya's jaw, twisting her down to lie on her stomach. "Is it one of your friends? Is it?" Jez was maneuvering himself to stand above Maya's head. Time froze. Her heart's racing beat slowed. Instincts cried for action, her body knew he would strike again. But Jez was a body builder, a man stronger than most men, filled with adrenaline charged rage. He moved behind her in preparation for another blow. Maya's face gave a brief muted scream that morphed into a champion's smile. There, underneath the chair she faced, in clear view was a wooden baseball bat. She reached for it. Jez grabbed her shoulder in order to roll her over, one arm still coiled to punch. He did not notice her arm under the chair, nor her sobbing, he only wanted to know the truth. He pulled her to face him. She was expressionless as the bat swung smashing against Jez's skull throwing him aside landing face first on the floor. Time returned to normal when Maya cautiously crawled to Jez whom lay sprawled on the floor obviously unconscious. Maya stood up and walked down the hall to the front door. She stopped when trying to open the door realizing the bat was still in her hand, her knuckles white as her towel. She marched to the bedroom with the sole purpose to get dressed. There was no need to run, to hide, no reason to fear the giants awakening because Maya would do it again if necessary. She threw the bat on the bed, dropped her towel and opened the closet door. Maya took her time getting dressed, at first watching Jez constantly but after each garment on her body bravery grew averting her eyes from the bully on the hardwood floor down the hall. Fully dressed, she stepped outside the room into the hallway and proceeded to the front door, not once checking behind, not caring if Jez awoke or not. It had stopped raining leaving puddles and dew that sparkled reflection of the night sky. Lamp posts casting hazy yellow light through swirling mist. The world was withdrawn, almost as if it, too, were shocked at what she had accomplished. Maya paused at the end of the yard, feeling the chill of the night bite through her clothes. IN THE FOREST GREEN CAR Having left Keren's house an hour ago, Miles carried out the nightly ritual of passing Maya's baby blue home despite it being ten miles out of the way. Everyday he would drive by her house and his heart would break each time. Why could he not have a love like the one that exists in the movies? Where the woman loves the man because he loves her, where the casting puts together the perfect couple. If she would love him, if he had the courage to say anything to her untold romance would begin. If only to catch a glimpse of her or have an excuse to see her from afar. And tonight was no different than any other night. He would drive by just for the nostalgia of it, after all things never change. Again, Miles would learn 'never' never happens. Maya waved at the car hoping she was right in guessing it was Miles. The car pulled parallel to the curb. The passenger door opened followed by Miles' questioning voice, "Maya?" Maya hurriedly dropped into the passenger seat locking the door behind her, "Miles, you want to get a cup of coffee?" "Actually I was headed home," he dazed away from her, "I had a rough night with Keren." Maya nodded understanding. She was about to exit when she looked up at the house, "We don't have to go any where. We could drink the coffee at your house," a now tear drenched face pleaded with Miles, "You have coffee don't you?"

