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A Typical Story
She loved him, he didn’t love her. He didn’t even know her name. He didn’t even know she existed. She knew almost everything about him. Her name was Brigit Brown, his, Dakota Brown. They had the same last name; that was what had caught her attention. That day in dreaded PE when Mr. Miller yelled out in the gym, “Hey, Brown, get over here!” they had both of their heads swiveled towards the Coach, and began walking towards him. Of course, though, he had been talking to Dakota, the star quarterback. How ironic: a football player, of all people for Brigie to fall in love with.
She knew almost everything about him. Except for the few key details about him that he never shared with a single person; they were the type of things that you had to dig deep to find, the kind of details that only a guy madly in love would tell his true love, not just some random girl from school. Brigie wanted to be the one to discover those things about him.
And how was she supposed to know that she would be the one to do that?
There she was, sitting in the music room, pounding away on her drums, her dark brown hair covering her face like a curtain. Each pound of the drum brought on a new thought for the next note to come, a new idea for another one of her songs, a new direction to take the solo in. And then, at last, the bangs and clangs of the drums stop, and she rests her arms for a few minutes, and writes down the notes that she just played on a sheet of paper meant for songwriting.
And there he was, quietly sneaking into the music room, head down, trying to go unnoticed. He didn’t realize that anyone was in there. As soon as he noticed her, he turned on his heal and tried to scramble out the door. But then the thrumming of her sticks on the snare hit his ears, and he immediately stopped and turned back around to watch the magical show: the show of a beautiful girl getting lost in her music, putting together a gorgeous snare piece on the drums. A single continuous solo on the snare meant to be in a drum line, but sounding perfectly at place in the quant yet comfortable music room.
He was shocked into awestruck silence, and just marveled at this strange girl that he could never remember seeing once in her life.
He looked closer at her face, trying to spark some memory of her in his head. Bright oak green eyes, shoulder length wavy dark brown hair, high cheek bones, pink lips, blushed cheeks, slim, tall, no makeup; altogether a very simply gorgeous girl.
And there it was: the single memory of her he was waiting for. It was in PE, when coach had called out to him. They had both walked over to him, and they realized that they had the same last name, a very common and boring one. Brown. He had always hated his last name, but on this particular girl, he saw it differently; it fitted her, and gave her an elegant simplicity that was unbearably attractive. It seemed like every aspect of this girl was unbearably attractive.
She finished her solo, and still did not look up to catch him watching her. She was writing down something, more than likely the notes to the song, obviously deep in thought; she was biting her lip in concentration in the cutest way. He wanted desperately to go up to her and speak to her, as he would have done to any other girl easily, but he didn’t because this girl was not like the others. She was different, worth taking his time with, worth just simply sitting back and watching her for a while. And that was exactly what he was going to do.
He carefully slipped out the door, quietly, thoroughly intent on seeing this girl with the same last name as him again.
It was hard for him to ignore her in the halls these days; he seemed to see her now everywhere he turned. He sometimes would suddenly turn around in class and find her eyes lingering on his face, than quickly sliding away, her cheeks blushing a deep red. With each time that he caught her looking at him, his feelings for this girl that he had never even spoken to grew. And the fear that they would not be compatible once they actually spoke grew along with it; this was what held him back, what stopped him from speaking to her.
And there she was, sitting in the music room, pounding away on her drums, her dark brown hair covering her face like a curtain, yet again. He slipped in the door quietly as he done every day since that first time, and took in the show. This time her beat was slower than the rest, and by far the softest. And the sweetest; it was the sweetest piece of music he had ever heard. Who knew that drums could be soft and sweet?
And that was what gave him the confidence to speak to her. That slow melodious beat of the drums gave him the confidence to step right up to her during her gorgeous solo, and finally speak the words that he had been dying to say to her.
His steps seemed to echo around the room as he took his steps closer to her, and yet she still did not raise her head. Heart pounding, hands clamming, he spoke.
“Hey, there, my name’s Dakota. I just wanted to tell you that your drumming is absolutely amazing. I’ve heard you play a couple of times. What’s your name?” Like he already didn’t know her name.
Her beats faltered, and then ceased. Slowly, ever so slowly, she looked up at him, with a look of strong disbelief in her eyes. He didn’t know what thoughts were running through her head, but her lips twitched up into a shocked smile, bringing a dazzling light into her eyes. She couldn’t believe what was occurring right before her eyes; she felt like she was having an out of body experience watching it all play out from above. She watched herself answer with a confidence that she had never before seen in herself.
“Hi, Dakota, my name’s Brigie. Brigie Brown.” She gave him a dazzling smile.
