“‘Tis but a myth,” the wise one said.
She was only wise because she was the only one who had ever gone across the great seas and returned to tell the tale to the young women in the village.
“There are no happy endings. No great desires to be quenched or to believe if you allow yourself to be tied down to that kind of life. Nothing good will come of it.”
We believed her.
Although some had questions and the ones with said questions were usually escorted out of the village in the dead of night—-to where, we dared not ask.
Until the day someone did ask: myself.
“Where do they go?”
“The others?”
“Yes.”
“They’re still here, young one. They’re just returned to how they should be.”
“How can they change back to something they never were?”
“You ask too many questions.”
“I want it back as I remember it.”
“It can never be the way you remember it. Because you don’t remember, you embellish. You desire. You craved something that was not right for you. You needed more time.”
“You had no right to do that to them.”
“I have all the right, my child. As I did to you. Don’t you remember?”

I was on the mat for what seemed like eternity and my neck had serious pain.
Mrs. Humphery stood next to Mrs. Long, one of the school administrators and an EMT with the Reardan fire department, as the two talks back and forth about what had occurred.
“You may have some tenderness for a while, “ Mrs Long said as she took a step towards me.
“Great. Can I get up now?”
Mrs. Long’s radio crackled with a muffled voice on the other end. “She appears to be okay. We won’t need to brace her neck.”
That was a relief to hear, at least.
“Do you need someone to drive you home?”
I shook my head and tried to hide the discomfort I felt from it. “I’m good.”
“We’re going to end practice early, everybody.”
I got off from the mat to a relatively empty gym: just the eight of us.
Good,

I grabbed my books and backpack from my locker. I didn’t care to change out of my practice clothes; just wanted to get home, take a lot of Tylenol and crash into bed—after playing an obligatory of twenty questions with my parents, of course.
The drive home was noisy as I yelled about how my neck felt. I thought the pain would go away if I ranted and raved enough, but, like other events, it only made me dive deeper into what caused the pain. I didn’t want to cry. Because, then I would have had to pull over so my red and tear-streaked face could recover. Otherwise, the questions would double.
I wanted to slam my hand into the steering wheel, but didn’t.
I wanted to floor the accelerator—but a Spokane county sheriff department car passed going the other way.
“Just keep calm. You’ll be home soon and you can just go to sleep. No, no you have a chemistry assignment for tomorrow. I should call-in sick.”

I drove my car up the hill to see another vehicle parked in the driveway.
“Alex,” I whispered as I looked at my face in the rearview mirror “Crap.”
I threw my hands up in submission. Oh well, he could eventually see me looking much more worse for wear so I gathered my things and got out of the car.

I opened the door to the smell of something I could not place. A heavy amount of dill and a meat I could not place. Mom came out from the living room to meet me.
“Jazeta? Good, you’re home early.”
“What’s going on?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just that practice was a little rough, and—You know, I’m going to go up and change and then come back down.” I said as I put my book on the first step on the staircase.
“Okay, you do that and then come meet us for dinner.”
“Us?”
“Alex is here,” she said in a whisper, “and he’s impressing your father.”
“Really?” I replied,
“Yes. Amazing, isn’t it?
“I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

I walked up two steps at a time, opened the door to my room, turned on the light and immediately closed the door. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and wanted to scoff but thought against it. I wasn’t going to put on a show for Alex. I didn’t need his approval for anything.
“Not like I’m Kim,” I said and immediately regretted it. I wanted to shrivel up and die from those words escaping my lips, let alone the thought of them. I felt like the words would drift into the air and into the jet stream where they would find her and deliver their melancholy cargo upon an undeserving ear.
I shook my head, adjusted my hair a bit and went downstairs in the clothes I came home in.
Alex stood in front of the stovetop on the kitchen island. He looked to me with a smile,“Kalispéra ómorfi.”
“Feliz noche.”
“Den miló ispaniká”
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” I replied as I walked on the opposite side of island. “What’s on the menu?”
“Gyros”
“Looks like a taco.”
“That’s what I said too. My grandfather laughed for about three hours about how I decimated Greek culture when I called it a ‘Mediterranean taco’. I don’t know, it would be a name for a restaurant, right?”
I nodded as I looked at my parents sitting at the dining room table.
I glanced at Alex who winked at me. He then turned to my parents. “Almost done, folks. The tzatziki should be chilled by now.”
“Can I help you with anything?” I asked.
“No, thank you. Please have a seat with your parents. I’ll get everything on the table.”
I walked to the other side of the bar end of the kitchen and into the dining room. My parents were sitting patiently with their glasses of iced tea.
“Why are you wearing your gym clothes?” Dad asked.
“Practice was a pain and I just felt like coming straight home. Good thing I did.”
“I suppose so,” Mom replied as she took a sip of her tea.

