Falling for Her

This is the second part in my ongoing story Strands of Hair. It is recommended to read part 1 before reading this one to have a clearer understanding of what is going on. If you've already read it, enjoy this part.

Conrad would maybe outright deny it, vehemently as well, but the fact of the matter is that he was infatuated with Erin the day he met her for the first time. He was majoring in creative writing, which he had always had a flair for. The only reason he had enrolled in a formal university course was for the structured learning about all the intricate stuff about writing that would take him years to understand on his own. Erin, on the other hand, was studying performing arts, majoring in acting and theatre. They were introduced to each other by Gideon, a mutual friend from her class. They met in the library one day when Conrad was studying the weird philosophies of Nietzsche, and they had come to explore some works of Oscar Wilde.

Erin had no interest in Nietzsche. And despite the tremendous effort Conrad put in for the next couple of hours that day to change her mind, Erin had convinced him in the end that the works of Oscar Wilde held more excitement when it came to learning the nuances of creative writing. She put forth examples and arguments which Conrad simply had to accept as correct. Gideon sat there looking at their to-and-fro, wondering how on earth he might be able to defuse the ticking time bomb that this debate was turning into. He failed to figure it out.

The librarian came to their desk in person to kick them out, quoting, “go to the auditorium if you really want an audience for your debate.” Gideon played the role of the apologetic and helpless victim as Conrad and Erin escorted themselves out of the library, continuing their banter. Out in the open, after fifteen more minutes of listening to them, Gideon simply decided that he had become invisible and left. It had taken the other two twenty more minutes to realise that Gideon was missing. Keeping the topic of philosophers and poets aside, they came to the agreement that they were experts on getting people bored enough to leave without saying goodbye. The mutual laughter that ensued then lasted for over two minutes. Conrad called Gideon and put the phone on speaker. They both apologised for getting thoroughly carried away and forgetting him completely.

“I will try my best to spend time with only one of you at a time. Both of you together is too much for my puny brain. Are you guys sure you’ve not met each other before? I wouldn’t be surprised to receive an invitation to your wedding next week.” Gideon said, wheezing with laughter after each word. “I’m kidding, obviously, but that is the vibe I got from you two today.”

“Really bro—”, “This guy, never!” Conrad and Erin said respectively, simultaneously. Gideon hung up with a loud laugh. They parted ways soon after that, but not before exchanging numbers, following each other on instagram and facebook.

Sleep was a chore for Conrad that night. Parts of the conversation with Erin kept playing repeatedly in his mind until three in the morning. After that, he fell asleep only because of the mental exhaustion. No, he had not acknowledged or even realised that he was attracted to her as more than friends. It was simply too early for that. But he had to acknowledge and admit that he couldn’t remember a time or person when he was so passionately drawn to a conversation as intense as that. Being of the creative type, he always found familiarity with people who were passionate about things that they were talking about. But Erin stretched that scale a little longer and put a notch at the farthest end as far as Conrad’s impression of her was concerned.

Conrad didn’t meet Erin or Gideon for two weeks after that. He was simply too busy writing. The occasional good morning and what’s up on WhatsApp didn’t grow much beyond just that. That one debate with Erin had sparked his interest in the works of Oscar Wilde. He read continuously, voraciously, found inspiration, and wrote with a strange kind of vigour that he had never felt before. By the end of the fortnight, he had half of a manuscript for a little story he called The Lady with the Grey Handbag. It was a mystery drama about a lady who discovers her love for photography through the happenings in her daily life as a valet driver and part time waitress at a posh hotel. But she gets caught up in a swirl of mystery when she finds the picture of a murdered woman in her collection. It was one of the last pictures of the woman in question. The composition was not entirely inspired from the works of Oscar Wilde, but the style could definitely be traced to his works.

When the first draft of the story was complete, he felt an undeniable urge to show it to Erin. After all, she was the one who had made him see the brighter side of the history of literature. The sun was about to set and it was getting dark outside when he called her on the phone.