CHAPTER 4

The drive to Los Angeles took only one hour along the Pacific Coast Highway. The terrain drastically changed every mile from steep cliffs dropping into the ocean to high rise office buildings filling the sky. Cars representing all levels of society racing past one another only to halt at quick changing traffic congestion streaming across this vast man-made landscape. Among the scenic chaos drove Ryan and Ilene. Each dressed in an identical three piece suit. Minutes before taking the trip, Ryan purchased their clothes, wanting to look stylishly alike to impress the people they were to meet today. After all it was not everyday they met the top underground disc jockeys in the nation. Ryan had received word they were all playing at a rave party in Los Angeles this weekend. What better to have for the dance than the best? Ryan always tried to boost his producing capability even if it was to himself. Music blaring from Ryan's car or the busy world of racing cars, vulgar shouts, and constant honking outside supplied reason not to speak during the trip until they were minutes away from their destination. "These are professional people with professional time so let me do the talking," Ryan's nerves sped up his speech. Ilene physically felt his anxiety by his hand shaking as he touched her cheek. "Just stay with me," he reassured that the intent was not to be bossy towards her.Parking in front of a large rundown warehouse, they walked through the packed lot towards another indiscreet, plain red brick building beyond the row of dilapidated warehouses. Flashing colored lights accompanied by loudly thumping music poured out the cracked windows. Two cargo doors were rolled open gave sight to a throng of dancing people. Ilene saw it as an opportunity to dance. Ryan commented on how well produced the event was. Mingling through the crowd, Ilene and Ryan approached the DJ booth which was raised above everyone's reach. Showing his security pass they were allowed to climb a ladder ending two stories above the dance floor. At the top five men sat on a bench behind the disc jockey booth. The music was not as loud up here, a faint rhythm felt more than heard. "I'm Ryan. I trust you guys received my message," his confidence reached the edges of pompous. There was a brief discussion among the men. The man closest to Ryan responded, "Sure we did, Ryan," he struggled the name as if he could barely recall it, "We're not interested." "What's it going to take then?" Ryan tried to remain calm but only managed a scowl. "Nothing. We've heard of your dance productions and they haven't been too great," his speech seemed rehearsed. "But it's the last dance of our school. It's going to be big," Ryan swung his arms over the crowd, "Bigger than this." No consideration was given, "It's a dance that you're having, not this. You don't have the skills to produce this. I know because I produced this," the man was stern in his rejection. Ryan said his thanks for their time and descended the ladder before Ilene could realize his leaving. the music seemed more deafening to Ryan now, the colored lights flashed out of synchronization with the repetitive music. The audience appeared lost in a bored trance, no longer feeling the tempo. Ryan's eyes fixed on the open bay doors avoiding any contact in the over crowded dance floor. Ilene clasped his coat tails as to not fall behind. The two dark brown seals glided through the sea of mindless sharks, unaffected by the happening around them which was having fun in an environment one nameless person told Ryan he could not create. Outside, Ilene held his hand as they walked, "You can do without them." Ryan gave a half smile to her, "Sure, I'll just have Miles play all night long. That ought to get the crowd jumping," again he did not intend spite for Ilene. Ilene understood his mood deciding not to say anything the entire trip home. She felt sympathetic for Ryan having tried so desperately to make the dance happen and losing so much in the process. What must be going through his mind? Did he realize how much this event consumed him? Did he care how it tore at his friends' emotions to give up their precious time for him? Did he appreciate how she stood by him all this time? Was he thinking of leaving with her to England now more than ever? As they pulled in front of her dorm her questions were answered 'no' when he reached across her shoulders asking, "Can I stay over?" The pressure of his arm across her shoulders gave hint to hidden urges. "No, Ryan, not tonight," Ilene apologized. With home now twelve steps away, Ilene decided to stay in the car listening to Ryan ramble on about why not , what's wrong with it, and whatever reason he could think of for them to have sex. She could see him speak, her brain refused to decipher the sound vibrations resonating from his throat. Finally a break in his repetitive pattern gave her a chance to rebuttal the argument. Before opening her lips, her cognitive mind replayed the last sentence he said, 'look me in the eyes and truthfully say you love me.' "You want me to say I love you. You have heard me say it over and over," she paused noticing those bewildered brown eyes , "I can say anything to you. I could do anything you desire as a testimony of my love for you. But if smiling at the very thought of me, if waiting to see me after every blink, if this and everything that I believe our love to be is not sufficient, then Ryan, maybe it is you that does not love me?" "When I look at Miles and see all that he has gone through. When I think of Kaylee and how she has never found the right man. When I think of Maya and Jez and how they are. I think if this wasn't love, if that wasn't love, if what they had was not love, then we must be love," Ryan felt accomplished with the argument. "You're figuring our love on a process of elimination?" Ilene's hand moved towards the handle, pushing it until the door popped from its rubber seal. Ryan was puzzled by her frankness, "I just want to show you how much I love you." "There are a lot better ways to do that." "Like what?" Ryan pouted. Ilene bent into the doorway, fed up with this beggar, "Think of something." Ryan drew back stunned by the imposed threat. She opened the door, "And I know what you're thinking and its answer is no. Even if you did everything. Even if you got down on one knee and proposed right now," she was at the sidewalk looking back at Ryan, "you're not going to get it until we are married." "Maybe I don't want it!" He slammed the door shut from inside and sped away into the night. INSIDE THE BABY BLUE HOUSE Had she expected Jez to wait all this time? Of course not. It just came as a surprise to Maya to find her baby blue house empty. Everything was gone; his furniture, her curtains, his couch, her throw pillows, his weight set, her paints and canvases all vanished without a trace. Not even imprints on the carpet remained, every remnant of her residency here has been erased. But she lived here once yet everything that identified her personality, that held her roots had been torn away. Maya platooned from room to room, hopelessly searching for any remnants. Even the walls had been cleansed of her artistic doodles. What kind of man scrubs the walls? After patrolling the house, she decided nothing of her's was left inside, "Maybe there's something outback," She said looking out the bay window. Indeed, in the middle of the yard was a pile of ashes. Maya stopped at the doorway, contemplating what he may have done. "Could he?" She asked herself as she approached the pile. Protruding from underneath the ashes was a strip of canvas that had survived the flames. Jez had burned everything that was hers. Clothes, paintings, pictures, music, letters, her curtains. Luckily, they had nothing that was their's or else Jez might have felt sorrow in losing something. Instead, Maya was the hurt one, grieving over the ashes. Miles' hand touching her shoulder startled her, "Are you alright?" "Have you ever wanted to just be loved? For no motive, you are given unconditional love?" Miles dare not answer 'yes' aloud. She sifted the ashes between her fingers discovering a firmness that Maya dug free. A slightly damaged shoe box survived the fire. "It doesn't matter anymore, I can do fine without him, right?" Each admiring letter was crumbled but placed back in the box. "Exactly," Miles peeked at the familiar hand writing Maya delicately held. Maya looked up into Miles' eyes, holding the lid shut tight. He remained captivated by her eyes not noticing her stand until she kissed his forehead. "What was that for?" His heart wanted to explain each letter. "Because you're good," her honesty exhilarated his heart. Miles bashfully turned towards the back fence separating the yard from the college parking lot. "What makes you say that?" Is it my words? Do they touch you? Miles wanted to scream, to touch her, to kiss her. "You just are," Maya placed her soft, warm hands against his cheek. "It never hurts to help," Miles tried to lift her spirits. "I'm ready to leave if you are." Maya stepped towards the front of the house. Everyone on the planet, breathes, dies, has good times and bad, and receives a form of love. When Miles sees Maya at any given moment he becomes like no other on earth. His breathing stops, life is eternity, time is irrelevant, and he wishes to only give his every nuance of love to her. Walking behind her, an arm's length away, he wishes to express these feelings for her, this love he possess. Shyness holds Miles at bay as they walk through that baby blue house and out to the car. Cherish is what binds Miles' mouth as they drive leaving what world Maya once had. Friendship is how he extends his hand to help her out of the car once they reached Miles' home. Dreaming of what may come from today's events kept his love for Maya aglow as they neared the porch. The emotions of the day slipped away when Miles opened the front door to find Keren, stark naked in the middle of the room sitting on a chair facing them. Seconds pass, dragging all three through the appalling ordeal. Not a movement was made nor a word spoken. Awkwardness filling the space between them. "Keren?" Miles had to ask, thinking he might have the wrong house or be mistaken of who Keren was. Maya lingered, not knowing how to react. "Hi, Keren," Maya tried to grin but the greeting and her lips were not working in her favor. "Is this who you left me for?" Keren wrapped herself in Miles' robe that had been laying over the back of the chair. She never once showed embarrassment, "You let her move in with you? You never would let me move in with you," tears fell down Keren's thin cheeks making Miles more unsure what to do. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here, I don't belong here anymore," She covered her face and stomped outside. "What just happened?" Maya asked. A baffled Miles' explained, "I don't know." OUTSKIRTS OF DOWNTOWN To belong to someone. Two years ago that phrase held no meaning for Keren. Two years ago, life for her was 180 degrees. She knew not of love from one person, of how bliss monogamy could be. Two years ago, she did not know a man named Miles. Changes came about when they first met. In order to have won Miles' heart, she had to be different. A little more refined, less extreme, what ever it took, Miles had to be her's. In doing all it took, she became a better person, abandoning the bleak outlook she held for life. All went well except she was alone now, standing at the abandoned house's door step. Where she once spent many evenings while her father was gone on business. Here she had done anything and everything in those nights. Only now, it was all two years ago, and things change, especially when you abandon them. The neighborhood was the same desolate row of homes categorized as crack houses, slut holes, bum centrals. The entire block was a bottomed out construction company's mistake. Nothing had been finished and so only the dregs of society stayed around. These large scale family homes were still being lived in as was evident by flickering candle light glowing in scarcely spotted window sills. Keren knock on the rackety old door pushed it open. Silence inside the hardly lit room where two men and one woman sitting in half circle, their faces hidden in darkness shadowed their identity until a familiar voice spoke to Keren. "The circle is now complete, Keren," The only woman in the room spoke with a voice damaged from too much smoking. Maybe, not everything changes. Devon sat to the right of Keren, the white smoke rising from the cigarette that dangled from her full lips. Their experimentation together let Keren know she was not a lesbian, but at least she had done it, something Miles would never have let her try. Next to Devon was Merle with his young face and blue eyes just staring at her as he held out a neatly rolled paper filled with marijuana, something else Miles did not let Keren continue. Marcus sat on a crate on the opposite side of the room, looking lanky and pale as usual. "Still a virgin?" Keren's voice cracked after finally being used since the hours walk from Miles' home. Marcus nodded in acknowledgment of his condition. "Are you still going to keep your promise?" He asked with a lack of sleep slur. "I always do," there was an ease in Keren's heart as she said it in relying that at least these people could not change. Devon kicked a bean bag chair out for her to sit on, "Have a seat, we have a lot of catching up to do." Keren sat down, putting the tightly wrapped marijuana to her lips, "Where should I start?" Smoke danced in front of her face. "How about how lover boy took you away from us," Marcus wanted to hear this answer for a long time. "Oh that. I thought I was in love. I thought I knew what love was," she inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs allowing the drug to take its course, "I thought he could give me everything?" She leaned against Devon's shoulder staring at the smoke streaming from their mouths, "But I don't know. And I won't know because love does not exist. It is a fictional element that people conjured to use as an excuse to have sex." Marcus took a seat on the floor in front of her breathing in exhaled smoke, "I love to hear you talk." "It's nice to see you," Merle mumbled as he moved to the back of the room, another drug having its way with him. Marcus placed one hand on her left knee, "It's nice that you still agree that sex is something that animals share with humans so it cannot be an expression of love. It is a method of nature." Keren could not comprehend how Marcus, being younger than herself, had such wisdom, "You always understood where I am coming from, Marcus, and I respect you for that. With Miles I thought I had love. I felt my life was supposed to be different from then on," She took another deep breath of smoke, "The only difference that came was him controlling my life. Telling me I couldn't drink this, smoke that. That I should stop hanging around people like you guys. He even made me stop being out so late." "What was he, your dad?" Devon joked. How dare you speak of Miles that way. Keren wanted to slap her with all her might. Instead Keren masked this rage of emotion with laughter, "So you're saying I screwed my dad?" Uncontrolled laughter erupted from everyone in the room. "He wanted to show he cared," hushed words that echoed more in Keren's head than out of her mouth lost in the laughter. Marcus took another whiff of smoke that now filled the air, "Instead of having sex with you to show he cared, he tried to change your life for the quote 'better'?" Devon, patted Keren's head on her shoulder, "So did you two do it everyday?" Keren rolled her eyes, "Every other day. A guy need his rest." The laughs roared again as did Keren hide her true thoughts. Not at all, we made love when we felt it was right. I enjoyed being around him, I loved him, I knew what love was. My failure was not knowing how to handle it because my only knowledge of love was what you, my friends, taught me. I am ruined because of you three friends. No one in the room heard Keren's thoughts, she would not let them have the truth. Her protective outer shell spoke, giving them what they wanted to hear. "Keren?" She gave Merle attention, "Do you have any poems? I'd really love to hear one." She grinned at the request. Her poetry was something Miles over looked. Keren had a gift with words. "It just happens I do," the paper was unfolded and the marijuana extinguished as Keren read, "Friends that you have sworn to keep in touch Lovers you said forever to How I loved you How you loved me What we shared What we kept Hidden demons You wish them buried and forgotten But you cannot They are as the phoenix forever uprising You will run and run from these hidden demons Run and run from me." LOCAL NIGHTCLUB Miles practiced his craft of music disc jockey on weekends at local dance clubs. Tonight, gossip traveled the city, raising Miles' popularity and filling this weekend's club to capacity. After playing for two hours, he noticed Kaylee and Maya through the throng. They sat together at an elevated table, waving hello to Miles. "You can't run from it, Maya," Kaylee reasoned. "From what?" "Love, my friend, love," Kaylee was transfixed on Miles, whom was across the large dance hall playing record after record that kept the packed floor dancing. "You want to tell me about it?" Maya wanted to learn Kaylee's knowledge of love. "When you were with Jez, what did you feel when you heard his name?" The question conjured memories of his beauty and arrogance. "I cringed." "That was probably a good indicator to leave," Kaylee spoke in a 'I-told-you-so' manner. "What do you mean?" "A name is simply a sound we designate for a person, place, or thing. It's a simple way to identify something for everyone to comprehend. You say 'table' and everyone understands what you are talking about. And by saying someone's name, like your lover's, the name brings out emotion that you need experience to grasp. By mentioning their name, you turn your head about searching for them." "Miles," Maya tested Kaylee's theory. Immediately Kaylee looked for him, seeing he was still on the otherside of the room, "It is our fate to be together." Kaylee was submersed in fantasy. Maya traced Kaylee's sight trail, "Seven years is an awful long time to wait. Why don't you just make the first move?" "I'm the girl here," Kaylee claimed, "Besides, he won't even dance with me which makes me think Miles is not attracted to me beyond friendship," She finally pulled her vision to Maya, "If you don't mind me asking, what's it like living with him?" Maya ignored the question recognizing a face in the crowd, "Is that Ilene?" Kaylee followed her pointing finger, "What's she doing here?" They motioned for Ilene's attention. It took a moment until Ilene approached giving salutations to both taking the chair offered by Kaylee. "Don't think anything. I'm just here to get out," Ilene predefined. Maya nodded in empathy. "Ryan is always thinking about you. He's stopped working on the dance," Kaylee stated to Ilene. "I know, but it's how he's thinking of me I don't like. He thinks in order to love me, he has to 'love' me." "Atleast he is still thinking about you," Maya joked. The three laughed. JUSTIN'S DORM ROOM Justin's small home became comfortably cramped with a folding table in the middle of it. Ryan had came over earlier, calling on Justin's artistic talent to create the dance's advertising flyers. Using a combination of free hand drawings and computer graphic manipulation, the two had been working late into the night, with no promising results. Ryan stopped working around midnight, staring at the moon lit college campus outside the window. His thoughts walking in the empty quad kept him occupied until he came to a reason for loss of motivation. "All I can do is think about her," Ryan exclaimed. "That explains why you aren't participating," Justin typed in the computer screen after reading Ryan's lips. "I don't want to design the flyer tonight," Ryan's face twisted at the puzzlement of love. "It is a quest?" Justin distanced himself from their art work on the table continuing his question via computer screen. "A quest to be romantic. To prove I love her by not having sex," Ryan's eyes filled with the full moon that shone through Justin's open window. "Have either of you done it before meeting each other?" Justin asked. "Sure, I have. Plenty of times," the promoter bragged. "Really?" Justin could see truth peeking through Ryan's eyes. "With someone before Ilene," he confessed. "And Ilene?" Ryan stooped in shame, "Never even close." Justin lit up, "You have a special opportunity being given to you with Ilene." "I know," Ryan tried to skirt out of the subject. "No you don't," Justin was serious, "Ilene is saving her God given gift for the one she loves and marries. She is reserved for you and you are bumbling it up." Justin turned from the keyboard to speak naturally but the struggle with speaking clearly brought back the computer keyboard as translator, "Do you truly love Ilene?" Ryan turned away in thought making sure to answer correctly, "Yes." "Then marry her," was Justin's simple advice. "That's all I have to do?" The thought of commitment rang clear in Ryan's head. "Marry her to commit to her only. Begin this love you want to show her." A knock at the door brought the conversation to a close, as Ryan answered Miles and Kaylee outside. The two burst in the room, radiating excitement as they picked up the varying attempts at creating the dance's flyers. Kaylee held up a red heart shaped card, "This won't work," she sighed. Ryan snatched the artwork from her hands, "It will work." Kaylee neglected the rest of the work on the table, "At the club, Miles was practically mobbed with questions about this dance you have not been planning." Kaylee updated Ryan. "We need to make sure it goes well." "I have been meaning to talk to you guys about the dance," Ryan folded the heart shaped card, holding his breath before speaking again, "It's kind of hard to keep this up with Ilene being the way she is." Kaylee waved hands of disbelief, "She is not handicapped, she just wants to wait till she is married." "It's a lot better being alone I think," Miles interjected, "Because relationships are funny. Either you are in one and you do not want it or you do not have one and you are needing it." Kaylee rolled her eyes to Miles' retort, "You are as confused as he is, Miles. You have the 'girl of your dreams' living at your house, and you still write her secret love letters." "What's this?" Ryan asked lost in the stated fact. "It's only till the end of the semester, when she can get back on her feet," Miles defended, "It's been an emotional roller coaster for her since she came to my house, I don't want to add my burden of love on her." "What exactly happened that night anyway?" Kaylee asked with a want to hear the 'details'. Miles sheepishly began the tale, "She got in my car that night in front of her house and we went to my house," Everyone leaned in intently listening, "All we did was go inside. She was real quiet. She just went to my couch, curled up next to me when I sat down after bringing two cups of coffee and cried herself to sleep." Ryan pestered the idea, "My friend, you could have been happier." "Is that all you think about?" Justin addressed Ryan through Miles' translation. Ryan ignored Justin, giving Miles a puzzled look, "Where have I been that I don't know what my friends are doing?" "Sulking," Kaylee answered. "I don't know why you just don't get back with Ilene. You're always thinking about her," She shook Ryan with a tap of her foot, "You're thinking about her right now." "Enough about Ilene. Let's just talk about the dance," Ryan still stared at the clouds outside the small apartment's window, seeing Ilene's face take shape in them.