I wondered if practice had continued, then I would have missed whatever was going on. I also still felt a sharp pain in my neck and my nodding and head-bobbing didn’t help. I wasn’t going to mention anything further about practice. I hadn’t lied. I mean, practice did turn out to to be pain. More so than usual.
“Thank you for making dinner tonight,” I said as we walked off the front porch and down the driveway.
“Well, I thought since I didn’t make a great first impression with her parents, that I’d try to make a literal peace meal kind of thing.”
“You did help bring in the television.”
“And it was a great selection, and pretty heavy.”
“He did appreciate it.”
“I did too. So, I thought I’d come and whip up a little culinary magic and wait for them to either slap me down or give me a second chance. I mean, you’re very important to them so I wanted them to know that you’re important to me too.”
“I’m important?”
“Bad choice of words?”
“You’re forgiven,” I replied as we turned onto the road and walked to the bridge that went over a creek.
“Jazeta, we’ve been talking a lot on the phone and I want to move things up a bit, meet with you more.”
“So there was another reason for the dinner?”
“No, it’s all a part of the same thing. I want to see more of you. Perhaps go out sometime. On the days we’re both off from work and I f you want to.”
“Of course.”
“I mean, Kim says you’re really busy with cheerleading and your modeling job.”
“I can make myself available,” I replied as we stopped in the middle of the bridge.
“For some reason, Kim’s been telling me a lot of things.”
“About me?”
“Oh her too. She loves talking about Tom at work.”
“She just doesn’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Life, I guess.”
“Nobody understands life. We'd like to pretend we do but who are we kidding, really?”
“Are you majoring in Philosophy and computer sciences?”
“No, but the more we talk, the more I think I should,” Alex replied with a smirk.
“I just don’t want her to destroy herself. I mean, she's had this picture-perfect idea of how she'd like it all to be and it's cracking in front of her all at once, only she doesn't know it. Everything’s a little storybook thing to her. And I get to be her pseudo-fairy godmother.”
“So, is he...what’s the best way to say it without sounding like I’m quoting ‘90210’?”
“You mean, is he cheating on her?”
“That sounds better when you say it.”
“Tom has always had more than one girlfriend at a time and Kim knows this! She's known this since we were in eighth grade. It’s not just out of the blue!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. At least not until it finally clicks. She’s not going to accept it from anyone, not even me and that’s—that’s going to hurt.”
“You’ll think of something,” he replied as he put his arm on my waist.
“I don’t think I can because I know who he is, and she knows I don’t like him. So, I will look like the—the-”
“The bitch?”
“Yep.”
“You'll think of a way.”
“I'm a sucker for friendship.”
“We all are. Shows we’re human.”

“We should plan our day.”
“What? No surprise? No mystery?” Alex asked and then put his hands on his face mock surprise.
“I could surprise you.”
“It is the nineties.”
I nodded.
“ “However that would mean I would have to cancel the limousine and the entourage. The DJ I hired, he was difficult to get ahold of.”
“Are you serious?”
“I mean my car, possibly our parents, and I spent a lot of time making a mixtape that you might like.”

I wasn’t sure if he was being sincere or making a joke. I couldn’t read Alex as well as I could Kris. Alex didn’t raise his eyebrows when he was annoyed and he didn’t laugh when he was nervous. Of course, I had been with Kris so long that I could jump to a specific chapter and verse; but with Alex I felt like I haven’t even gotten past the dust jacket.
“I’m kind of kidding. My parents would like to meet you. Only because I talk about you to them, not because it’s some kind of initiation or trial.”
“Oh, but it is a trial.”
“That’s only by the father of the girlfriend and well, yeah. my grandmother too. She would ask a million questions.”
“Really?”
“I’d think you would pass her cross-examination.”
“Good to hear, I replied.
“So, how about this Friday?”
“We have a game.”
“It’s the first week and your school has a football game?”
“Reardan loves football.”
“Then I’ll come to that. I have the night off from work. I can see how you work it.”
“Do not bring a sign.”
“How about a banner?”
“As long as I can burn it before you display it.”
“Fair enough. It can be used for a bonfire. I have a lot of paper I can use.”
“Sure, why not,” I replied.
“We should get back.”
“Yeah,” I replied with a sigh.
“We could stay longer, but I think you’re dad will be down here with a flashlight and shotgun.”
“More likely the rifle, it has a scope.”
“Seriously?” Alex asked with a sharp desperation in his voice.
“Former Army Ranger, yes.”
“I thought you were kidding about that. Does he has a night-sight lens?”
“No idea.”
“Well, I guess we should head back before we’re both on his wanted list.”
“I already am,” I replied.
“It’s just because he’s looking out for you. To fight against the enemy who would swoop down and take you from him. The wedding day will be interesting to see.”
“I’m surprised you’d think about that.”
“I’ve always thought about it. I mean, when I was in eighth grade we were asked to draw out our dream house. I used graphing paper, of course, and designed the house with an above ground pool, arcade games for the kids and I made sure the report about the house included the name of the girl I thought I’d marry one day. I got a ‘C’ on it.”
“Why that grade?”
The teacher said that an above ground pool-one that was literally above some sections of the house, would never work. I really should have referenced that the upper floor was actually the ground floor and some rooms were underground, reinforced by concrete.”
“What was her name?”
“Who?’
“The girl you were going to marry?”
“Well, there’s the girl I was going to marry and there was the vision of the girl I was going to marry. The two became different once she moved away.”
“What does the vision look like?”
“Dark raven hair, piercing eyes and she has the ability to understand everything I say.”
“I’d love to meet her one day,” I replied with a slight grin.
“Did you know she listens to Technotronic?”

I had the slight thought to hit him, but I moved closer instead.
“I wish these nights would never end.”
“They don’t have to, well, one day.”
“A few years ago I would be rolling my eyes about things like this.”
“Are we moving too fast?”
“I don’t think so,” I replied as I looked into his eyes. There was only the lone street lamp on the side of the bridge so his face took on a dark, older look as we stood in the shadow.
“We should head back. I think I can hear a gun cocking.”
“You’re right,” I replied as I looked to the house but then turned back to Alex and started a kiss that lasted longer than it should have, but I missed the touch of two lips; and as much as I didn’t want my brain to conjure up ghosts of boyfriends past, I could not block the torrential downpour of emotions of the past. Maybe Alex thought I was crying tears of joy or of love. I think it was a 30:40:30 ratio of joy, love and of memories so etched into my skull that it would take a sandblaster to wipe the surface clean.