See Me

  "Really?" Maria said, more a statement than a question.

  "What?" Serena asked, sounding pleased with herself.

  "This is why we came? Because you wanted us to meet?"

  "You're the one who said you never had a chance to thank him. Now's your chance."

  Maria shook her head, amazed. "How did you...?"

  "Colin's in my class." She reached for a bucket of peanuts on the bar and snapped one of them open. "Actually, he's in two of my classes, but we really only met this week. While we were getting to know each other, he mentioned that he worked here and that he had a shift this afternoon. I thought it might be fun for us to drop in and say hello."

  "Of course you did."

  "What's the big deal? We'll be out of here soon and you can head back home and take up knitting mittens for cats or whatever. Don't make this into something that it isn't."

  "Why should I? You've already done that."

  "Talk to him, don't talk to him," Serena said, reaching for another peanut, "it doesn't matter to me. It's your life, not mine. And besides, we're already here, let's just enjoy it, okay?"

  "I really hate that you--"

  "In case you're interested," Serena interrupted, "Colin is actually a very nice guy. Smart, too. And you have to admit, he's kind of hot as far as bartenders go." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I actually think his tattoos are sexy," she said, nodding toward him. "I'll bet he's got some more that aren't visible, too."

  Maria struggled to find words. "I think..." she sputtered, trying to sort through it all and experiencing the same sort of confusion she had on the night she'd first met Colin. "Can we please just have our drinks and go?"

  Serena made a face. "But I'm hungry."

  Colin returned with their drinks and set the foamy glasses in front of them. "Anything else?" he asked.

  Before Maria could decline, Serena raised her voice over the sound of the crowd. "Could we have a menu?"

  Serena pointedly ignored Maria's obvious discomfort all through dinner.

  Still, Maria had to admit that it wasn't as uncomfortable as she'd feared, mostly because Colin was too busy to treat them as anything other than ordinary customers. He mentioned nothing about changing Maria's tire or about his classes with Serena; because of the crowd at the bar, he had barely enough time to keep up with orders. He hustled continuously from one end of the bar to the other, taking orders and making drinks, closing out bills, and getting the waitresses what they needed. In the next hour, the rooftop only became more crowded, and despite the addition of a second bartender a few minutes after they'd arrived--a pretty blonde perhaps a year older than Serena--the wait for drinks continued to grow. If there was any indication that Colin knew Serena at all, it was that their dinner order was taken and delivered promptly, as was a second round of drinks. He cleared their plates moments after they finished and dropped off the bill, which he also closed out as soon as Maria laid down her credit card. Meanwhile, Serena kept up a steady flow of lively chatter.

  There were even moments when Maria forgot about Colin entirely, though from time to time she found her gaze flickering his way. Serena hadn't said anything more about him, but Maria thought he seemed too old to be a college student. She supposed she could ask Serena about that, but she didn't want to give her the satisfaction, since she'd dragged Maria here under false pretenses.

  Despite herself, Maria had to admit that Serena was right about the fact that Colin--when he wasn't bruised, bloody, and soaking wet on a deserted stretch of road--was seriously good-looking. Oddly clean-cut despite his tattoos and powerful build, he had a quick, almost wry grin, and as far as she could tell, all three of the waitresses had crushes on him. So did the group of women at the far end of the bar who'd shown up twenty minutes ago. She could tell by the way they smiled at him as he prepared their drinks and watched him after he'd turned away. Same thing with the other bartender; though she was as busy as Colin, she seemed to become noticeably distracted whenever he reached past her for a glass or a bottle of liquor.

  Good-looking bartenders were common enough to be a cliche, as was the practice of flirting with them, but Colin's reaction to the subtle and not-so-subtle signals surprised her. Though he was pleasant with everyone, he otherwise seemed oblivious to his admirers' attention. Or, at least, he was acting oblivious. As she was trying to decode his motive, another, older male bartender moved behind the bar, partially blocking her view of Colin. Beside her, Serena had her phone out and was texting.