CHAPTER 5

In your lifetime you probably said something only to impress someone, or perhaps lied for no reason at all. It happens more often than people would like to admit. Our mouths become other beings speaking for themselves. When they finish, we are left asking ourselves, sometimes years later, "Why did I say that?" Many reasons constitute this phenomenon; psychological defense, rambling words of love, the need to be accepted. This was a side of Keren that Miles had tried to correct in their two years together. Her constant effort to be accept4ed even when it was unnecessary. It was evident now by her words whisping by his ears he had failed in his attempt. Why did I say yes? Miles mentally questioned his answer to Keren's question this morning when she called desperately needing to speak to him in person. Miles could never find it in him to turn someone down in need, obliging her by meeting at a park bench in the middle of the college's quad. Dried grass turned into shades of yellow that spread across rolling hills. Pollen and dust swirling in a breeze danced in the sunlight and Miles' eyes. He would blink occasionally, a delightful distraction from Keren's speech, which did not take much effort since he could not recall a word she had said thus far. "I started writing poetry again," her voice paused for response. "I would love to hear it," Miles was honestly enthused to hear. Keren gave a furtive glance then produced a folded paper from her breast pocket. She wore loose fitting black jeans with the knees cut exposing her soft skin he used to touch, a black tube top covering her breasts completely and compactly almost flattening them, and a dark green vest that he had given her as a gift when she had the hobby of photography. Her hair was no longer in braids but pulled back into a tail at the base of her skull. For the first time today, Miles noticed Keren's eyes were really brown recalling she had worn contacts for so long he had forgotten. "You've changed," He said before she started reading the first line. "So have you," she was not looking Miles over, "You want to hear my poetry? You never wanted to before." "I have always listened to your poems," Miles defended. "You always criticized them," Keren came across perturbed. "That doesn't mean I didn't like them," he pointed to the paper, "Please read it. I won't say anything." She swallowed saliva clearing her throat. "My love, you are from my sight Yet my heart feels you are close by. In the flower's scent, I find you Amidst a liquid sun dipping into the ocean, there you stand The heavenly stars, they reflect in your eyes. My love, you are closer than you perceive Yet un-tangable to my hands, they still feel you Where do I look for you now? In the tiny photographs which trap you eternal beauty. On the silver screen where I see the celebrity you will be.

Step not heavily in missing me, for I do not miss you. I see you in my thoughts transformed into dreams, transferred to my senses. I hear you in the whispers of a breeze, the birds at morning. I need not search for remnants of you For I cannot miss you if you have not gone from me."

Keren's head bowed dramatizing her reading. Her eyes rose slowly to face Miles awkwardly grinning at her. "It's very expressive," he could not help but give criticism. "You never listen to me?" Keren sensed Miles' distant mind, "You have never listened to me. You've never changed." Miles snapped from his racing thoughts. "Yes I have, you just are so difficult to understand at times." "What is that supposed to-" Keren stopped speaking, the conversation was becoming an argument, "I don't want to argue with you Miles." "What?" "You're always right, so what is the use to argue," She held up both hands in surrender, "Please." An awkward pause crept between them, deadening the air. "I've started seeing my old friends again," Keren paid close attention to Miles' expression, but as usual, could not decipher his reaction. "I kind of figured you would," there was no hint of surprise in his voice, no tightening of muscles to show hidden emotion. "You know me best, Miles," Keren put the poem back, "I could never surprise you." "I just have good intuition, I guess." "How are you and Maya doing?" The question brought a rise out of Miles. "We are not doing anything. We are not a couple. She is just living with me until she can get on her feet." "Oh, sure she is, Miles," Keren's body language hinted a sexual nature, "How's she paying the rent?" "She cleans the house and make the meals. But what should you care?" Miles was disturbed by her assumptions. "I'm just curious to why, the real reason why, you left me." Keren's true reason from needing to talk to Miles finally spat from her lips. MILES' HOME Miles' home was 9.6 miles north of the college. In a quiet neighborhood, tucked away behind a grand mansion home that hid his two story cottage. Complete with three bedrooms upstairs, kitchen, living room, and office downstairs. His uncle's generosity allowed Miles to live here rent free. The only condition was for Miles to return the good deed by helping others. Miles upheld the bargain by giving Maya a place to stay for free. Her only condition was to keep the house tidy. Maya in turn gave her friends Ilene and Kaylee a place to loiter when Miles was usually gone. The three discussed the details of Miles' and Keren's relationship for the past hour. "He couldn't stand her," Kaylee spoke of why Miles left Keren while washing a pile of dishes in the stainless steel sink. "That's why Miles leaves all his girlfriends." "So that is why you think he will never love another woman because he subconsciously loves you?" Maya traced Kaylee's rational. "Look at the facts. All his girlfriends look like me, talk like me, or resemble me in some fashion. And none of the women are still with him," Kaylee proved. "That's because they are all women," Ilene joked. The two paused for Maya's laughter, but she laughed for a different reason, stating, "Aren't conversations funny? Only a moment ago, we were talking about sex and now it's why Miles can't keep a relationship. Could it be the two are related?" Kaylee rinsed the last dish, "And that's supposed to be funny? Conversation moves like that. It doesn't stay on one subject for more than five sentences unless it's a speech or debate. It's just natural to move like that," she removed the rubber gloves then looked at Maya, "besides I just love Miles," she stressed herself, "I don't think of sex when I think about Miles," Kaylee looked around the room, "No, I think of Miles like this. Here is where he walks in. He touches this chair, looks at this picture. How he goes into that bathroom." She mimicked these things. Ilene could not believe Kalyee's enthusiasm, "You've gone beyond love." Kaylee cradled a picture of Miles from the mantel. "If only I could tell him then maybe the reality of my obsession will disappear. If he knew how his voice can lift my weighted heart. Ilene, he is the one for me, and he will never know it until I tell him." "Then tell him," both women agreed. Kaylee stood the picture back on the mantel. "But our friendship is too precious to me. If I were to tell him and he doesn't like me and so becomes uncomfortable our friendship would end then he would not be in my life at all. By telling him, I could loose him entirely." The possibility worried her. "Just tell him," Ilene encouraged "I can't do that while Maya lives here," Kaylee created a new excuse. Maya did not allow Kaylee's justification, "I only live here, and that's only because he's a nice guy." "You guys don't do 'it'?" Ilene frankly asked. "Not everyone that lives together has to do it," Ilene interjected. Maya addressed Ilene with the question, "How do you and Ryan not do it?" "It's just something I don't want to do before I get married. Ryan and I agreed on that," Ilene was puzzled by her own statement. "What a nice guy," Maya pushed the puzzlement deeper. Ryan is a nice guy. A nice guy that could not understand why he wanted her so desperately. When she had said for him to save their relationship, she had no foresight this request would push him away. Maybe she should have given into him, after all was she not supposed submit to her future husband? Besides the fact, they were not married, Ilene regarded Ryan as a future husband. The fact still could not constitute having sex with him. She was proud of her stand, one she made many frustrating times. If Ryan could not handle it, nice guy or not, he would have to deal with it. Their joining is a forever binding statement. "Miles is a real nice guy, too" Kaylee was enthused about her meaning. She brought a napkin to her brow wiping beads of sweat from it. These summer days took their toll on her body. Heat exhaustion would come from just sitting still and her mind would play tricks in the heat waves, sometimes casting illusions. For example, this napkin Kaylee was using, which was now drenched in her own sweat, there were words written on it, smeared yet legible. You sit close to me, our clothes touch, though my mind is miles away trampling itself. Someone in this house is writing poetry. You speak as beautiful as an angel. My heart dies with your words, gladly each time again. Someone is in love. My mouth cannot find the words to speak, I fall mute. Someone is trying to keep love's secret. You're only inches away making my rage inside destroy me. Love cannot be kept a secret for too long when the two sides of it live together. You're a fool my mind laughs at my heart. And I am peaceful outside because of you, Maya. The other someone is bound to find out that the other loves them. Kaylee stared at the napkin feeling that this sherade needed closure. Miles had a plan and it was going nicely. Until now. COLLEGE RADIO STATION Ryan's radio show was talkshow formatted, but tonight, he used nothing but taped interviews to fill his allotted two hours. Ignoring the callers lighting up the switch board, his importance focused on a wedding book in his lap. It had been given to him by Justin this morning. All day, Ryan thumbed through the pages of eternal commitment, the idea numbing his attention to the rest of the world. The couple had been dating for two years come August 21, two days from now. In the beginning, Ryan had freedom, conscious freedom, knowing he was with the most beautiful woman he would ever meet and they were in love. He grew comfortable over the first months believing his patience of refrainment from sexual pressure would pay off eventually. Ilene gave hints to her own desires, to fulfilling her needs, but those were days long gone. Why are things different now? Ryan thought to himself. Pale lit by the full moon, his damp skin twitched when touched by the ocean's breath. The college parking lot was always empty after his shift allowing Ryan to find solace in sulking alone. He lay facing the sky on the hood of his car. The sun had gone into twilight casting a red hue on the world. It was a stunning sight to watch the sky today, but Ryan was preoccupied with an ever greater beauty. Constantly throughout their relationship, Ryan begged for something Ilene was not willing to give. He wanted something in return for being with her, for his invested time. Was that not the definition of a relationship? To give equally to one another? If it was, then the question is did we have a relationship? Ryan had asked for something he could not have, just as Ilene, in return, asked for what she could not have. And even if he were to become romantic, nothing was to come of it, he would still be on the other end empty handed. Add in Justin speaking of marriage as the remedy and the situation became more confused. Ryan could not marry someone who could not return his love. He lay flat on the roof of the car, begging the sky for a sign. Return love. Was it love? Or needs? Why was life so full of questions? Why do we ever fall in love? It was her ability to spark emotional flames that he knew not how to handle. She had become his drug, his addiction in life. He would breathe in and there she was. His mind was constantly of her. So why am I avoiding her? Because he was selfish chasing his own wants and not seeing hers. His skin flinched again as the cool breeze became a gust, teetering him for the moment then returning to a breeze. Around here it takes only a moment for the wind to change.

