Like Spring in Winter
Kaylin notices the butterflies first. Black, swooping arches spiraling up from faint scars on the brown inner wrist of the customer before her. She takes the credit card, and looks up into unexpected green eyes of the woman who tells her to write Lyss on her cup. Kaylin knows what those scars mean. She’s seen that self destructive hate in textbooks and in case studies too many times in her psychology semesters to not know. She writes Lyss on the limited edition green cup and hands it to her coworker. Lyss, Alyssa according to her credit card, goes to the other end of the counter. Kaylin is so curious that it hurts. Why does this woman echo in her memories? Why does she know her?
Kaylin is also bored at work so that doesn’t help either. She deals with more customers, some of them regulars, a few of them not. She watches as Lyss gets her vanilla latte with two pumps of hazelnut and settles down in a plump red chair. Lyss pulls out a small laptop. It’s a Macbook Air, Kaylin can tell even though Lyss has decorated it liberally with stickers. There’s stickers declaring everything from Lyss’s interest in anime to writing to Black Lives Matter. There’s only one university nearby, and it’s the one Kaylin goes to. What major is Lyss? Is she even a student? Is that how she knows her?
“You’re staring,” Josh mutters as he edges past her to place a sold out sign over their peppermint lattes on the board. Kaylin can’t help it, but she decides to ignore Lyss and instead focuses back on...nothing. There’s not much to focus on. She still has another two hours on her shift. Josh seems to realize this so he tells her to go straighten up. Thankfully they seem to have slowed down for the moment so she takes a rag and gets to work.
If that work takes her closer to Lyss’s area as she works from table to table then so be it. Lyss doesn’t seem to notice her. She’s engrossed in whatever is in her screen. As Kaylin clears off a table next to an irregular regular, she notices another tattoo on Lyss. This one is on the back of her neck. It’s a semicolon, small and discrete but there for anyone to see. The irregular draws her into a conversation and she stops wondering about Lyss for a moment.
“They’re hanging up the Christmas lights already,” he grumbles.
“Mhm,” she says. It’s one of her job’s official policies that she’s not allowed to complain while on the clock. He knows this but he seems to find pleasure in trying to make her slip. She’s glad that he comes on an irregular basis. This limits their interactions, even if it makes him unpredictable.
“I’m glad you guys haven’t taken the Christ out of Christmas yet! I appreciate the red cups. Not too fond of the green ones.” He had came just as Kaylin had switched over to the red cups for the day. He’s lucky that she had. Kaylin thinks she’s lucky that she had. “What do you think, young lady?” the irregular asks but his question is directed at Lyss who is reaching for her latte which must be mostly gone by now.
Lyss looks startled to be dragged into a conversation. Kaylin is sorry that she has been but they’re both trapped now. This man is that type of man, after all.
“I’m sorry,” Lyss says. “What are we talking about?”
“The green cups or the red cups. Which do you like better?”
Lyss looks at her green cup, and then at the man’s red cup. She looks at Kaylin who gives a helpless shrug. It’s the official policy to not really voice an opinion that might reflect negatively on the company after all.
“I appreciate their attempt to show how diverse society is with the green cups,” Lyss says. She looks at her cup, and a slow smile blossoms on her lips. “I like it a lot, actually.”
The man huffs, and shakes his head, muttering something like, “You young people.” He thankfully turns back to his newspaper, and Kaylin picks back up her rag.
“So, I have a question,” Lyss says as Kaylin wipes up the table opposite her group of armchairs. “If you find it weird, you don’t have to answer.”
“Go for it,” Kaylin says. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Did you take John Cooper’s Mythology and Realism last fall? Your face seems familiar to me.” Lyss rests one hand against her stomach, and the other lightly on her computer. Kaylin remembers that class vaguely. It had been last year but she had gotten a B+ in it.
“I took it! Did you?”
“I tried to,” Lyss says. “Some things happened… anyway, I was trying to place you. That’s where I knew you from! I was only in the class for like… the first eight weeks or so. Half the semester.”
“Oh, I was trying to do the same. You seemed familiar but I couldn’t place you.” Kaylin takes a seat on the armchair next to Lyss. “Yeah, I took his class for my English elective. I only managed to get a B+ in it. He was a hard grader.”
“The English professors tend to be,” Lyss laughs. “I know I cried when I got my first A in one of his classes and he’s my advisor!”