  "I'm letting Steve and Melissa know that we're about done," Serena said, her fingers dancing.

  "Are they here?"

  "They're walking this way now," she said. When Maria just nodded, Serena went on. "He's twenty-eight, you know."

  "Steve?"

  "No," Serena answered. "Steve is my age. Colin is twenty-eight."

  "And?"

  "You're twenty-eight, too."

  "Yes, I know."

  Serena drained her drink. "I figured I might as well mention it, since you've been sneaking peeks at him all night."

  "No, I haven't."

  "You could have fooled me."

  Maria reached for her own drink, feeling slightly buoyant from the alcohol. "Okay," she conceded, "maybe I did check him out once or twice. But twenty-eight is a little too old to still be in college, don't you think?"

  "That depends."

  "Depends on what?"

  "On when he started. Colin didn't start until a couple of years ago, so he's right on schedule. He wants to be an elementary school teacher, just like me. And if you're curious, his grades are probably better than mine. He takes his classes very seriously. He sits at the front of the class and takes ridiculous notes."

  "Why are you telling me this?"

  "Because it's obvious that you're interested in him."

  "I'm not interested in him."

  "You've been making that clear all night," Serena agreed, feigning innocence. "He's definitely not the type you'd ever want to go dancing with. A guy that handsome? Please."

  Maria opened her mouth to respond but closed it again, knowing that saying anything more would only encourage her sister further. In the silence, Serena's phone pinged and she peered down at it.

  "Steve's downstairs. You ready to go? Or would you rather wait here for a bit?"

  "Why? Because you want me to hit on Colin?"

  "He's not here."

  Maria looked up; sure enough, Colin was gone.

  "He was working the afternoon shift, so he's probably off the clock," Serena added, sliding off her stool. She hitched her purse over her shoulder. "Thanks for dinner, by the way. Do you want to walk down with me?"

  Maria reached for her purse. "I thought you said you didn't want me to meet Steve."

  "I was kidding. He wants to be a lawyer, by the way. Maybe you can talk him out of it."

  "Why would I do that?"

  "Do you really need me to answer that question after all you've been through?"

  Maria was silent. Serena, like their parents, knew how hard the last couple of years had been.

  "Still," Serena said, "it's a shame."

  "What's a shame?"

  "I know Colin was busy tonight, but you never did thank him for changing your tire. You might not want to talk to him, but it was a nice thing for him to do that night, and you could have told him so."

  Again Maria said nothing, but as she followed Serena to the stairs, she found herself thinking that her sister was, as usual, right.

  Steve was cute in a preppy kind of way, right down to the plaid shorts and light blue polo that matched his Topsiders. He came across as nice enough, though it was apparent within minutes that he was a lot more interested in Serena than she was in him, since she spent most of her time talking to Melissa. Though Maria chided herself for it as she started in the direction of her car, she found herself envying the ease with which her younger sister seemed to navigate every facet of her life.

  Then again, how hard was life for a
twenty-one-year-old student? College was a bubble that kept the rest of the world at bay. There was an abundance of free time, friends who lived either with you or right next door, and an overwhelming sense of optimism about the future, even if you had no idea as to the specifics of what that might mean. In college, everyone accepted the fact that their lives would turn out exactly as planned, buoying them from one good memory to the next in a cascade of carefree three-day weekends.

  She hesitated, changing her mind. Well, for people like Serena, anyway. Maria's own experience had been different because she'd taken her education more seriously than most--she could remember being way too stressed way too often. In retrospect, she realized that she'd probably spent too much time studying and worrying about exams. She recalled working on papers until the wee hours of the morning, editing them over and over until every word was just right. At the time, it seemed like the most important thing in the world, but in the last few years, she'd begun to wonder why she'd taken it all so seriously. Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Michael Dell, and Mark Zuckerberg had dropped out of college, and they'd done okay, right? They intuitively understood that the world didn't care about grades or even graduating, at least not in the long run, especially when compared to traits like creativity or persistence. Sure, her grades had likely helped her land her very first job with the district attorney's office, but had anyone cared since then? When she'd been hired at the firm, they'd been interested only in her work experience and seemed to regard the first twenty-four years of her life as inconsequential. These days, Barney's conversations were centered on her current work product, and Ken's interests were of a different nature entirely.