CHAPTER 6

Morning always brought something new. Today was no different. Justin awoke in his own room to Miles opening the door, words flying out of Miles' mouth, not allowing Justin's groggy mind to read lips. Finally, he grasped the last words, "What good is a love I hide?" "Love?" He hoped Miles would repeat himself in order to follow along. "Sleeping at the desk again?" Miles noticed the cot had not been slept in. "Couldn't stop studying last night," Justin took a seat at the desk still unsure what Miles said at the door. "That's what I was talking about," Miles plopped on the cot, stretching, "What good is a hidden love for God, a person, anything?" "I'm afraid I don't understand," Justin closed his bible, which was slightly damp due to his sleeping on it. "Hidden love. You took the only Bible theology class at this school and you act like you're John the Baptist. You study so deeply about God yet I've never seen you in a church. You only speak of God to your friends not strangers. You're only observing God, you are not openly loving Him," Justin was offended, "I'm the same way, Justin. I love Maya. I have since the first day we met, yet I have never told her, even now as we live together." "You think I don't love God?" Justin sneered. "Not openly. If you did you would tell everyone and anyone. You would give that sermon Saint Paul's Church has been asking for. Love makes you shout, makes you not care what the world thinks," Miles paused lost in the thought that just sputtered from his own mouth. Yes it makes you not care about the consequences of the world, Miles pushed the idea back for a later discussion with Maya. "If you cannot understand the need for God in your life, let alone mine, how can you be in love?" Justin silently demanded with a slam of his hands together. Miles rolling back on the cot, still holding to the idea of carelessness he would use for Maya, "I believe God will send me my love." "He will surely send her to you, but you have to tell her how you feel," Justin's hands were a blur of relentless principles. "I don't have to tell her. She already knows." "Knows?" "It was foolish of me to have left it in the open like that," Miles kept staring at the ceiling, his hands shaping the words. "Kaylee found a letter I was composing on a napkin," Justin had already turned away picking up a bible, oblivious to Miles information. "Do you think I hide my faith?" Justin hugged the closest bible still feeling the sting of truth. Miles was puzzled until he remembered what he had said, "Yes." Justin nodded, "I guess I do have a hidden faith. Why not? Too many churches out there are commercialized into buying your attention to God. When I speak to strangers about God, when I attempt to, they laugh and shew me aside as if I were trying to sell them something, They," Justin pointed out the window, "Don't want to hear about God. It's hard to not only be a devout Christian but to have anyone listen to what He has done and promised when everyone is more concerned with what to wear to the dance. My faith is hidden, Miles, but not by me," Justin's face grew stern, "At least we know my problem. You fall in 'love' with a woman and wonder what is wrong. You give sex without commitment. Have you ever tried to just commit?" OUTSKIRTS OF DOWNTOWN Sorry that each passing moment becomes a day trapped in a stretched agony of disarray. Unknowing where to turn, lost in nowhere because everywhere causes you to burn. Your hollow insides echo a mournful cry. Alone enough you wish you could die. Sorry my dear you cannot, because I will even haunt you there. The poem, conceived this new morning, flowed from brain to pen. She blew the ink dry before holding it up to the light, admiring another of her works. Keren could envision the strength of her words defeating Miles' contempt for her. She was determined to win him back. She felt each letter written was a step closer to that goal. He gave her too many sleepless nights haunting her dreams. At times walking the street, she would hear him call her name but Miles was never around. She would try to obtain a high from any drug in hopes to pull away, only to cry his name, playing with its sound on her tongue. No drug could reach his potency. Her written words would have to suffice as the only tool to winning him back. These emotions writhing inside her were reflected in her surroundings. The abandoned house was empty of everything that made a house comfortable. Her friends had left in search of replenishing their narcotic nirvanas, leaving Keren to discuss her roller coaster of emotions with her two true friends, pen and paper. Keren sat Indian style in the middle of the room, smoke from cigarettes and marijuana danced with the sunlight that poured through cracked windows. It was surreal to her, almost intangible. She held the poem to the light again, reading the first word aloud, "Sorry," stopping when a shuffle came from outside the room. "Who's there?" She quickly dropped the poem, surveying the room for some kind of weapon. A figure of a man stood in sillouhette when she pivoted on her rear. Keren's eyes squinted making out the familiar features, "It's you. I thought you weren't going to come." "Do you think I would miss today?" He strolled into the room like a cat, keeping his eyes always on her, almost gliding each step. "Of course, today. Our anniversary." Now behind her, she could feel his eyes probing her asking questions she wanted to answer. "The day we promised we'd never leave each other," his hands were at her shoulders, massaging and kneading knots from her muscles. "But the others, they're coming back." "They know what today is. They'll stay away," remaining behind her, speaking softly in her left ear, the bass of his voice vibrating her skin, "Every moment that past, I believed we should be back together. We belong together, you and I." His arms curled around her, unbuttoning her shirt as he kissed her neck with wet pecks. Keren no longer felt awkward, her movements becoming more fluid to match his. Lying her face down on the floor, gently taking her clothes away, feeling skin brush against bare skin, Keren became light headed with desire. The tender finger pressed to her back, those fingers then tracing images along her skin. She became more enticed by the kisses along her spine causing her to moan. The hands told her to roll over and there she would face her lover that would never leave her again. Never never happens. She froze, speechless, staring at Marcus instead of Miles. He had performed none of what she felt, it had all been a figment of her drugged imagination. Only his shirt was off and she had her pants off. He kissed her lips forcefully slipping his tongue between her scream. Then he penetrated her. Her imagination could not override each violent thrust. Keren froze the entire duration, unknowing how to handle Marcus. Silent tears dripped to the floor unseen by Marcus whom kept his face turned away from her. Keren held back the scream that still wanted to pierce her lips, carrying out their ancient promise not to say stop. She spoke no passionate words lying still until his climax. At least Keren would always keep her word. Then she cried, curled up into a fetal position and sobbed. The emotions she had tread for so long finally weighed her down. Keren's world slipped away. When Marcus left without a word, she did not notice. When she pulled her pants up as she stood, she did not realize it. When she stepped outside staggering all the way due to the pain between her legs, she did not care. The soul focus of her conscious was on Miles and how to win him back. MILES' HOME Kaylee had knocked on the front door moments after Miles had left home this morning. Maya answered the door, finding a crumpled napkin on Kaylee's raised right hand. Kaylee explained how this letter was written for Maya, written obviously by Miles since she found it in this house. Kaylee went as far as to mention that moments before Miles disembarked for work, Kaylee took the liberty to inform him that Maya already knew her secret admirer. "That wasn't real nice," Maya's response to Kaylee's news was half heartedly serious. They took a seat at the kitchen table. "I just wanted to see his reaction first. If I told you he wrote them, you would have immediately delt with him, and I wouldn't have experienced him trying to squirm his way out of it," Kaylee laughed at the memory. "You should have seen him, trying to deny he can even write like that, 'I don't know how!" Kaylee deepened her voice trying to imitate Miles. "It must make you mad that he likes me like this," Maya held up the napkin. "I'm used to it." "Well don't worry because I don't like him like this." "Why not?" Kaylee 's joyous mood dropped, "What's wrong with Miles?" "He's not my type," Maya sipped her cup of coffee giving herself time to contemplate, "He's too good for me. I like my men kind of rough and rebellious. And with shorter hair then me." "Really? I thought you didn't like him because of me," Kaylee sipped her coffee till it was empty then poured more, "Isn't it hard to find a good man these days?" Maya held her cup to her lips, inhaling the aroma of coffee beans and milk. A good man was hard to find, indeed. Now a man found her yet she was unwilling to love him. Not for the reason of wrong type, but because she was not deserving of such love. She did not know what kind of man she needed, only that she did not need one for the time being. "Love can be confusing sometimes, can't it? At one moment, the picture is clear and perfect, the next you're staring at coffee asking yourself what to do now?" Kaylee's voice echoed through Maya's conscious. "Why don't you tell him Kaylee? Then these words could be for you?" "For me?" Kaylee shrugged the notion. "It's obvious he is a lonely person using me as a type of sounding board and a mold to sculpt the image he has of a perfect woman. Most guys do that, at least most of the ones I know. They try to make something out of nothing." "It has been seven years and I don't know if he has imagined what could be if we were ever together. Once when we were out, a waiter asked if we were seeing each other, I could have sworn I saw that imagination in his eyes," She moved her gaze past Maya to infinity, "I love him better than anyone he has been with could. I would let him shine with total disregard for myself," her gaze returned to Maya, "I do love him, but it's because of that love I cannot ask him to love me. It has been too long of a friendship and I don't want any possibility to ruin it," Kaylee poured sugar in her coffee and stirred, "So I'll just stay content with my dream of one day when I do more than make him laugh. When I can make him cry because I've touched his heart, I make him smile because I am his, I make him feel as safe and secure as he does me." Maya stopped drinking the coffee long enough to invoke, "Tell Miles everything."

