Hopefully. Most probably. Actually, Yes!

“Sometimes I feel like I am floating, don’t you feel the same?” she asked.

They were both sitting on their usual rock feet dipped in the water. They must have been about ten, a long time ago, but sometimes she still feels the same, like she is floating. And she lies, underneath the ceiling fan on the marble floor and stares at the blades of the fan listening to it whirr as it goes round and round.

She used to do that, they did. The first time they did that together was after Mrs.George made them run around the field twice, because they had forgotten their homework. The both of them. And he ran slowly beside her in the sun, and after, they felt so hot that they lay backs on the cool floor, under the ceiling fan in the classroom. Lightheaded, she felt like she was floating, and he just talked, and talked.

Then they became good friends, and they would sit on the rock during the hot afternoons in the summer, feet in the water and chat. She would start to feel hungry but refuse to go because she was always afraid she would not be able to enjoy the same stories again the next time. So she would sit with him until she started sweating, and was a little lightheaded. Then she would tell him that she felt like she was floating and he would get up and pull her up and make her go home.

He would always walk with her and sometimes her mom would make them bacon sandwiches and she would gobble them up, and lie on the floor under the fan until she feels better. Sometimes he would lie beside her and hold her hand.

She smiled at the thought. Today she was tired, and a little disappointed, and missing a lot of the things she used to have. The little comforts, mom’s cooking, dry and pressed laundry, sliced apples, fresh lemon juice, familiar faces and she slowly lay down on her floor underneath the ceiling fan and closed her eyes listening to the whirring. She was comforted. There was something missing and she did not know what.

An hour passed and she slowly peeled herself off the floor. She got in the shower and stayed there, underneath the big droplets that pushed themselves hard out of the little holes on the metal head. She closed her eyes and laughed.

It was not that they were ever in love or anything. They just grew up together, and with him things were so easy, so natural. It has been years now. They have had their different lives, in different cities with their different loves. He was probably married with children. But today, under the shower he popped back into her head. And she lingered on her thought of him.

She scanned his face in her head. The face she remembered. The dark messy hair, and brown eyes, his dimples and his wide smile. And then when he started getting facial hair, he left it scruffy. For the first time she wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

They were laughing really hard that day, because he made a funny joke and then Derek farted which made them laugh even more. And when she got home they were still laughing, and so they laughed outside. When it started to rain, they sat under the hundred year old pine tree and laughed, drenched. They did not want to go home that rainy afternoon, because they did not know if they would see each other again.

So he held her hand, there under the old pine tree, and they laughed.

He did not come to the airport, she did not think he would. And then that was it, she never went back. She had moved many a times now and today, in her new apartment, alone, under the fan, she missed him. She wondered about him. About them.

She slowly got out of the shower, and quickly dressed. She pulled on her jeans and decided to go down to the grocery store. She had a good feeling about this new town, this new job. Maybe she would meet him, finally, the person that she would know is the one. Maybe, finally, she would be able to have it. That was over a year ago now, and nothing.

As she walked down alone to the grocery store, that faded sparkle, faded a little more. And she allowed her hope to expire. She sighed. All the stories she had listened to when she was just a little girl, suddenly felt like what they were, just fairy tales. Maybe this was it, this was life, her life.

She ran across the street and popped into the grocery store just as it started raining.

He squinted. He scanned her face and something clicked.

Then he smiled, and he laughed a long laugh. A relieved laugh.

She turned to look at he who laughed. She scanned his face. The same familiar eyes, and nose, and dimples, just maybe with crow’s feet and a few wrinkles here and there.

“So there you are,” he said.

Then he held her hand. They bought milk, and other groceries.

“I feel like I am floating,” she said.

She laughed. A hopeful laugh.

And they held hands for a really long time after that.

Hopefully. Most probably. Actually, yes they did.