“Hey!” Conrad said into the phone when Erin picked up. “What’s up Ms. Wilde-is-better?”

“Mr. Nietzsche-makes-sense, is it?” She said, “I thought you dropped out of the uni just like your friend.”

“What?” Conrad said, unable to make the connection.

“What?” Erin mirrored, unable to place his surprise. She recovered faster than he did though. “You didn’t know Gideon dropped out?”

“Not at all. When did this happen? Why did this happen?”

“Kind of a long story.”

“Oh! I actually called to ask whether you’re free this afternoon. I wanted to show you something I’ve been working on. I was hoping you’d be able to give me a little more insight as the style is inspired from Wilde. But I guess I need to hear that long story about Gideon before anything else.”

“Sure. But I’m not big on narrating long or sad stories on the phone. Can you meet me at the west side bench near the red-stone fountain?”

“The one near the observatory?”

“That’s the one.”

“Okay, see you there in—” Conrad looked at the clock on the table by his bed. “Twenty minutes?”

“Fine with me.”

Conrad was confused. Did Gideon really drop out of the university? Why did he do it? Why did he not tell him? Why did he tell her? Why did she not tell him? All these questions popped into his mind in quick succession. And for each one of them, there was no logical answer that he could think of. He decided the only calm way to handle it would be to go and meet erin.

Erin had reached before him at their designated meeting spot. And from the distance, Conrad felt a momentary hitch in his step. She had her hair in a high ponytail, which fell down to the middle of her back. He remembered it longer from their previous meet up. She must have got a haircut recently. The pink top with frilled sleeves looked nice on her, and the jeans she had on fit snugly to her legs. Conrad waited a whole minute before approaching her, sub-consciously deciding to stand back and admire the way the afternoon sun made her hair glisten.

“You are quite easy to spot from a distance.” Conrad said when she turned, hearing him approach.

“Really? And why is that?”

“There aren’t many beautiful women out and around today.”

“Is that a pick-up line?” She asked with such a blank expression that he had to pause and compose himself before speaking again.

“No.” He said, nodding sincerely. “No, that was a genuine compliment.”

“Good.” She smiled, “because if it were that, it would be a little creepy. Especially considering we are meeting to talk about your friend’s sudden departure.”

“Yeah. Right. So, what happened? Where did he go?” Conrad said, sitting beside her as she scooted over to the edge of the bench.

“To answer your questions—I don’t know and I don’t know. A week ago, he didn’t come to class, right when we were supposed to have an important session. It was odd, since a few unwell students attended virtually, it was that important. The next day too he was not there. So I went to the professor after class and asked him, since he keeps a close track of everyone’s attendance. He told me that Gideon had dropped out of the course and university.”

“Whoa! That’s weird.”

“It gets better. Or worse, depending how you look at it. The reason he put in his dropout letter was, and I’m quoting like professor Graham did to me—‘something came up!’ and before you ask, yes, I tried his phone. Several times. First couple of days, it went to voicemail. Then, out of service.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m really really sorry. To be honest Conrad, and it’s really embarrassing to say, it didn’t cross my mind until you called me this afternoon. I know that’s a terrible thing to say, but we had met only that one time and I kind of forgot you in between the stuff that’s going on and Gideon’s sudden and inexplicable drop out. I really am sorry, Conrad.”

Conrad was hurt, but Erin’s reasoning was also logical. Just because he had found their interaction the other day as two gears clicking perfectly together didn’t mean it would be like that for her as well. For all he knew, she might have a lot more interesting people as her friends than him. He forgave her. “It’s alright. It’s a shock for me too. I would have found out on my own sooner or later when I would have called him. I must say though, it is very unlike him, given how well I know him for the last two years.”