CHAPTER 7

The Internet. A network of information streaming from house to house, connecting the near to the far. Strange things are found on the 'net'. Everything from porn to free computers, random to radical ideas that change you from the moment you read them. The lights were off throughout the three room studio, cloaking Ryan in secrecy. He did not want to be disturbed during another night of ignoring his radio show. He used the opportunity to surf the Internet on the radio station's computer. First logging on gave a list of hundreds of e-mails from various websites he contacted earlier in the day. Before dueling with the daunting task of reading each letter, Ryan singled out an unexpected e-mail file. Instead of immediately deleting the file, a few simple key strokes opened the file. "Dear diary, Your voice is that of a singer. Not a performer, because they simply memorize lyrics and notes. But you, you sing a song from the heart, filling in the pieces as the words pass your soft lips. I am afraid I have reached a level of obsession. Don't we all reach a level of obsession when we miss someone. My thoughts are always of you, my life seems to mold to you. Indeed, I have reached a level of obsession, perhaps it could be the level that love reaches." Curiosity found the sender's name, Just11. Why Justin? A few more keystrokes and Ryan joined Justin whom was already in a chatroom.

Ryan44:I received an email from you. Just11:I didn't send you an e-mail. Ryan44:Sure you did, with some sort of attached love note. I'll send you a copy. Just11:Oh that. That's nothing. Ryan44:Whom are you writing love letters? Just11:I don't like talking about it. It was a mistake that you received that. Ryan44:You're not getting away that easy. I thought you took a vow of celibacy the day you were born. Just11:That doesn't mean I wasn't able to fall in love. Ryan44:Oh, so you wrote this to someone else? Just11:I don't want to talk about it anymore. Ryan44:Anymore? Whom else know about this? Miles? How come Miles can know but I can't? I thought we were closer than that:-( Justin 11:I wish I was like you. Able to fall in and out of love. To try even after failure, but I only have fallen in love once. And only once. We were in love, a deep passionate love that I thought could never end. She was my first and only. Everyday, at any moment we could, we would. But it was just that, sex. Consuming at times, I became anti-social, I wanted her more and more every day, but only for sex. Ryan44:That's not bad. Just11:I allowed our sex to control my life, stepping away from God, from my friends, my work. I did not love her, not how she loved me, I needed to satisfy my cravings. Since I would not be patient with her when she would refuse, she left. Without a word, she left. In failing so miserably, I came to realize she was the one God had sent for me, and I had ruined it with sin. That is why I have vowed myself to God, because his chosen for me I have ruined. Ryan44:You didn't accidentally send the email to me, did you? Just 11:No. MILES' HOME "Yes?" Miles stood in the balcony doorway answering Maya's call for him. "Take a seat," Maya scooted making room. Miles hesitantly stepped away from the door, time dragging each step. She knows I wrote those letters. And this is a perfect situation to confront it with no one visiting the house, no daily chores left, the night still with silence giving no distracting sounds as an excuse not to talk. Each forced step echoed in his heart. "We need to talk," her voice was slowed to him, each syllable bouncing from his ears to his heart. Finally seated next to Maya, Miles avoided eye contact hoping the shyness would deflect her efforts, "What do you need to talk about?" The words struggled through the hundreds of other choices he wanted to shout. "For a while I have been receiving letters from someone I have never met." Miles' heart eased its racing speed. She does not believe I wrote the letters. He had to admit to himself he had covered his tracks well. "I didn't know you had a pen pal," Miles quickly devised a facade. "He's not exactly a pen pal. More like an admirer." "Of course, someone took interest in your art. Is that what you want to talk about, art?" The facade grew. "A year ago, I received the first letter. It touched me deeply. Such compassion sprang from it that I didn't want to stop reading." A letter was in her hand. "I fell in love with the words. They became an inspiration to draw something as beautiful as his word. It could have been anyone writing, I didn't care. I just loved the idea that someone tried to love me like that," the flicker of a cigarette lighter in her other hand surprised Miles. Maya held the letter over the flame until the paper began to burn. Then it was dropped into an empty coffee can between her feet. "So it was a secret admirer?" Miles could read some of the words before they burned, recognizing his writing. His heart galloped under his chest. Kaylee talks too much. "An admirer should just display interest, right?" Miles nodded in agreement remaining reticent, "He didn't. The words he chose, how deep his feelings were towards me were a brash chunk of raw emotions that were not conceivably thought through," She held another letter in her hand, "He became my dream lover, an intangible person which I took comfort in," the letter burned with the other in the coffee can, "I received letter after letter. That was it, only letter after letter. Never a carnet form of this fantasy. I could not imagine facial expressions that would woo me," two new letters were in her hand soon set ablaze and dropped in the tin cylinder, "I must have passed this admirer every day because he knew everything about me from an observer's point of view, and he still acted like he wrote me nothing. What good is a hidden love like that?" Compelled to defend himself but not expose himself, Miles began to tell his view on the situation, "An admirer," another letter burned, "Does not necessarily have to want to be with the person they write to." "They don't?" Maya paused in the burning process. "I've had friends that love to tell someone how they love them, never going any further than that." His facade was dropping. "That's probably because they know, on a personal level, whom they're speaking to. They don't tell strangers they love like this," she held up another letter crumbling it, "I don't know this stranger. I don't know who feels this way towards me." "Do you want to know?" Maya took her eyes away from Miles for the first time watching the smoldering letters, "No, I just need a sounding board to make a decision." Miles' heart thundered wanting to know this decision, "What have you decided?" His jaw refused to work, mumbling his words, but Maya understood. "I'll read you the letter I'm leaving my admirer." "How's he going to get your letter?" "I have an address," Maya unfolded the white paper and read softly, "I know this hurts you but I cannot be your answer to the question of love. I am not apologizing for not loving you as you clearly do me. I did not make you love me, I did not make you obsess for me. I most likely found friendship with you. I am not capable of reciprocating how much love you have expressed. This would make our relationship unfair," Miles fought himself shaking his head in contest to her statement, "I thank you though for touching me, giving me a drive I had lost, for giving an ear, a mind, a heart that I could only fumble with," she folded the letter along its creases, "Do you think it's strong enough?" "It's expressive, gets its point across," Tears pooled under his eyes hidden in acting as if an insect had flown too close by. "Could you mail it for me tomorrow?" Did she know all this time? Had she been toying with my emotions? "Why me?" He mustered the words. "I won't be going back to school tomorrow. Not for awhile." Her lips pierced, cheek muscles relaxed enough to spread back revealing teeth though not straight but attractive in their arrangement, her cheeks darkened in tone where wrinkles did not form. When Maya smiles each time is anew and awesome to Miles. "I started selling my paintings. I got a buyer in New York who wants me to design a show for her. I need you to tell Ryan I finished the lights and left them in your garage." Miles clasped the letter she still held for her admirer. As she went inside he sat numb with the guilt he had made her want to leave. MILES' BACKYARD Miles' home was tucked between his uncle's large mansion and a rising hill. Covered in green grass spotted with low shrubs, the hill rose four stories above Miles' cottage dwarfing it in comparison. Tonight, the dark shadows of the hill hid Keren's stalking. She had observed the entire burning letter ordeal between Maya and Miles, having a theatrical view of the back balcony. Keren was mentally inside Miles' home, where Maya stood now. She imagined the presence of Miles; his smell, his heat, him. Keren whispered a private conversation with Miles, all rehearsed over the past days of isolation. She could see him answer back, even though his lips did not say the words she heard. "Relationships are not the same today," Keren had forgotten Marcus was next to her. He had been spewing philosophical views of the world the entire time Maya and Miles were on the balcony. "People are more independent. What you have is yours. What I have is mine. We are not to be codependent, to depend on one another. I agree to this. Who can we trust now? Why should we love people, when the majority does not now how to return love. What I prefer in my relationships is freedom and total dominance. I should be allowed to play as I feel, because I'll only hurt myself if the other doesn't worry about it. And women should listen to what I say. And why not? Because in loving someone, the idea is to obey, and if they refuse, then they do not love me. The idea of love is to submit and if they don't adhere to my commands, then love is not there. If you love something and it is love, then it will come back when you let it go. So I say there should be freedom in a relationship." "But what if I don't want freedom?" Keren spoke more of Miles than Marcus' rambling. "Then you never tried love. My advice is to brutally push it away, for any reason and see if it genuinely exists. Did you and Miles have sex when you wanted?" "Yes," Keren's attention stayed on Miles' back balcony more than the conversation. Three hours they had spent in the bushes outside Miles' house watching him as he lived, hearing pieces of conversation. Marcus wanted to leave asking constantly why they were here. "I guess we can leave now. He's going to bed," he tried to persuade. "Wait, let me just see him sleep?" Keren pled. Marcus began to show irritation, "Sleep? Keren what is with this obsession?" "Obsession?" Keren kept her sights on Miles' window. "I'm a weird guy, but this is going a little bit too far," Marcus wanted to convince Keren of his truth, "He does not love you any more. That's why Maya is there, to replace you." Keren's blank expression shaped into sadness. "He still loves me," Miles was in bed now reaching for the light switch, "Always and forever," the room was dimly lit by the night, "I saw it in his eyes just the other day." Her expression perked with the assurance. "You're seeing what you want to justify stalking him," Marcus's voice could barely be heard over her stare at Miles' slumber, "You have been spying on him for days now. People should get over relationships, Keren." "I can't. I can't let go of something so unique." "You were only a means to satisfy his needs. There is no love Keren, not between you two. There was no love like the one you thought you had." Keren's eyes widened with anger as Maya entered Miles' room, quietly as to not wake him. Maya was checking on him keeping her stare long. What did she want to do? Speak to him more about what love they could not have? Marcus could not possibly be right. What Miles and I had was and is love, an undying love that stretches from here to where he lies asleep and beyond. I will win my love back, I will win. OUTSIDE THE GIRLS DORMITORY BUILDING Earlier today, Ryan had executed a three step plan. Sending a letter to Ilene by mail guised as a secret admirer was the first step inspired by Miles' attempts for winning Maya's affections. Now playing a soft serenade from portable radio in his hand so that she may hear was the second. The third and final step was soon to come. Ryan made his way through the thicket of bushes and tree limbs guarding the dorm rear windows. Stopping before the clearing to the window, he looked up at the second story, where Ilene's light shined. At this close of an angle, spying through the blinds he could see her dress into pajamas. He was in awe of how the light played about her beauty, hiding in shadow all that should not be seen. Ryan produced a tennis ball from his inner coat pocket and threw it at her wall. The thud caught Ilene's attention. She opened her window surveying the ground below spotting Ryan's face peering out of the green shrubbery, "My admirer is that you?" She asked as a letter from early today had commanded. Only expressions could describe her beauty as the night mixing with the light of her bedroom performed a hallow about her. "Please don't speak, allow me to say all that I feel with solely this sight of you," Ryan crumpled the memorized poem in his trembling hands. A deep breath summoned courage, "As I stand here my heart fills with blinding fear. I want to run, to cower away from this moment, for I am not understanding this feeling towards you." The portable radio carried a classical score underneath his voice. "Why my heart screams when your breath touches the very air I breathe. Why am I frightened, trembling as a leaf? It is this moment. I am wishing to cry for help but my heart assures me to be tame. I never listened to my heart. Who does that any more? Allow something noble to direct the body? But I listened. My heart has revealed miraculous avenues about you that I was blind to. It was given life the moment your eyes saw me. And your eyes spoke in a language that I was unable to translate, until now. Despite all my efforts to run and hide in the face of this emotion and your love, I find myself no longer wanting but needing you. Because this fear that I have spoken of is my love for you." Ilene stepped away from the window leaving Ryan to stand in the clearing. He paused waiting for her to return so he could finish his emotion. Minutes passed, leaving Ryan to believe Ilene was fed up with his antics. Ryan began to step back into the bushes in defeat when his angel's voice said, "More, please." The angel touched his shoulder as a mother touches her new child welcoming him to a new world. Ilene's glowing face held sincerity and compassion. Ryan caressed Ilene's face with both hands, "Love is no more instrumental than breathing," their eyes locked, "Those who have love, have their eyes opened to a different world that only their lover can see. I look at you realizing that love is what I see, I can only explain you as love," his hands traced down the side of her arms taking each hand while he knelt on one knee, "Because you make me want to breathe, think, create, you touch me in ways you'll never comprehend, by loving me. My love was blind as it was selfish, but now with my eyes closed, my heart is reaching in the darkness," he fished a ring from his pocket holding it to her view, "Longing to be met by your love but not knowing what to expect. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, if you will wear this ring." She could only manage to whisper the words, "Yes, my darling, yes."