  Thinking back, she regretted not taking a year off after graduation and going backpacking through Europe, or volunteering for Teach for America or whatever. Frankly, it didn't matter what she did as long as it was something interesting, but she'd been in such a headlong rush to grow up and become an adult that those thoughts had never even entered her mind. She didn't always feel like she was really living, though, and she sometimes found herself regretting the choices she'd made. And on that subject, wasn't she too young to have these kinds of regrets, anyway? Weren't those supposed to start in middle age? Lord knows, her mom and dad didn't seem to have any and they were middle-aged. Meanwhile, Serena acted as though she didn't have a care in the world, either--so where had Maria gone wrong?

  She blamed her melancholy thoughts on the pina coladas, whose effects she was still feeling a bit. Deciding to give herself a little more time before she got behind the wheel, she squinted at the pier and decided, Why not? Dusk was coming on, but she still had another hour or so before it was dark.

  Turning around, she started that way, watching the chaotic activity as families began to depart the beach en masse. Sunburned kids, overtired and whining, trailed their equally sunburned and overtired parents, who were hauling boogie boards, coolers, umbrellas, and towels.

  At the beach, she stopped to slip off her sandals, wondering if she'd recognize anyone from high school or whether they'd recognize her, but she spotted no one familiar. She trudged through the sand and when she reached the pier, she made her way up the steps just as the sun was beginning its slow descent. Through the slats beneath her feet, she watched as sand gave way to shallow water, then finally to waves cascading toward the shore. In either direction, surfers were still catching swells. Admiring their graceful movements, she passed people fishing; men and women, young and old, all of them lost in their own worlds. She remembered that when she had been a teenager, a boy she'd liked had once talked her into giving it a try. It was a blazing-hot day and casting was more difficult than she thought it would be. They eventually left the pier empty-handed, and she later realized that she liked the boy a lot more than she'd ever like fishing.

  The crowds grew sparser the farther out she got, and by the time she reached the end of the pier she noticed only a lone fisherman, his back toward her. He was dressed in faded jeans and a baseball cap, but from her cursory glance she could tell that he was put together just right. Shrugging off the thought, she turned her gaze to the horizon, catching sight of the moon rising from the sea. In the distance, a catamaran glided over the surface, and she idly wondered whether Serena might be persuaded to join her on a sailing trip one weekend.

  "Are you following me?" The voice came from the corner of the pier.

  When she turned, it took a few seconds for her to register that it was Colin. The fisherman in the baseball cap, she suddenly realized. She felt heat rise in her cheeks. Had Serena set this up, too? No, coming out here had been her idea. Hadn't it? Serena hadn't talked about Colin or the pier... which meant this had to be a coincidence, like the night he'd pulled over and changed her tire. What were the odds of meeting him here? Too low to be plausible, and yet... he was here and she was here, and she could tell he was waiting for an answer.

  "No," she stammered. "I'm not following you. I just came out here to enjoy the view."

  He seemed to weigh her answer. "And?"

  "And what?"

  "The view. How is it?"

  Flustered, she had to process his question before she could answer. "It's beautiful," she finally said.

  "Better than from the restaurant?"

  "Different. More peaceful."

  "I think so, too. That's why I'm here."

  "But you're fishing...?"

  "Not really," he said. "Like you, I'm mainly here to appreciate the scenery." He smiled before leaning over the railing. "I didn't mean to bother you," he assured her. "Enjoy the sunset, Maria."

