Her Days Were Numbered

Although it happened years ago, I remember it like it yesterday: the staring eyes, the utterly blank faces. I can still feel the absolute terror I felt, as well as the terror of the others.

            “Do you think it will hurt?” one of the others asked me, before the ceremony began. She looked incredibly nervous.

            I wasn’t sure how to answer her without making her more nervous than she already was, so I responded carefully.

            “Of course not, why would someone so pretty ever need to get hurt?” I said, and she giggled. “Besides, even if it did, you’d be surrounded by your friends and family, right?”

            She was still smiling when she replied: “I guess so. Including you, huh?”

            “What?”

            “You said I was surrounded by friends. Including you?”

            I smiled back.

            “Definitely.”

            We parted, and I realized that talking to her not only calmed her nerves, but my own as well. It had never occurred to me, however, that it would hurt…

            I glanced at the clock. Eight minutes until show time, whatever it could be.

            My older brother, who I was very close to, spoke up. He was wise for his relatively young age, and whenever he spoke, everyone got silent. Today, as eventful as it was, was no exception.

            “What did you tell her?” he asked me.

            “Who?”

            “The nervous one…over there. You know, the one who was flirting with you.”

            “She was not.”

            “It’s okay, baby brother. She was cute.” he said teasingly. “What did you say?”

            “I told her that it might hurt, it might not. I mean, it happens all the time, she shouldn’t worry about it. Even if it did hurt, I said she would be surrounded by her friends and family.”

            My brother grunted in satisfaction.

            “Good choice, kid. She probably needed that.” He paused for a moment to glance over at her. “She kind of looks like you, I might add.”

            I glanced over at her, and she was standing in a corner, still looking nervous. When she caught me looking at her, she grinned. I smiled back, and then quickly glanced away.

            “It’s show time, brother.” my older brother suddenly whispered. Indeed, it was, and we began.

            My brother and I were up first, and we marched out, before a sea of uninterested stares and gaping mouths. My pretty friend was marched out next. A divider was placed between us.

            Before the division took place, I allowed myself one final glance at her. She was beautiful, I decided. That was the last time I ever saw her.

***

            Mrs. Clover divided 24 by 2 in front of her elementary school class.

            There was no pain, 2 realized. The other, pretty 2 disappeared with a flash. Under himself and his brother, 2 saw a new number, 12, appear.

            2 was pleasantly surprised…one of his children looked just like their mother.

Finale

Our reconnection had been sudden, like our meeting at my best friend Chloe’s wedding. Our nights together had been small and personal, like the pub. Our breakup had been harsh, like the weather outside. When Harry walked into the pub, tuxedo ruffled, tie undone, hair in wild bunches, I knew that the meeting we were about to have would change our lives forever. He ordered a small black coffee from the bartender and sat down across from me at the small table. We looked into each other’s eyes for the first time in three years.

“Did I drag you away from something important?” I said, gesturing to the tuxedo. I tried smiling a small smile, but it ended up looking more like a frown.

“I’m supposed to get married today, Anna.” Harry told me in a quiet voice. “But, you said you wanted to talk, so let’s talk.”

On cue, the bartender walked into the back (to get more alcohol or coffee beans or something) and the petite teenager on the laptop in the corner left the pub without a word. Both of this was done to give us more privacy. We continued.

“I loved you, Harry. I think I still do. More than you could ever imagine. I know you love me too. But missing your wedding to talk to me, it’s not that important. Why would you do such a thing?”

“I already told Blair about us meeting. We’ve decided to go next week to Las Vegas and do a cheap wedding. Nothing fancy.” he said.

Hearing her name, I could picture Blair and all of the things she had done to me: showing up with one of my exes at my eighteenth birthday party and kissing in front of me, hiring the assassin to go after my politician father, and now taking away my true love, Harry Watts.

“Blair? How could you marry that bitch? After everything she has done to me, to us? She tried to have my father murdered just so her father could fill the final spot in the president’s cabinet. Harry, I love you. I always have. And this whole time, our whole lives, we’ve felt a connection; I know you feel it too.” I said.

I put my hand on his, and he did not shrink away. Instead, he leaned in closer to my face.

“Let’s do the right thing, Harry.” I said, “Let’s go to the chapel in Vegas, let’s forget about Blair and my father and everyone and everything else. It’s time, Harry. We’ve gone through the ups and downs of a relationship so many times…I think we’re ready. Let’s get married.”

And for the final time, we kissed and walked out of the pub, heading for Nevada, heading for a better life. The theme music played us out…

***

“Cut!” the director barked.

As Paul Foreman and Danielle Edwards, who had played Harry Watts and Anna Brown respectively for the past twelve years on the teen-drama “Fish” (or “Freshman” outside of the U.S.) walked off the set, they were treated to applause from the other cast members and crew for a final job well-done.