“Oh, so are you an English major then?”
Lyss nods, “I’m a Literature emphasis.”
“Oh, that must be hard.”
“Everyone always says that! But it’s not really since I find literature interesting.”
“That’s me with psychology. Everyone thinks I’m weird for wanting to be a psychologist, but that’s what I’m interested in.”
A shutter seems to come over Lyss after she says that. “Oh, you’re a psychology student?” Kaylin notices that she seems to turn the wrist with the butterflies towards her body. Kaylin hates this reaction. She knows that people like Lyss can’t help it, but she hates it all the same. She hates that mental health system has created a fear towards people like her. She wants to help, but how can she help? She’s not looking to fix Lyss, she just was curious.
“Yeah, I’m about to graduate undergrad in May. I’ll be doing my residency here since I got accepted into the graduate program.”
“Ah, I see.” Lyss is still tense, and Kaylin can’t blame her. Lyss is shutting down, and Kaylin doesn’t know what to do or say to fix that.
“I…” Kaylin hesitates for all of five seconds before continuing, braving on even if it’s risky. “I wanted to do this because of what I experienced myself growing up with mental illness.”
Lyss blinks at her. “I’m sorry?”
“I’m going to be a psychologist because I want to help teenagers who struggled like I did growing up. Do you know the movement um,” Kaylin pauses as Josh is looking at her, and she hurries to finish talking, “that one movement for girls who self harm?”
“I think I know what you’re talking about.”
“I want to do it because that saved me, and because I lost a friend to suicide when I was seventeen. So… that’s why I’m doing it. Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all that on you. Ah, I gotta get back to the counter. If you want a refill lemme know.”
Lyss smiles, that slow smile that Kaylin is starting to like. “Are there refills on lattes?”
Kaylin winks, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Lyss laughs, and Kaylin goes back to the counter with a grin. Josh shakes his head at her.
“You’re so gay,” he mutters. “Get back to work.”
“Aye, aye captain.”
The English Department is housed in a lone stone building that is a monument to times gone by. Like the Philosophy Department they have fought hard and argued against remodeling and destroying their homes. They have won for the most part. Progress marches on, and the rest of the university gets modernized as those two buildings stay behind as testaments of times gone past. Kaylin rarely has reason to go to the English Department’s building or the Philosophy Department’s for that matter. She is in the more modern area of campus.
However, the Literature Club and the LGBT group on campus are holding a reading in the basement of the English Department’s building, or as it’s better known, the Lake House. There used to be a lake on campus, and the English house was right next to it. Due to changes, the lake is no longer by the English Department. The name is just a relic as the lake is a parking lot for the ever expanding school. The lake was moved (because such a thing is possible in this modern age) to a more fitting location, just outside the administrative buildings for new students to see first thing. To be fair, it was never really a lake. It was an artificial pond.
Kaylin settles down in on a loveseat. As a member of the LGBT group, but not part of the executive board due to impending graduation, she has a rather lot on her plate. There’s a fire in the fireplace due to snow falling outside. The lights are low and dim, and she can’t tell if that’s to fit the mood or lack of funding for proper heat in the building.
“Oh, you’re here too!” Kaylin feels like butterflies are in her chest as she hears Lyss. Kaylin had been afraid that the other woman would never want to speak with her again after that day. Yet, Lyss looks delighted to see her. Lyss’s natural hair has been braided up and a flower crown adorns her hair. She looks like spring. Lyss’s eyes are blue today, and that’s when Kaylin realizes Lyss wears contacts.
“Yeah, I’m part of the other group.”
“Are you part of the LB or T?” Lyss asks, looking curious.
“Just the L.”
Lyss settles down next to her on the couch, “I’m the B part.”
B for bisexual, which means that Kaylin has a chance. If she ever had a chance. Lyss is still smiling at her, and she is welcoming her to this event and she doesn’t need to do so. So, Kaylin will not look at this in the wrong light.
“So you’re part of the literature club?” Kaylin asks.
“Oh? Oh no. I don’t have any time for that. If I want to graduate in May I have to buckle down and study! I’m taking like 21 hours this semester it’s murder.”
“Do I even want to know how many of those are literature courses?” Kaylin asks with a laugh.
“No, no you do not.” Lyss sighs, shaking her head, “My advisor thinks I can do it, and I really want to walk across that stage in May, so here we are.”