“I’ve known him for about eight months now, and it was very very surprising for me too. Can you believe he has closed his WhatsApp and Instagram accounts too. I’ve sent him tens of messages. No reply. And now the messages won’t even be delivered.”

“Wow. That’s… I don’t even know what to say anymore.” Conrad turned away from her. It was two whole minutes of sitting in silence before the weight of the situation hit him like a flying plank in a storm. Gideon had left. Without telling him, without giving him the slightest bit of hint. For a split second, he had a strong urge to weep, like a little kid who had just discovered that imaginary friends aren’t real. Then his resolve came back. “I guess we’ll just have to accept that he didn’t find it necessary to tell us.” Conrad turned to her.

“That’s a rude way of going about it. Jumping directly to the fifth stage of grief.” Erin said, looking at his face.

“What else are we supposed to do? It’s not like he’s giving us much of a choice here.”

“How is it so easy for you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Letting go of people.” Erin said very quietly. So quietly, that part of her words were drowned by the sound of the fountain. Without him noticing, she had moved a little closer to him. “The way you talk about just accepting and moving on, without even trying to find closure. It’s a little unsettling.”

“I’m not good at letting people go. It’s just that—” Conrad took a deep breath and sighed. “I think I’m the kind of person who believes that any relationship is a two way street. If Gideon thinks it’s not worth his time to explain his actions to his friends, then what right, or duty do we have to do the same for him? He’s basically freed us from any responsibility we might have had. And even if we wanted to chase him and find reasoning, he’s given us no channel to try. Like you said, his phone is out of service, he’s not getting online, he’s put the vaguest reason on his drop out form, he didn’t care to give me the slightest hint. Not a single call so to speak. Is there any more blatantly obvious sign that he simply wanted to disappear from our lives.”

He stopped speaking when he felt Erin’s hand on his shoulder. He also realised that his voice was loud. He was angry, and the façade of calm that he was trying to put on was failing miserably. “I should go.”

“No.” Erin pressed her hand a little firmly on his shoulder.

“Why?”

“I don’t want you to go to your dorm feeling angry like this.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” He said, jerking his shoulder so she had to move her hand away.

Erin stayed quiet for a short moment. “How about you tell me about what you have written in these two weeks.”

He shook his head. “I know what you’re trying to do. It’s not subtle, and so it might not even work. Either way, my mind is too jumbled up to go there right now.”

“Try. You did bring the backpack with you after all. If you didn’t think we would talk about your writing, you wouldn’t have done so.” Conrad couldn’t remember when he had picked up the backpack with his laptop in it. But it was there, and she had pointed it out. So he thought he might as well take it out and show her.

Over the next forty minutes, he talked about The Lady with the Grey Handbag. He talked about it with pleasure, and slowly but surely, he was back to the calm guy she knew from their earlier meeting. Conrad would indulge into the anger of Gideon’s sudden abandonment later that night, but for the time, he was just a writer happy to tell his friend about something he had written and felt proud of. It was the first time that Erin had successfully settled his mind from wandering too much in the dark. But it wasn’t going to be the last. For the next four months, Conrad would hear this one word, try, from Erin, and he would try. And from that trying, she would solve problems for him, ease the process of finding ideas, and make things light whenever they became heavy for him.

Over the next four months, his attraction towards Erin grew at a steady pace as well. Not because he found her irresistible or anything, but because he started seeing himself in a better light around her. He understood things better, had better ideas, and was in general more happy than when he was in his own solitary company. They talked nearly constantly on instant messaging, and sometimes on the phone. But never once in those four months did he get any signs that she had similar feelings towards him. In fact, he found her getting more and more distant as her rehearsals progressed.

Even on the day of her opening show, he found himself indecisive of whether it was a good idea to tell her about his feelings or not. But after she gave him a new perspective of looking at his new story, he decided it was worth the shot to at least try. Walking back to her dorm holding her hand felt oddly natural to him. It was as if the curtain had finally lifted and a very lovely play had just started.