CHAPTER 8

Dear God, I am writing to You because You know more than I about matters of life. I need to have answers to my life's questions, I am sure you are aware of my life long pursuit to spread your good word, Lord. I used to be so diligent with it? What happened to that? Remember how fired up I would be after church? How I knew how to talk to people with out knowing how to speak. Where did that go? I don't know where it went. So I am asking for you to help me find it, Lord, If birds of a feather flock together, then why am I befriended by those who treat you as a myth? Why does love exclude many of my friends? Why is it so difficult for others, my best friends, to honestly believe in you? Why doesn't anyone see that I love you? He slumped back against the wall, plomping on the floor boards. Birds near the window flapped in furious flight fleeing his somber. Justin closed his eyes in silent prayer as he concluded he would always be alone. Alone against the world. All his life, he'd been alone, wanting to keep the secret of God's love to himself. Justin closed out the letter; I guess it does me no good to hide what I have. You are not mine to keep as if I control you because when you love someone you should always say it, always mean it, shout it to the whole world that you love them, tell them again and again as if it were the first time they ever heard it. Justin folded the letter three times, slipping it into an envelope addressed simply to 'the Lord, my savior'. He opened the desk drawer exposing rows of white envelopes addressed the same, each a prayer for answers. The latest edition was added to the back row, hidden from prying eyes. He gently closed the drawer, contemplating his own silence of his convictions. RYAN'S HOME In the college years of one's life, there is an air of uncertainty. An individual can never truly feel comfortable where they live because their life will always be changing due to reasons of career, school, family, and love. Your stuff is never quite unpacked, there is just enough to show that you live there, but it all could be moved in a day's notice. Ryan surveyed the sea of boxes filled with magazines, books, music formats, clothes, house items. All that filled his small apartment now spread down the hallway. How ever did he manage to fit all this in a small apartment remained a mystery to him and Ilene. They had worked through the night, packing everything Ryan had accrued over the 6 years of college. "Want to take a break?" Ilene asked, effortlessly lifting a box from the far end of the hallway. "I'll get the drinks ready," he was already headed to the kitchen when answering. Using two boxes stacked on top of each other for a table, they sat across from each other, sipping steamed tea. Neither spoke for ten minutes, only exchanging looks of compassion ending with Ryan overlooking the quad of the college campus out the apartment's only window, "I don't want to go." Ryan's eyes begged for sympathy. "I understand, love," Ilene could see Ryan's inner conflict. "Don't take it wrong, I'm still going. But," his eyes focused out the window again, "I don't want to leave." His apartment had changed over night, becoming spacious and orderly as were his thoughts of marriage. Ilene took his hand caressing it softly. He would miss this town, culture, friends, surroundings. Life changed for Ryan drastically that night at her window, so to the point its effect still trickled to the surface days later. "How is the 'love dance' coming?" Ilene tried to give distractions. Ryan's face drooped, "Oh, the dance." Strange, though it may seem, Ryan felt comfort in his life until that inquiry. COLLEGE RADIO STATION Maya had left taking all traces of her being in his life. Why does an openness of one's heart change the receiver? A question riddling Miles' mind since that night on the porch. By the next morning, Maya took what little she owned and left before he awoke. Miles knew why. He was to blame for her pain. He drove her away because he loved her too much. Maya had no choice but to not love him, his approach was too secret for her needs. Miles was shackled to that night's events days later. His only freedom came by the mundane events in life. He slid a record over the turntable. The radio waves vibrating the station's antenna were silent for three seconds, until crackle subtly increased then gave way to a soft jazz horn wailing pain better than Miles could ever express. Listening through the monitor speakers, he dazed, questioning love in his mind, his heart. Kaylee stepped into the booth, slamming a fist on a red button near Miles' head, "You missed the commercial spot!" Her voice cracked under tension. "That's why it was quiet," he shrugged, not caring. "Miles, face it, she didn't love you," she took a seat next to him, "None of them ever loved you." "Not now, Kaylee?" Miles was disturbed by Kaylee's forwardness. "We've been friends for seven years. In those seven, you have gone through countless quote 'loves'." "You're point being?" Miles never liked Kaylee bringing up the past. "If it was love, true love, they would still be here." "What are you saying?" He started another record that was randomly picked from the stack on the wall. "You left Keren to be with Maya, in despite of Maya not loving you." Kaylee assisted Miles by raising the volume of the new record. "Do you believe I don't understand love?" Miles probed. "Let me tell you a story about a curse that was given long ago to a man. He would be not able to love, understand love, receive love. His children were not made aware of this curse, so they in turn mistook lust and admiration for love. And so their lives and loves continued through out generations, never knowing true love." "Was that supposed to make me change?" Miles crossed his arms letting the record play its next song, "I know I don't know love, that's why I left Keren, that's why Maya doesn't want me." Miles' anger built. "I never loved Keren. Do you know how much that hurts to admit that the past years were a waist of my time." Kaylee turned around, hearing an echo in the room. "Did you leave the microphone on?" The echo resembled microphone feedback. Miles' eyes scanned the mixer panel discovering a flashing light underneath his hand, "This button here. This is the mic button." "Turn it off," Maya could hear herself in the monitor speakers. They were being broadcast. "It is," Miles denied the possibility. "It's flashing, Miles, that means it's on," Kaylee was serious. Miles pressed the button discontinuing the flash. "Maybe I just turned it on." "Maybe," Kaylee prayed. The phone line next to the mic button flashed. Out of habit Miles opened the channel allowing the call to broadcast live, "You're on the air, hello." "At nights you would say you loved me," Keren's voice slapped Miles, "You said you loved me, Miles," intuition made Miles remove his head phones, "You were all I had Miles and you left me. I have fallen into the pit of despair. Now, I am at the gates of hell. You have tortured me without knowing, you have slain me by not knowing what you were saying when you said you loved me," The sounds of rushing cars faded in the background of Keren's end. Instinct told Miles to run outside, where the public address system around the school still resonated Keren's voice. "I trusted that love, Miles. I built my life on it," the open hallway seemed longer, crowded, an obstacle course for him to run, "I changed my life for you," the quad was filled with students at lunch or what ever they needed. Miles did not care of his surroundings, fear was pushing him. Keren's voice was everywhere Miles turned. "You promised we would have children together, live together forever," Miles burst through the front doors of the girl's dorm building located at the edge of the campus overlooking the busy main street of the city. "I tried to get you back Miles, but you loved another even though you just admitted you don't know what love is," the elevator was filled with people headed to their own destinations, too selfish to give Miles room aboard. "Miles, I never doubted that love, not for an instant. I wanted to believe I could be a good girl," Miles' foot steps thundered as he sprang up each step in the stair well, "But I realize, as you once said, I'm a bad girl who does bad things," Miles shoved the roof access door open, stumbling onto the tarred roof, blinded by the rush of sunlight. "Miles, if I don't have you, I don't have anything," Keren's voice was no longer on the public address system five stories below. "Keren?" He asked the sillouhette at the roof's edge. "Miles?" her voice trembled with surprise. She dropped the cell phone, crying, "You remembered where we first met." "Yes, Keren, so why are you up here now?" Miles casually walked towards her, his arms spread to receive a hug, to hold her close. "I'm going to win you back," tears gargled her words. "Of course you will," Miles would say anything to lengthen the distance between Keren and the ledge. "I'm sorry that each passing moment becomes a day trapped in stretched agony of disarray. Unknowing where to turn, lost in nowhere because everywhere is out of reach. Hollow insides echo mournful cries. Alone enough, you wish to die. I don't want to be, not without you." Keren tossed the crumbled poem at Miles, whom bent down to pick it up instead of reaching out to grab her. Keren leaped backwards facing Miles with her dark green eyes. Quickly the view of him was partially blocked by the raised ledge she had fallen from. In those brown eyes of his could be seen his love, how they screamed now. Miles did not want her to die, his hands reaching for the unreachable. An inner bliss filled Keren in knowing Miles could and did love her. That was all she needed. Now she wanted to step back to his side, to remain there as it was meant to be. "Oh Lord, what have I done?" The question lost in the rush of air. The decision to leap was not well thought through. Keren was blind to the consequences, blind because it won Miles back. Hurry for one last look. What a beautiful man you are Miles, still trying for me. My darling, can't you see it is useless, I was everything you feared and more. You pried me from that shackled life those years ago but I could never stay away. You knew I could not live without you. The impact on the concrete was unfelt, almost as if she had missed the ground, giving Keren a lost hope she survived. Cars around her screeched to a halt crashing into one another missing her body. She was unaware of the chaos she caused on the ground since the bliss of love had been achieved in her. Freedom of strife, it was priceless this moment until nerves shot pain to her brain. Screaming a shortly lived shriek muffled by waves of agony, Keren's body cracked as porcelain doll is knocked off a high shelf.