Kaylin nods, “I hope you can do it.”
Lyss smiles back at her, “I hope so too.”
They fall into talking, and the conversation stays lighthearted. Lyss introduces her to the president of the Literature club and Kaylin introduces her to the president of the LGBT club. Lyss’s tattoos are hidden for the most part by her sleeves as are her scars. Almost all of them but the semicolon. Kaylin is still so curious, she still wants to know so much, but she resists. It’s not her place. It’s not her right. That has to be earned. Trust has to be freely given.
The readings go well for the most part. Some people stumble over their words. A few people seem overcome with emotions and can’t manage to finish. Some people read in Spanish, and to her surprise Lyss seems to understand it. Kaylin grew up speaking Spanish and Mandarin, but Lyss didn’t seem like she would have known Spanish.
“You know Spanish?” Kaylin mutters.
“Mom’s from the Dominican Republic and Dad’s from Louisiana. I can speak some Spanish and some creole French. I’m minoring in Spanish.” Kaylin feels herself being won over bit by bit the more she learns. Lyss is so much more than just some broken girl and Kaylin wants to treat her as that. She decides to ignore the tattoos and what she thinks she knows.
“My mom’s from Mexico and my dad is Chinese,” Kaylin explains. “So I can speak a bit of both their languages.”
Someone shushes them, and they laugh, and apologize. Soon the readings are over, and by silent, mutual agreement, they make their way outside. The snow has fallen sweetly on the ground. It kisses the holly trees and makes the berries glisten. Kaylin has never wished for mistletoe as much as she does now at that moment.
“This was such a nice reading,” Lyss says. “I always like coming to them.”
“I didn’t see you at last years.”
“I was…” Lyss sighs and unfurls her scarf. She rewraps it around her neck, and then looks at Kaylin. Her blue eyes are like ice, so bright in the cold, white world. “I was in the hospital during that time.”
Kaylin has misstepped yet again. She doesn’t know how to fix her mistake. Lyss takes pity on her, and takes her ungloved hand in her own gloved on.
“You must be cold. Why aren’t you wearing gloves?”
“They’re in my car.”
“I’ll walk you to it.” Lyss says. Kaylin doesn’t argue and Lyss doesn’t let go of her hand.
They’re silent for a moment, and then Kaylin starts towards her car in the parking lot. No one else has left as early as they have, so it’s almost like they are in their own wintery world. Her silver car is coated with snow, and her keys jingle in her pocket. They pause and Lyss lets go of her hand as she tries to unlock her car. Her hand shakes too much and she stops for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” Kaylin says. “I keep bringing up stuff you don’t want to talk about.”
“It’s not that I don’t wanna talk about it. It’s just difficult. How do you even begin to explain that to someone and have them not think you’re crazy?”
“I won’t think you’re crazy. I just want to know you’ll be okay.”
“You don’t even know me,” Lyss says.
“I know,” Kaylin says. She looks at Lyss, and Lyss looks back at her. “I know that, but I want to get to know you. Can we try being friends?”
Lyss touches her hand. “You don’t really want to be my friend.”
Kaylin looks at their hands. Her hand is completely enclosed with Lyss’s hand. Her tawny beige skin is so much lighter than Lyss’s russet brown skin. She barely knows this woman. All Kaylin knows is Lyss has a smile like spring. She has long wavy black hair. She can speak multiple languages. She likes literature. She likes vanilla lattes. She likes apple products over anything else despite the cost. She got teary eyed when someone read a piece from I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. She has self harmed. She has butterflies on her wrist. She has a semicolon on her neck. She wants to graduate in May. Kaylin realizes that she knows a lot more about this woman than she thought she did.
“I know enough to know I don’t want to be friends with you, you’re right,” Kaylin says. Lyss smiles, a quick thing that feels more like a promise of spring than full blown spring. Yet, it’ll do. It’ll do. “I want to know all I can about you. Can we try dating?”
Lyss leans in close, gloved hand coming up to press against Kaylin’s shoulder. “Even knowing what you think you know?”
“Are you at risk tonight?”
Lyss’s blue eyes look so warm as she shakes her head, “No.”
“Then yes, I want to try.” Kaylin laughs, “I really want to try.”
Lyss kisses her. It feels like spring in winter.