Honey-Brown
“I blame the quarantine– it’s making everyone think it’s a bigger deal than it really is.”
Jenna looked up through the sunroof at the expanse of black sky above them. Besides the occasional stray grocery bag, the parking lot had been void of all life for hours– a perfect spot for star-gazing. She adjusted her back and tucked her hands behind her head.
“And what if they’re not?”
“Then I guess this is our last goodbye,” Daniel placed a hand over his heart and let his tongue hang out like a dead possum.
“Don’t even joke like that,” she nudged him lightly with her elbow.
“Hey careful, you might infect me!” Daniel winced dramatically in a fake panic. His playful smile glittered in the dark as she laughed. “I should’ve sent you back home all sick and gross when I still had the chance.”
Jenna glanced towards her side door, knowing that her car was parked a few spaces away from them. Thinking about driving back to the city sent a pang of loneliness through her heart. “If this is our last meeting then you’re doing a lousy job of sending me off,” she said with a grin, shaking the thought of her journey home out of her head.
Daniel looked at her for a moment, then propped himself up onto his elbow. “You’re right,” he said, sounding determined. He felt around for his phone and turned it on. “If one of us ends up getting infected– which I don’t think we will– I want to leave you with a final, beautiful moment between us to think about whenever you remember me.”
Jenna watched him fiddle with his phone in the dark, his brow creasing into three distinct lines. She always teased him about those three wrinkles that made his otherwise boyish face appear weathered and mature. His eyes glowed against the light of his screen. Those were the eyes she had to force herself to look away from to avoid embarrassment, eyes that glittered when he saw her and scared her when they grew teary. And looking at them in the dark, she couldn’t remember seeing a more beautiful person in her life.
“Got it,” he said triumphantly and laid back beside her in the driver’s side, looking up through the hole in the roof. There was a moment of silence, then five familiar notes plucked from a guitar.
“You can’t be serious,” she clenched her eyes shut and felt a giggle rise out of her.
“Oh I’m dead serious,” Daniel said curtly, trying to hide the grin stretching from ear to ear. He turned to her with as serious an expression as he could manage and sang out “Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road. Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go . . .”
Jenna’s voice cackled with laughter as Green Day’s infamous “Good Riddance” streamed through his speakers.
“Oh come ON, Danny, you couldn’t have picked a more tacky goodbye song!”
“That’s the point!” Daniel cried out, laughing. “If it’s good enough to send high schoolers off at graduation, then it’s good enough for us!”
“But we could be dying and you chose Green Day ?!” Jenna rolled to face him and gripped her shaking sides, tearing up from the laughter bubbling out of her.
“It’s a classic!” He turned to face her and threw his hand up into the air. “I defy you to think of a better way to say ‘goodbye forever’ than with a heartfelt rendition of ‘Good Riddance’!”
Jenna’s eyes crept open as their laughter turned into breathy snorts of air. She looked at his ears that stuck out just a little too far and his nose that turned upwards at the tip and his eyes– gosh, those honey-brown eyes that looked at her and saw her, drank her in. And she thought of possibly never seeing them again. And her heart twisted into a tight knot that choked her throat and burned her eyes as Green Day strummed their dumb goodbye song.
Daniel’s brow lowered in alarm as he turned the music down. “Hey, you okay?”
Jenna nodded silently in the dark, her gaze unmoving. It had been fun to joke about the virus– helpful even– and the hysteria that had broken out days prior was inherently so silly. But the potential finality of the moment sank down on her shoulders and she felt herself grow smaller in her seat.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Daniel reached over and rubbed her arm soothingly. His touch warmed her in a way she was convinced no one else could, and she hated him for it. Damn his big hands and his cute nose and his beautiful eyes that might shut forever. Damn him for being someone she felt she couldn’t bear to lose.
“Aw Jen, I’m sorry,” he murmured as he shifted his face closer to hers. “I should’ve eased up on the jokes. I didn’t mean to scare you, I really didn’t. Don’t cry, okay? You’re gonna be alright, I promise.”
The world outside the car was still. Somewhere out there, across a highway or a state line or maybe even an ocean, someone was praying. Praying for a cure, maybe, or for guidance, or for luck. But inside the car, beneath a roof of stars, Jenna didn’t feel the need to pray. Her peace was right beside her, holding her by the arm and reassuring her with his honey-brown eyes.
The eyes she stared into as her hand drifted to his cheek. The eyes that glimmered with hope as she leaned in closer. The eyes that slid shut as he pressed his lips to hers, comforting her in the darkness.
Everything about that week said the world was full of killer viruses and panic and devastation and uncertainty. But here the streetlamps flickered, mimicking the stars glittering above the two hungry spirits through the sunroof. Here the universe spun to the sounds of corny Green Day songs. Here the world was drenched in honey-brown.
And this world was the only world Jenna ever wanted.
Elizabeth Sullivan, “It’s 1 AM and Corona’s on my mind.”
