Everybody Likes Attention
There was someone outside working the door lock, but a glare from the interior lights shone in the window in the door and he couldn’t see who was there. The door handle turned and a girl came through out of the winter night. The sight of her caught him off guard. She wore glasses and a red scarf and her hair that came down from under her hat was blonde. She was pretty and that was what had caused him pause.
He said hi almost as a reflex. She stomped the snow from her feet and smiled kindly and said excuse me. He hadn’t realized he’d been standing in the way of the stairway up so he stepped quickly to one side as she waited and looked up at him through the tops of her glasses as she went passed. He liked it that her glasses were thick enough to make her eyes look a little odd.
Then he said: “I like your glasses.” He hadn’t meant to say it. He was a little surprised that he had. He saw her head bob up when he said it and she stopped and turned mid-step and said thank you and continued up the flight of stairs that went to the first floor. “And your scarf,” he called after her.
She turned on the first floor landing and smiled genuinely enough and then started up the second flight of stairs.
“You seem nice,” he said as he came up a few steps behind her. “You’re probably in a hurry though.”
She turned and said: “What makes you say that?”
“That you’re in a hurry?”
“That I’m nice.”
He nodded a couple times recollecting what he’d be thinking and said: “I think because your pretty.”
“Because I’m pretty? What about being pretty would give you that idea?”
He stood there and thought for a minute. There was a hint of irritation in her voice. “Nothing. I don’t know,” he said. “It was just a way of giving you two compliments.”
“How so?”
“Because of how you answered.”
“Because of how I answered?”
“Yeah. You could of just said thanks.”
“Yeah. So?”
“Wouldn’t that make you seem a little shallow?”
She watched him without saying anything. He watched her eyes as they searched his face for a clue as to what he meant. There was a tension but it was not unpleasant. Then she said: “Like if I said thanks it’d be like I was agreeing pretty and nice were the same?”
“Yeah. At least that anyways.”
She glanced up at the ceiling. Then she smiled again and started back up the stairs without saying anything.
“Do you like living here?” he asked after her.
“It’s ok,” she answered. She didn’t turn or stop to reply. He was starting to follow her up the stairs again. Then she did stop and turn. “Are you following me,” she said.
He stood with both feet together on one step. “No,” he said. “No, I suppose not.” Then he stepped down a stair and looked up at her. Her glasses made her eyes look very large and dark. He was having a hard time not looking at her eyes standing there very straight and unwavering at the top of the steps like she knew exactly what she was doing. “No I wasn’t following you,” he continued. “I just wanted to talk more and you were walking away.”
She seemed like she hadn’t decided if she wanted to dislike him yet. “What did you want to talk about,” she said.
“Whatever.”
“Just whatever?”
“Yeah. Just whatever. Whatever there is to talk about,” he said and shrugged.
She looked vaguely thoughtful about that but then straightened and said: “I have things to do right now.”
“Ok,” he said. He stood there waiting. She was watching him but he just kept standing there looking a little dumb but not in a way that made her think he was dumb. If he had asked her what she thought she might have said he seemed like he was playing dumb and he knew it was sort of adorable. “Maybe I could call you,” he said.
“On the phone?”
“Yeah.”
“Like it’s the 90s?”
“Yeah, like the 90s.”
“Just to talk.”
“Yeah to talk.”
She came down the steps partway with a corner of her mouth turned up amused and asked him if he had his phone. He took it from his pocket and held it out for her to see. She looked at the phone in his hand and then looked him in the face while he stood there not moving. She shifted her weight to her other leg and kept watching him. There was a thud from somewhere behind them. It was from a nearby apartment. Then someone yelled faintly but that was all. Mostly silence in the apartment building. “Ok,” she said. “Well, you can have my number.”
“Ok,” he said. Then he unlocked his phone and opened a contact file. Before he could do anything else she took the phone from him and put her first name in it and a number to call her by.
“Is this a number to a landline?” he asked. The corner of his mouth was turned up and he scratched the back of his head as he looked at her waiting for a laugh.
She didn’t laugh but her eyes had softened quite a lot. “Don’t call me,” she said. “Just text me. It’s easier.”
“Ok,” he said.
He called her later that night. He thought it was going to go to her voice mail and he thought maybe it’d been too strong of a move. He’d gotten a little anxious because he hadn’t thought it through very well and wasn’t sure how he’d recover their rapport if she didn’t pick up. The phone rang six times. She did pick up but not before the seventh ring. The first thing she said was: “You called.”
“Yeah, I guess I did.”
“I said for you not to do that.”
“Well yeah. Yeah you did say that.” He shrugged too but he was the only one between them that knew it.
“Ok. Well, I don’t really want to talk long. I should probably be going to bed soon anyways.”
“Ok.”
“So what do you want to talk about.”
He laughed a little. “Umm, how long have you been wearing glasses?” he asked.
“Oh my god,” she said. For a second he thought she was going to hang up. He waited. Then she said: “Basically all my life. I guess I got my first pair in elementary school.”
“Me too,” he said.
“Do you know what grade?” she asked.
“Um 4th grade I think. I was kind of excited for them at the time.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I thought they looked cool but I didn’t realize fully that I’d be wearing them my whole life. I don’t know,” he said. “I was a kid. I probably just liked the attention.”
“I can see that.”
“What did you think about your glasses when you got yours?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Probably the same thing. Everybody likes attention at first.”
“Yeah.”
“Then they figure out what it gets them and then maybe you don’t like it so much anymore.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s how I feel about my glasses now.”
“You don’t like your glasses?”
“I don’t know if I’d say that. I just can’t imagine myself without them.”
“Like they’re part of your personality or something.”
“Yeah, it kind of feels like that.”
“Like you can’t quite imagine yourself without them now that you’ve had them for so long.”
“Sort of. Yeah.”
“I’ve thought about getting eye surgery but I don’t know. My eyes are pretty bad. I probably couldn’t get it now anyways.”
“I’m sure you’d still be the same person either way. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah, maybe. People see you differently for all kinds of reasons. It’d probably put me in some sort of early mid-life crisis or something, anyways.”
“It’d be pretty early. You’re not even thirty are you?”
On her side of the line, she looked at the ground and smiled and twisted her hair around her finger.
“You know,” he went on, “we live in the same apartment building. We could talk in person too.”
“Maybe.”
He was thinking of what to say next, then she said: “Okay, but my apartment is a mess and I don’t want to go to yours so let’s just sit on the steps for a bit.”
“Okay,” he said. He waited for her to hang up.
She had her coat and scarf on and her hair pulled up on the top of her head knotted in a mess. Her glasses fell down her nose when she sat and she pushed them back up with a finger on either side of the frame instead of at the bridge between the lenses.
“Good technique,” he said
“What?” she said.
“How you adjust your glasses. It’s a good technique.”
“Oh,” she said. “Okay, thanks.”
“I haven’t sat on the steps to have a chat with someone in a long time.”
“Yeah, me either,” she said. She was hugging her knees and looking at her feet in her slippers. Her slippers had little cats on them with curly whiskers. “It feels like something people would do in high school, doesn’t it?”
“Sort of.”
“I kind of like it though. It’s kind of nostalgic.”
“Yeah.” Then he said: “What do you do for a living?”
End
Do they stay together or don’t they? We’re still at a point where things could fall apart but just as likely they will not and how you read into that reveals something about yourself. Ultimately that is the power of the story. On occasion, saying too much is to rob the reader of their opportunity to learn about themselves by taking note of their own fantasies and projections of how the story can conclude.