CHAPTER 9

Let it be known that punishment comes to those who are deserving. Though you may think you have escaped persecution, you will be found. After all, "You'll get yours." has to have some meaning, does it not? Ryan's punishment in not producing their college's last dance is for not accepting love and, in turn, losing his celebration of love. Those surrounding him have no knowledge of this. They smile and laugh, talk and contemplate all the while he pummels himself on the inside for having failed to complete his obligations. "Where's Maya?" Ilene's question pulled Ryan out of his stooper, and snapped Miles' head to check the empty chair directly across from him. "She received a grant to go to New York," Miles answered returning his attention to the empty beer mug in front of him. "She was supposed to do the lights," Ryan burst the words, "Did she at least do that before she left?" Desperation began to strain his last words. Miles' eyes shifted upward staring at Ryan, "They're in my garage." "At least you have lights," Ilene tried to be hush about the realization. "At least?" Kaylee pushed Ryan sulking head up, "What does she mean, at least?" The moment of truth. Ryan scanned his friends, seeing complete bewilderment. Here Ryan was supposed to explain how he had let his relationship deteriorate his work. How he allowed everyone's efforts to go unrealized. But looking at their faces now and knowing a new avenue of love, Ryan felt a new revelation dawn on him, when you have lemons, make lemonade. "There are going to be a few changes to the production." The table perked in attention to their producer, "It is going to be at the college, and Miles and I will play the music all night long." The lemonade may taste a bit sweet, but it was edible. Miles played with the empty chair next to him, Keren's designated chair. The time had not passed enough for everyone to settle with Maya and Keren being gone, as was evident by the two empty chairs reserved for them. Maya's absence was readily accepted, she just had to leave. Keren's void was skipped over, ignored. Her funereal was today, an hour from now, yet no one at the table mentioned condolences to Miles. They felt relief for Miles, how shallow this sounds, they felt relief. Miles stayed lost in thought as the other's continued to conversate. They're gone. Both loves left, far beyond my reach. Both left because I cannot control the handles of love. Perhaps Justin was right, 'You cannot love two people the same.' My love for Maya was supposed to be transitional. A bridge so that I would not fall into the gap of loneliness and despair. Miles now learned of his punishment for being so absurd. Ryan's seriousness ran deep, "I need you guys to help me really make this happen." Everyone sighed in unison, "Isn't that what we're here for?" Ryan referred to everyone, "Tomorrow, we need to start working on the college." Kaylee inquired, "What do we have to work with?" "The lights in Miles' garage," Ryan stated. Miles stood making his way from behind the table. "You are ready to play all night?" Ryan pleaded stopping his friend with a gentle tug. "Sure, all night," Miles was already mentally out the door, "Kaylee can you come with me?" Ryan grabbed Kaylee's hand as she stepped by, whispering as Miles left the pub, "Where are you guys going?" "Don't worry, we'll be ready next week," Kaylee's urgency was in following Miles. CITY CEMETERY From the still air to the gray skies there had been hints of rain all morning. God, Himself, created this poetic funeral for Keren. During the priest's sermon over her grave, rain poured in sheets, drenching the three mourners. Keren's father left to his waiting limousine when the preacher gave his amans, ignoring Miles' and Kaylee's attempt to console him. They stood apart as the limousine rolled silently out of sight over the hill. Miles hung his head for unspoken shame as he walked to the still raised coffin. "Kaylee?" She tentatively listened since it was the first word he had spoken since the pub. "Had I done the right thing?" A quiver in his voice revealed what the rain hid. "What else could you have done?" Her arm stretched across his shoulders pulling him close to her side. "What else?" Miles took a stride from Kaylee, kneeling beside the tombstone, "I had promised her our lives together, to grow old together. It felt like the thing to say when I said it." "Miles, you were more in lust than love, my friend. No relationship can exist solely on the basis of sex. A part of understanding love is that there is blind love and then being blind to love. You two shared a blind love, blind to the relationship that was not there." Kaylee held total disregard. "Why do you have to be so harsh to me about my relationships?" Miles expressed a mixture of grief and insult. Kaylee opened her mouth to answer but stopped when Miles nodded to questions in his mind. "You're right Kaylee, I don't have a clue what love is." The coffin began to descend, "Not a clue." Keren fell away from him once again, her decent bringing Miles to tears. Kaylee stood back allowing the unique man wail in pain as dirt began to be piled over the casket. Silence crept across the graveyard as the caretakers left the two friends. An echoing silence that broke with cackles from a nearby tree. A NEAR BY WILLOW TREE "That boy has no clue. If he had she would still be alive with us," Devon hissed through gritted teeth. Even after her death, they honored Keren's request from years ago to stay away from Miles. Merle, Devon, and Marcus made comments about Miles' confused state having watched the entire funeral from afar. Only Miles would not stay away from the three deviants. "He's coming over, Marcus," Merle pointed at Miles marching up the hill. Miles ignored Kaylee's plea to stop, stomping anger into the mud. Miles forgot Keren's only demand of him to stay away from her friends. He obsessed on the fact Marcus was now within reach of his own two hands, "What are you doing here?" Marcus and Miles asked in unison. A trembling fist of Miles' shot out connecting with Marcus' nose staggering him back three steps until loosing balance falling against a tombstone. Merle reacted punching Miles in the gut hunching him to a height Devon could kick him giving full contact of her shin to his forehead dropping him backwards. The world began to dim in Miles' eyesight. He could feel the crunch of his skull against stone. The streaking sound as he slid into a puddle of rain. The splash landing whooshed in his ears as Miles' world softened into blackness. He could see them coming closer, rage building in their eyes. Fear gripped Miles to stay still to the point of unconsciousness. Miles awoke to Kaylee yelling at Marcus. Their words and detail in vision were blurred by the rain and throbbing in his head. Marcus turned to Miles with an evil shaped face, pointing an accusing finger as he stepped closer. Kaylee stood her ground blocking any further physical approach Marcus stood his ground signaling Devon and Merle to cease the taunting shouts, giving his own accusations full attention, "You brought all of this on yourself!" he spoke through twisting lips that trembled with rage. "You took her away from us. The ones that truly loved her," Marcus' face contorted between anger, sadness, and pain from his now bleeding nose, "You sheltered her like some kind of wild animal thrown in a cage. You took everything away from her making 'you' the only thing in her life. Then for no reason other than your own selfishness you took yourself away from her, destroying her world that you designed." Having vented enough, the trio left leaving Kaylee to hoist Miles to his feet. "Let's get you home." TO MILES' HOME Kaylee drove Miles' car home, checking on the sleeping disc jockey in the passenger seat. She had taken him to emergency care, whom dismissed him with aspirin for any pain that could arise. She took Miles to his home, using his keys to open the front door. His limp body was supported by Kaylee's shoulder dragging him upstairs and into his room. Miles dropped as a sack of potatoes on the bed. Kaylee proceeded to take off his shoes, stopping when Miles' groggy words slipped out, "Thank you." A clumsy hand patted her head, "Thank you for everything you are to me," Kaylee tucked him into bed, trying to ignore Miles' words into slumber. "You deserve better than this," she whispered before sitting on the floor preparing to stay all night. Down on the floor, Kaylee found a well used notepad almost underneath the bed. "Who do you love now?" She asked the lump above her, picking through the pages. "Writing letters are no good if you never say them to the people they are intended." The last written page was found. Its top line was a perfect example as she read. Through these words have I expressed how beautiful you are? Kaylee read on. Please do not take the word beautiful light heartedly. People have used the word too often killing its passion. Beautiful is regarded as a mere expression or description. But you, you are beauty in its true form. Beauty has no equal, it etches into your memory for all time. Beauty is radiant glow, the ora, that doesn't say 'look at me'. Instead, from one look, it captivates you, and engulfs you. Beautiful, for lack of a stronger word, beautiful is how I see you. Kaylee closed the notepad, checking once more on Miles, then opened it to the first page and began to read every page, each word would be her's tonight.