He matched her smile and said, “Yeah, actually, I know. I remember that time in PE when we both walked over to Mr. Miller.” He laughed softly, almost to himself, just remembering that moment when their lives had first crossed paths, but he had not seized the chance to strike up a conversation with her. What a waste, he thought to himself.
“Oh, yeah. That was kind of embarrassing,” she said blushing a little bit.
“Oh, don’t worry, I thought it was funny,” and unbearably cute and ironic. “Anyways, I’ve seen you play drums a few times, and you’re really good. Actually, forget that, you’re beyond really good. You’re absolutely amazing.” And as he said those words, he said them with such a great sincerity; she knew that he meant them. She also knew that he was no longer talking about her drumming skills, and her heart began thrumming in her heart like a butterfly trying to escape.
Of course, a new wave of blushes came on, and she said, “Oh, well, thank you, but I’ve never actually showed anyone that I could drum. Not even my parents. I just sort of taught myself, here, actually.” Why was she telling him this?
He was blown away.
“Whoa. That’s really cool, Brigie. How did you do it?”
And that was that. The conversation flowed easily, and they were off. It was like a space ship had rocketed off from Earth, and it just kept getting higher and higher up, until they were finally in space, all alone, together. They were together. And, in there hearts, they knew that it would always be that way.
A week later, Dakota asked Brigit out on an official date for the first time. They went to dinner and a movie (typical, yet cute). Dakota was a perfect gentleman, and at the end of the date, he gave her a goodnight kiss. And suddenly they were soaring, flying higher, reaching incredible heights. And they were together, and they always would be.
The news that Dakota Brown was dating someone who almost no one knew was struck the school hard, and left more than a couple of girls broken-hearted, but Brigie didn’t care anymore; Dakota was hers and she was madly in love with him.
Months passed, and they were happy. They spent almost every minute of everyday together. They met each others parents, and it all went flawlessly. People at school began to get over their relationship, and they were finally alone to enjoy each other without people bothering every other minute. Months passed, and they were happy.
And then, suddenly, graduation day came, quicker than expected. The day was bittersweet, and it was the day that Brigie’s and Dakota’s lives would head off in separate directions; it was the day when they would have to leave each other. There last conversation was nothing much, but it rang out with pain.
“So this is it, huh?” Dakota said.
“Yeah, I guess so. This is so strange.”
“I know, right?”
“I don’t think I can do it.”
“Do what, Brigie?”
“I can’t leave. I can’t leave you. I – I cant.”
They didn’t fall into each other’s arms, they didn’t start crying; Dakota simply gently wrapped his hand around hers, for the last time.
“I’ll see you next time?” He whispered to her.
“I’ll see you next time.” She whispered back.
And they walked away from each other, forever.
There wasn’t a next time. They never saw, or spoke to each other again. It was like there relationship had just been one big dream that they had left behind in high school. But they never forgot each other; almost every single day, they would both remember each other, and think to themselves, I wonder what happened to them. I wonder what would have happened if we stayed together.
They never had the chance to ask each other.
Until one day, so many years later, they could barely recognize each other. There they were, standing inside a music store, Brigit looking at the drums, Dakota over by the guitars. They bumped into each other. Typical. Just a typical story.
“Brigit? Brigit Brown?”
“D – Dakota? Is that really you?”
“Of course it’s me!”
They fell into each others arms then, as they should have done so many years before.
“I haven’t seen you in years! Dakota, I’ve missed you so much.”
“Me too, Brig, me too.”
They could both see it immediately: after all of those years apart, the connection was still there, and burning strong; it was like they had never even left each other.
“I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since high school. We were such good friends back then…”
“Yeah, back then…”
And that’s when it hit them both: times had changed. Although their feelings for each other hadn’t changed, their lives were so completely different now, and there was no going back to the days in high school.
“What happened to us?” He whispered softly.
“I don’t know, Dakota. I honestly don’t. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be?” But they both knew that it was a lie.
“What do you do, Brigie? What’s you’re job?”
“I’m a writer, Dakota.”
“You – You’re a writer? But what happened to your music?”
“I stopped playing a long time ago; it wasn’t right for a real job.”
This isn’t the Brigie I know, he thought to himself.
“What about you?”
“Art. I’m an artist.”
“Really?” She grinned from ear to ear and said, “That’s amazing, Dakota. I always knew you were going to do something creative.”
“Brigit?” He said abruptly
“What is it?”
“Did you love me?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Yes. I did. I loved you so much, Dakota.”
“Loved? Past Tense?”
She paused, thoughtfully, and said:
“No. I still love you, Dakota.”