Thursday

So Baylor has this literary magazine for undergraduate students that they publish each year. I figured "Why not" and decided to try and write a short story in the hope that it may get published. Of course they don't start taking admissions until January, so I have quite the head start on this. I had posted my rough draft earlier, but I've now finalized it and this is the version I am submitting. I changed a log of stuff (or at least I feel like I have.) Let me know what you think.

Oh and leave your name too.

Notice the Waves in His Hair
by Brian Sanders

He had just barely caught the plane, jogging into the cabin just as the stewardess was closing the door. She had never seen him before. Watching, she prayed he was to be the one sitting in the empty seat next to her. He looked at his ticket and walked down the aisle, checking each row number carefully. He stopped at her row, looked at her, and flashed a weak smile. Instantly she felt the strings of her heart that were tied to the corners of his mouth tighten. She smiled back and watched as he put his backpack into the overhead luggage container. They would be spending the next twelve hours together as they made their way over the Pacific Ocean in the dead of night, and she couldn’t think of another person she’d rather spend it next to.

The plane began to climb and she began to relax and watch the city lights of Los Angeles disappear from the air in the dimming light. She tried not to glance at him too much, but the temptation was too great: he was reading an Richard Yates book and drinking soda from a small plastic cup. Every now and then he’d eat a few peanuts, never taking his eyes off of the book. She closed her eyes and imagined what his apartment looked like.

Images of a room filled with sleek modern furniture flashed in her mind. There were books scattered around the room, “Organized chaos” she thought. She’d clean everything up and organize all of his books, finding the time he couldn’t. Her daydreams began to get more intricate and she convinced herself that he had a dog and even though she was a cat person she would be willing to compromise. She would ask her mom to take Alfred in (she had always loved that cat). Her mom would be more than happy to.

It was still raining and she could hear its soft patter against the window. Only a few lights were on in the airplane compartment, it was late and almost everyone was fast asleep. She turned and looked at him. His eyes were closed and his book lay open in his lap, he hadn’t read too much. “He probably bought it in the airport” she thought. She turned and looked out the window. The clouds moved by quickly as the plane cut them in half. Every now and then the plane would rock slightly in the turbulence. All of a sudden the plane gave a violent lurch and the man next to her stirred, and still asleep, rested his head comfortably on her shoulder. “Should I wake him?” she thought. She stared at the top of his head; waves of thick blonde hair, his mouth was slightly open and she could hear him breathing steadily. It was as if they were dating and she tried to imagine what it would be like to be in a relationship.
She’d go to the grocery store before he woke up and fill up his empty refrigerator with the essentials that he had been living without. She wouldn’t tell him what she had done, no, it would be better to surprise him so he could see how much she loved him. She could see it all now. She’d be sitting at the kitchen table pretending to read the newspaper. He’d give her a kiss on the top of her head, ask for the sports section and make his way to the fridge to pour a glass of milk. Wiping the sleep from his eyes he’d open the fridge door and find that, to his surprise, it was filled with groceries. Everything that he had meant to go buy later that week would be there. She had saved him the time and the trip. She would sit there smiling, not saying a word; he’d turn and look at her. He’d flash a mile, “thanks honey”, pull her close, close enough to where she could feel the whiskers on his cheeks, and he would give her a kiss on the lips, yes on the lips, and she imagined herself smiling in between kisses.

“No, I’m not moving” she decided.

She prayed that someone would walk by to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, just so they could see him using her shoulder as a pillow. She’d make eye contact with the passing stranger and give a weak smile and a look that would say, “Deep down, he’s really not so tough”. They were just two young lovers with their whole life in front of them, madly in love with each other.
She stared out the window and could see the stars; unwavering and twinkling, still so far away even this high up. She drifted in and out of sleep dreaming of the life they’d have. Falling asleep outside under the cloudy autumn skies, weekends spent at the beach, bringing him home to meet her parents, moving in together and getting used to all of his little nuances. She’d accept them all with a smile. She loved him.

She could see the sunshine through her eyelids that morning. She glanced at him, still fast asleep on her shoulder, a small puddle of drool growing on her sweater. She smiled.”So it wasn’t all a dream.” She leaned over and kissed his head, only slightly, a small kiss to let him know that she loved him. His eyes fluttered open, surprised and awake.
“What are you doing?” he whispered harshly at her
“Nothing I was just…I….I….I don’t know. I’m sorry” she was stuttering now, at a loss for words.
He rubbed his eyes, and looked at her with a confused look on his face. She couldn’t take it anymore, tears swelled up in the corners of her eyes like small puddles. She wiped them away and turned out the window, embarrassed and angry all at once.
“So it had all come down to this. It was bound to happen sooner or later. I always loved him more than he loved me that- was for sure. But here, now, like this? Couldn’t he have been kinder about it? I have sacrificed so much for him, for us. I sacrificed my job, my friends, everything all for him, and for what? Nothing. Not even a ‘thanks for everything that you’ve done for me”
The plane began to descend and the seat belt sign came on. She felt her ears begin to pop with the pressure. Gripping the armrests she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was still sitting there, reading that stupid Richard Yates book. She watched the waves in his hair and instantly she was taken back to the beginning of their relationship, how happy she was then and how much she had loved him, even now.

Friday

No, no, I know what you’re thinking, I’m not making this up. It was one of those cold autumn days. What? No, we started going out before winter. Yes, I’m positive. Do you mean to tell me you don’t remember when we started dating? No it doesn’t matter, it’s not all that important when we started. Anyways let me finish my story. It was one of those cold autumn days. It had been raining for most of that week and it seemed as if the rain had washed away the hot weather and brought in this really really nice sweater weather. I remember it, you and I had just watched that one Woody Allen movie, what was the name of it…Ann something? Do you remember it? The one where they fall in love, you know they had that lobster scene. Forget about it doesn’t matter. Anyways let me finish. We had just finished watching that Woody Allen movie and we walked out of the theater and into the parking lot.The wind was blowing and I thought about putting my arm around you but I was too nervous so I just stuck my hands in my pockets as we walked. You were telling me something about the movie, some funny scene (and this is when I first noticed it): whenever you laughed you would close your eyes for what seemed like a prolonged blink, closed real tight, smiling and laughing. It was so weird finally realizing what it was that was so different about you. See you’re doing it now! Yes, yes you are, you just can’t see it since you have your eyes closed. Of course you’re not going to do it now, now you’re forcing yourself not to! Originally it was a subconscious thing but if you think about not closing eyes when you laugh you won’t close them. Well the whole point of this is that that’s when I realized that I liked you. Sure we had gone out on a few dates before that, but it's when I started picking up on the small peculiarities about you that I wouldn't really notice if we were just friends, that I realized "man she really is great" and that's when I think I began to like you. No really it's true. Fine fine believe what you want, and I'm not making this up: that really was when I first realized I liked you...stop laughing at me! Now go ahead, its your turn, tell me your story.

Saturday

You sound like Heather Lewis (or at least that's how I imagine it).