CHAPTER 10

The end of the school year holds special meaning. An ending to the sheltered life of learning, when you no longer have an excuse to be ignorant. It is simultaneously frightening, exciting, sad, happy; an emotional roller coaster. Knowing everything yet fearing the unknown. The social life in which you are accustomed is stripped away destroying friendships and creating new ones. Today, the last day of school, calls for celebration and sorrow for all these meanings. The five friends had worked during the quiet last week. Each executing their parts professionally. Justin created the entire lay out using outdoor lights to create pictorial representations of graduation; cap and gowns, diplomas, smiles. Miles arrived early, the sound equipment in tow. Kaylee had preached the news of the dance all week long on the radio, plastering posters around campus, and managed to talk the school board into financially aiding this dance of love. Ilene even stepped to the plate, stringing out Maya's crache lanterns and punctured water hose idea. The entire campus was decorated with festive paper meche lanterns strung through the air lighting everyone with a mixture of color and shadow. Sprays of mist shot from punctured hoses dangling underneath the lights. Sixty two percent of the student body mingled subconsciously touring their school for the last time. Collectively they sighed at the inevitable to come the morning after, graduation and separation. The crowd grew wrestles with anticipation of what was to come. Unaware to the masses, perched one story above their reach, on the top of the college's only radio station, was the concert producer and disc jockey. Both surveyed the crowd with winning smiles. This was their night, their happening. Though life may be different the next morning, the two friends stood proud of the night's accomplishment. Ryan could sense this feeling of anxiety drift from the audience below as he stepped away from the roof. "Let's see those guys in Los Angeles do this." Miles did not vocally comment, responding with the start of the first record. Crackling of dust against the phonograph's needle lowly sounded from the PA system placed precisely about the campus' quad. The audience drew breath for the dance was to begin in seconds. Touching one switch on the mixer console activated a ruby red laser beam that bounced across the campus drawing a heart on the face of the radio station. People were amazed by this, trying to reach the light beam. Ryan cheered along with the crowd at Justin's 'love ray' concept. Their distraction from the beamed heart came two heartbeats after it began. Bass vibrations followed by percussion brought the audience into a frenzied dance in celebration of the last day of school. Kaylee placed the final crate of records on the table behind Miles, "Can we dance sometime tonight, Miles?" "Sure," her breath drew short in his abrupt answer, "there are plenty of people to choose from out there," Miles referred his hand to the throng below. Ryan threw water balloons into the crowd, "Too bad Justin couldn't see this."

"You're leaving now?" Miles asked while lifting a crate of records into his truck's bed. Ryan squinted at the rising sun, "Our plane leaves in an hour." Ryan looked over the quad where a great celebration had ended an hour ago. "You are great at what you do, thank you." "No thanks is necessary," Miles put up a shield of modesty to hide feelings of loss. "Let me thank you, my friend," Ryan gave a business handshake following it up with a friend's hug hinted with a false hope, "It's only across the nation." Kaylee and Ilene approached from the other side of the green car. Ilene pecked her fiancé's cheek, "Everyone of you better be at the wedding next year." The four laughed knowing it would be the last time they see each other. The couple gave their final hugs and good-byes vanishing from the minds of Miles and Kaylee before completing the first step. Now left alone, Miles and Kaylee continued loading the hitch trailer with record crates, each avoiding eye contact. Occasionally Miles stopped, transfixed on either the baby blue house beyond the wood fence or in the opposite direction at the towering girls dorm bordering the highway side of the campus. He convinced himself to be glad about graduating, about leaving love's passing ghosts. Kaylee spotted some of Miles' momentary lapses of remembrance, she knew too well their silent pain. It may have been desperation, because she knew he was vulnerable but she wanted to hold him, to protect him from love's wicked side. Despite the desperation for companionship, she had felt this way for Miles since the day they had met years ago. From their experiences together, she knew he would run into someone else's arms soon to mask the pain of losing. Kaylee wanted to be the one, because she knew she would not hurt Miles, that he would never hurt again. Courage built in her heart to speak. "I need to know, Miles," Kaylee lifted the final crate into the truck slamming the door shut. "Who did you write to in your notebook?" Miles kept his sight on that baby blue house beyond the fence lining the back of the parking lot. He ignored Kaylee's question with his own, "What is it all about?" "What is what all about?" They stopped loading the trailer. Kaylee sat on a crate concerned with Miles' direction in conversation. "Meeting people, losing people." "That is just life, Miles," Kaylee's forward approach always came natural. "It's just unfair," Miles' retort startled Kaylee. His gaze drifted from Kaylee's eyes to the baby blue house then back to the top of the girl's dorm building. "I want to know whom you wrote to in the notebook under your bed," Kaylee detoured any further dodging of her original question. "My notebook? Why would you read my notebook? Do you think those words are for you?" Miles turned a disturbed face to Kaylee. "Who then? You wrote that after she died," Kaylee was on the verge of pleading for her answer. Miles sat on the trailer not wanting to answer the question but did so with gritted teeth, "No one. No one that exists."

At the immense doors of church, Justin held the crumpled blue envelope in one hand, a bible in the other. What good was it to hide love? If Justin thought the church needed better direction, then he was going to have to be the one to give it. He saw everyone take their seats through the open doors. An usher signaled for him to enter. With humbled breath, Justin marched down the aisle, feeling the need to be here rise as he passed the bored and unsaved souls alike on the way to the front row. After the choir's hymns, the preacher announced Justin's special appearance. The usher signaled for Justin to approach the pulpit. Each step Justin took, brought attention from the church members. Justin could feel their doubts, 'What will he say?' 'Is he really deaf?' 'When is tithe offering, so I can leave?'. He stood now at the podium, his hands spread open notes taken throughout the past year. Justin studied the assembly; there were married and dating couples, families, and friends all with the same look Justin once had on his face years ago. He gave a quick silent prayer to give what he did not receive those years ago, to detour and departure from God. Justin closed his bible, putting away his speech notes and gave pause for the audience to react with their eyes; 'Is he giving up?' 'What? Is he blind now?' 'What is this boy doing?'. Justin decided to set aside the preparation in order to allow God to do his work. "All the questions we have stem from the purpose to belong, to love someone, something, to know we are not alone in this great big universe. We are designed to love one another as God says we should and it is for us to discover how to love." Summing up the past year's events came easier to Justin without the aide of notes. He honestly spoke from the heart, touching on everything he had witnessed on his walk through faith; how fear can be easily mistaken for love, why we are so easily trampled by love, love can be ignored even when it is shouting in your ear, that love can be misunderstood, and love taken too far can become obsession. "Leave today with this passage found in 1st Corinthians 13:1-7,13 And it says If I had the gift of being able to speak in other languages without learning them, and could speak in every language there is in all of heaven and earth, but did not love others, I would only be making noise. If I had the gift of prophecy and knew all about what is going to happen in the future, knew everything about everything, but did not love others, what good would it do? Even if I had the gift of faith so that I could speak to a mountain and make it move, I would still be worth nothing at all without love. If I gave everything I have to poor people, and if I were burned alive for preaching the Gospel but did not love others, it would be of no value whatever. Love is very patient and kind, never jealous or envious, never boastful or proud, never haughty or selfish or rude. Love does not demand its own way. It is not irritable or touchy. It does not hold grudges and will hardly even notice when others do it wrong. It is never glad about injustice, but rejoices whenever truth wins out. If you love someone you will be loyal to him no matter what the cost. You will always believe in him, always expect the best of him, and always stand your ground in defending him. ...There are three things that remain, faith, hope, and love, and the greatest of these is love."