  Somehow, hearing him say her name out here felt more intimate than it had in the bar, and she absently watched as he began reeling in his line. He cast again, the line unspooling into the distance, and she wondered whether she should stay or go. He seemed content to give her space, just as he'd done the night they'd first met. Which reminded her...

  "Hey, Colin?"

  He turned his head. "Yes?"

  "I should have thanked you for changing my tire the other night. You really saved me."

  "You're welcome. I was glad to help." He smiled. "And I'm glad you came to the restaurant tonight, too."

  "That was Serena's idea."

  "I could tell. You didn't seem all that happy to see me."

  "It wasn't that. I was just... surprised."

  "Me too."

  Maria could feel his gaze lingering on her before he finally turned away. She wasn't quite sure how to respond, and for a while, the two of them simply stood there in silence. Colin seemed perfectly relaxed and self-contained, while Maria tried to immerse herself in the view once again. A shrimp boat trawled the darker waters in the distance, and over her shoulder, the lights flickered on at Crabby Pete's. The faint strains of classic rock began to drift out of one of the restaurants, signaling the beginning of the evening festivities.

  She studied Colin from the corner of her eye, trying to figure out why he seemed so different than other men. In her experience, men her age generally fell into one of five categories: arrogant types who believed themselves to be one of God's favorite creations; friendly guys who might become keepers except for the fact that they often weren't interested in relationships; shy guys who could barely speak; men who weren't interested in her at all for one reason or another; and really good ones--genuine keepers--who were almost always taken, in her experience. Colin didn't seem like the first kind, and based on what she'd observed at the bar, he didn't seem like the second or third kinds, either. Which meant, obviously, that he was either the fourth or fifth kind. He wasn't interested in her... and yet, deep down, she suspected that she might be wrong about that, though she wasn't sure why. Which left the possibility that he was in the fifth category, but unfortunately, she'd pretty much ended the conversation earlier, so maybe his silence was a reaction to her perceived standoffishness.

  After he'd changed her tire. After his friendly efficiency at the bar. After Serena had assured her that he was a nice guy. And after he'd initiat
ed a conversation just a few moments earlier. She felt her shoulders slump. No wonder she spent her weekends alone.

  "Hey, Colin?" she tried again.

  He was still leaning over the railing, and when he turned after a moment, she detected the same trace of amusement she'd noticed in the bar. "Yes?"

  "May I ask you a question?"

  "Yes." His blue-gray eyes glowed like sea glass.

  "Why do you like fishing?"

  He reached up, tilting his hat back slightly. "I guess I don't, really. And I'm not very good at it, either. I hardly ever catch anything."

  She registered the soft precision of his speech. "Then why do you do it?"

  "It's a good way to unwind after work, especially when it's busy... It's just nice to have a few minutes to myself, you know? I come out here and it's quiet and the world slows down for a while. I started bringing a pole because it gave me something to do, instead of just standing out here and staring at the horizon."

  "Like I was doing?"

  "Exactly. Would you like to borrow my pole?" When she laughed under her breath, he went on. "Besides, I think it made people nervous when I just stood out here brooding, like I was up to no good. And earlier this week, with the bruises, I probably would have scared them, too."

  "I'd like to think you came off as contemplative."

  "I doubt it. You, on the other hand, come across as the type who frequently contemplates things. Life. Goals. Dreams."

  She flushed, feeling too tongue-tied to answer. Despite herself, she couldn't help agreeing with Serena: Colin was seriously... hot. She shook the thought away, not wanting to go there.

  "Do you mind?" he said, motioning toward her before leaning over and grabbing his tackle box. "I'm not having a lot of luck over here."

  His suggestion caught her off guard. "Uh, yeah... sure. But if you're not very good at fishing, I can't promise this spot will be any better."

  "It probably won't be," he admitted, drawing near. He set the tackle box beside him on the pier, leaving a comfortable distance between them. "But I won't have to talk so loud."

  Unlike her, he seemed perfectly relaxed, and she watched as he reeled in his line and recast in a new location. He leaned forward, jerking the pole slightly.