I Am A Heartbreaker

30 minutes till midnight. The calm waves seem eager, although they can’t move an inch to go see fireworks. Wind blows through my thin jacket and the skylights inundate the darkness up above. Big Night. Just the two of us on the frozen sand. Sharp wind dares me to wrap my arms around his waist, but I stop myself. I leave no room for wrong impressions. He takes a long drag then passes me the blunt. Before I know it, I’m in between my legs, coughing, gasping for air. He chuckles. He’s used to this. 15 minutes till midnight, my hand—wearing his black glove—is intertwined in his and we head toward the train. Static runs through that hand. It doesn’t want to be held. I hold on. The warmth reminds me of a fireplace. 10 minutes till midnight, he drags me through a crowd of dark winter coats, the wind blowing fiercely against our bodies. His tall figure takes charge and I impulsively hold on tighter to his hand. 5 minutes till midnight, my entire body begins to relax against his. I fear for not knowing why. I am weightless against another for the first time. Floating in air. I stare into the dark anticipating sky and the hair on his jawbone caresses my right temple. He rocks me back and forth, his hands around my waist. My eyes want to droop. I don’t let them. The crowd begins counting down the seconds until the New Year... “5…4…3…2…1…Happy New Year!” A heavy heart skips a beat against my chest. His head slightly tilts downward toward my face, just in case I’ve changed my mind. But he’s out of luck, and I don’t kiss him.