A flight was landing and a line of people was getting off and just as I was about to capture another photo, a boy walked past my viewfinder. A boy who was most certainly not a boy anymore, but a man. A man who I knew was about to turn eighteen, but from this far away and just looking at him, seemed so much older.
Chase Ruthen filled my view and I captured as many photos as I could before he might spot me. He looked like he had been working out. His arms looked bigger and more defined, and I was excited to see the photos and how defined they were. His hair was the same short light brown hair and those eyes were as piercing green as the first day I met him, but the way he stood, so sure of himself, was what really made the difference. He had to have grown at least a foot since I saw him in high school, and I wondered just where I came up to him if we stood next to each other.
I had to stop staring at him before I got caught.
I turned away from where the passengers were entering the airport and brought out my laptop, taking my memory card from my camera and pushing it in to start on these family photo edits.
And quite possibly, edits of Chase.
Those were the photos I pulled up first.
Each one showed that he was looking away from me.
Well, except the first one.
It was like he was looking directly at me, but I didn’t let my mind play tricks on me. It had been just over three years since I had seen Chase. He barely knew me during our freshman year, how would I have expected him to know me now as I was leaving for college?
I felt the hairs on my neck prickle and I turned around, but there was no one there, so I turned back around and continued my work on the boy who had become a man.
My man, even though I had no true claim, but still my Chase.
Chase
I was anxious to get off this plane.
We had been sitting here for at least twenty minutes on the tarmac and I wanted to get out of this cramped space and get to my apartment. I had moved everything in last week, but had to go back home for a garden party at the estate.
When the governor calls you back home, you go.
“Passengers, sorry for the delay, we will be moving to the gate now,” the pilot announced and the whole plane erupted into cheers. I smiled and looked around at how happy just one little sentence made everyone. No one had really complained when we were stuck out here, but you could tell people wanted to get home.
I pulled my bag from under the seat in front of me, not having to have traveled with much for just a weekend at home. Once we arrived at the gate and the go ahead was given for us to leave, I bolted from my seat and made my way to the front of the plane. I wanted to get back to my new bed and sleep.
Tomorrow was orientation at Georgia State University and I was a wreck.
I had looked at so many new colleges as my senior year came up, but for some reason, Atlanta was calling me back and I knew deep in my soul exactly why. I would be in the same town as Erica, plus studying literature and writing. What could I possibly want more out of life?
Actually, I had a lot already. The main reason I got into GSU was my full ride scholarship, for once, not because of my father, but because of the fact my entrance essay was the actual book of poetry I wrote. They had set me up with an advisor immediately and got all four years scheduled out for me. It was a whirlwind of a senior year, but it was worth it to know I would be back somewhere familiar.
Even though I hadn’t ever stayed in Atlanta for long periods of time, it always felt like home to me. Anywhere Erica was felt like home.
I walked through the tunnel to get out of the gate and the first thing I saw when I turned my head was a girl with a camera in front of her face. I knew those features anywhere, even if they were partially hidden. I turned away immediately, not letting her know I saw her.
I wanted to see why Erica was here for myself, but I had no idea if she remembered me, so I didn’t approach. Three years was a long time, especially when it was more toward that four-year mark now. I walked past where she was sitting and then turned the corner and found a seat behind a column near her. I could see her, but she couldn’t see me unless she got out of her seat.
She looked so different, but yet the same. She was the same height when I had left her, but almost all of her hair was gone. Instead of the shoulder-length curls there was a pixie cut that adorned her head with straight bangs that went swiping across her forehead. I loved how it framed her face and her jaw line poked out on the sides, making her whole face a dramatic statement. It was entrancing to look at.
She had turned her back, though, and I couldn’t get a great look at her now, but watched as she worked on her laptop. I sat there for hours and watched her, and at one point I took out my notebook and wrote down everything about her mannerisms. I wanted to write about her now, this girl I was seeing. No, not really a girl anymore, this woman I was seeing. I even took it a little further, snapping a few photos on my phone to use when inspiration wouldn’t strike later down the road. I never had a picture that I took of Erica on my phone, just ones I had stolen off the Internet, but this one was now going to be my background until I could get something better.
I looked down at my phone and then back up at her.
She looked so much more mature than when I knew her before and not that she was a child, though, but now I probably wouldn’t peg her for a girl about to turn eighteen, just like me.
I watched as she worked furiously until a flight was called to board. It had been at least three hours we had been there, her working, and me watching her work. I watched as she packed up her supplies and grabbed the bag beside her. I placed my notebook in my bag and followed a little behind her as she made her way to a gate.
She handed the attendant her ticket and entered the tunnel that would take her to her plane.
I watched with dreaded sorrow, not believing that this could be happening, but yet it was.
