Nondescript

To your first love, your third love, and your true love.

*He briskly opened the first set of doors. She heard his footsteps but continued a feigned fascination with the book in front of her. However, she slipped a seductive thumb over her lips, just for good measure. He peered through the glass in the second set of doors, nearly dropping his ID at the sight of who was behind the desk. He caught glimpse of her thumb sliding from her bottom lip to her neck and continued to watch as his heart ached with yearning. He messed up. He knew he messed up.*

Anne’s job was neither glamorous nor filthy. It was simply nondescript. Some of her roommates wasted their hours behind the counters of retail stores, dealing with finicky customers and tiresome cash registers. She, on the other hand, sat behind a desk, reading the latest bestseller, and swiped the ID cards of the dorm hall residents, permitting them to enter their hall with a quick push of the bottom on the side of the wall.

A glorified receptionist; that’s all she was. She could pass it off on résumés and to eager relatives that she worked as part of campus security. But, in the end, all she did was press a button to unlock the main door.

*She quickly switched to feigning a mild surprise at the sight of him, as if she expected to never run into him tonight. But her eyes were pleading. There was nothing she could do to mask that. They were always pleading when he was around.

“Oh, hey!” he tried to nonchalantly give his salutations, “Working here tonight?”

“Yup,” she answered curtly, “’til 2 a.m.”

“Wow, that’s -- that’s horrible,” he leaned against the top part of the counter, but didn’t hand her his ID. She quickly brushed back her bangs as if flinching. “So…how’s things?”*

Every aspect of her job was nondescript. The hours were passed with idle reading, or scattered studying for classes. Sometimes, if she were feeling up to it, she’d bring her laptop and pass the time with solitaire. Nothing exciting ever happened during her shifts: no fights, no fires, no belligerent drunks desperately trying to start trouble until the police showed up.

Even the people were nondescript. She hated it when students returned to the hall, stating, “You let me in 5 minutes ago. Do you remember me? Can I go back in?” She felt that she had no choice but to disobey the rules and say yes; for she felt rude in saying she could not remember them, not in the least. They were just temporary faces, memorable for as long as she held their ID. People came and people went. None of them stayed in her memory.

*“I…I’ve been fine,” she laughed and looked at the desk for support. “How about you?” Her eyes darted up to connect with his.

“Oh, you know, the usual.” He looked at the wall behind her. She mouthed an oh and they stayed there in silence. He coughed. “So, um, how’s the boy?”*

The hours passed at a reasonable enough pace, if she had the right time-wasting items with her. Sometimes she’d be assigned a busy dormitory and the hours would slip right past her. She enjoyed the time to herself. Being forced to sit in one area with nothing to do and no one to let in for as long of a stretch as an hour allowed her to think; to lapse into memories and fantasies; to, for an all too rare moment in her life, relax.

It was already 10:30. It would be a while before students would start herding in, ready to call it a night.

*“You mean my boyfriend?” She asked, her voice shooting more darts than she had planned. “He’s good. Our 6 month is next week.”

“Ah.”

“You know, he is so amazing,” she continued on, pretending to gaze into nothing, “First guy to really treat me with respect, you know? I mean, he was the first guy to really take a chance on me. I mean, heck, before that I was dubbed ‘Queen of the Short Term Relationship’ for a reason. Guys would start up a relationship with me and then, just months later, leave.”

“Oh.”

“And some didn’t even bother with the relationship part in the first place.” Her voice dropped an octave.*

The end of the year was approaching. With the exception of studying for finals, she had nothing to kill time. An old stack of newspapers danced at her feet. She grabbed the top one and instantly pulled out the comics.

People were slowly starting to return home. Many brought with them a guest. Some brought romantic guests. They would display their affection for each other almost as ostentatiously as the resident displayed their guest’s driver’s license, requesting them to be signed in. Anne quickly scribbled their names down on the sheet and pushed the wall button, teeth clenched with envy. But, as they disappeared into the hall, their faces blurred into obscurity, to where she wouldn’t recognize them if they passed by again.

“Do you remember me?” One amorous girl asked with wide eyes as she entered the lobby with a boy in tow. “You signed in my boyfriend 15 minutes ago. Can we just go in?”

“Oh…” Anne felt struck back, “Oh yeah.” She pressed the side button and watched as they walked right back out of her memory. The memory of her to the couple also quickly faded, overwhelmed by the concept of each other.

*He let out a cough, as if she had just slugged him in the stomach.

“I’m, I’m happy for you,” he managed out, “you deserve it.” She took in a hard swallow.

“You do know, never once did the idea of a relationship ever leave my mind.” Her words were slow and precise. Her eyes remained drawn to his.

“I just…I wasn’t ready.” He breathed out, “to be, you know committed…”

“– To me.” She finished his sentence. “Why start a relationship when it’s easier just to have her on the side? Do you know how selfish that is?” She waited for her words to sink in, or for him to respond. He kept his eyes cast to the ground.

“I thought if I stayed around, you’d realize what the fuck was in front of you.” She kept herself from getting too hysterical. “And at one point I realized there was no use. I was beating myself up over nothing.”

She took in a breath. “I wasn’t going to wait around forever.”*

She picked up her cell phone. It was nearing midnight. No missed calls; specifically, no missed calls from Chris. There hadn’t been any missed – or received – calls from Chris in weeks. She left him a final message on his voicemail: if he didn’t call her by next week, she’d be available in the dating world again by default.

She took in a long, unsteady breath. Don’t blame yourself, here, sweetie. It’s just another guy who lost interest after a matter of months.

*“I didn’t expect you to wait around.” His voice was lifeless. Only a smattering of people entered the dorm hall during their conversation. Even when both became silent, the entering residents could sense the tension.

“And I didn’t.” She quipped. She paused temporarily to let in a resident. “I guess you just missed out.”

“I guess I did.” He swallowed. She let in another resident. “I do, y’no, kinda miss you,” he added as an afterthought.

“You miss what you got from me,” she corrected him. “You never appreciated who I was, or what I did for you.” Her voice grew chillier by the sentence. “And now I found someone who does.”

“I…I’m sorry.” He handed her his ID. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around, somewhere.” She swiped it against the card reader and quickly handed it back to him.

“Enjoy the bachelor life,” she replied smugly and pressed the button off to the side, unlocking the door.*

Kyle briskly opened the first set of doors at around 1 in the morning. Anne desperately tried to keep focus on the page in her book that she had been reading over and over again for the past hour. She raised a shaking thumb to her lips.

“Why, hey there!” he cheerfully greeted as he handed over his ID. “See you got assigned here.”

“Yup, ‘til 2 in the morning,” a statement Anne felt over rehearsed.

“That sucks!” His head nodded with his statement. She could smell the vodka in his breath. “How’s the night going so far?”

“Eh, not too bad,” her voice spat out, “and yours?”

“Oh, the usual,” he casually replied. He clumsily reached over for his ID immediately after she swiped it against the card reader. As he grabbed his ID, his neck bared two large, dark hickeys. Her eyes looked up at him pleadingly, wishing there was something else she could say.

“I’ll see ya around!” he half-heartedly saluted her with his ID. The look in her eyes turned to desperation. Her fingers pushed the wall button. He quickly disappeared into the hall.

Everything about him was etched into her brain: the slightly-glazed over look in his eyes; the scruffy hair; the scattered blemishes on his chin. She kept replaying everything had just transpired. And tears welled up in her eyes because she knew the second he closed the door and walked down the wall, she became just a blurry, nondescript face, instantly lost somewhere in his memory.