Chapter 1

A Chapter by Tyler Hein

"I've got no future and a great big past." mused Tufty Jacobson, from the corner of an intersection in downtown New York City, as he gazed at the immensity of the skyscrapers. The mid-day sun shone brightly and emblazoned him, making him appear much more angelic than he deserved. Beside him an average looking man stood in the shade and was jealous of Tufty's sun.

"Who the f**k are you talking too?" questioned the native New Yorker, who was tired of people like Tufty. His mother had just died today and he was, surprisingly, in a bad mood.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I talk to myself when there's no one else more intelligent nearby." With this Tufty reverts his focus back to his daydreams and his musing. "I wonder how I got here."

He has yet to notice the man's swinging right hand heading straight for the bridge of his nose. He was too lost in his mind's world. "I bet people would like to know." he thought to himself.

---------------------------------

The words hadn't even left Emily's mouth and she already knew what Tufty's response would be. She decided to still ask. "You want to what?"

"I want to move to New York. To be a writer." he responded.

"Why?"

"I want to write a book."

"You can do that here though, couldn't you?"

"It's not the same. I need to be inspired by the city. That's what writer's call it, we call it the city."

Emily was on the verge of tears. "But, you already are a writer! You're a writer here. You wrote that book!"

Tufty nodded his head slowly. He was plunging into the depths of his mind to find the right thing to say. He came up empty-handed, gasping for air.

"I know I did." was the best that he could come up with.

"So you can be a writer here!"

"You're not getting it." Tufty reached a comforting hand out towards Emily's. She took it willingly, not wanting to let him go. She looked around at her surroundings to try and calm herself down. Tufty and her were sitting in an ordinary Starbucks that was located within a bookstore. She saw the comforting fireplace in the corner and the comfy green chairs placed two to a table. She stared at the line up of people who were waiting to get a proper start to their day. She looked down at her table and saw her own black coffee, exactly as she would have pictured it, and, momentarily, it comforted her. Tufty didn't order anything and Emily thought nothing of it at the time.

"When? When are you moving?" Emily asked in a hardly audible tone, for her voice was barely a whisper.

"In just over a week."

"So we have a week left?" she queried. Tufty tried to see if his hand could be moved and found that it could not. He wasn't surprised, he'd been in this kind of situation before, to different extents. His mind flashed back to 11th grade when Rachel Howie kicked him in the groin after he ended their two month relationship. A nostalgic smile flashed across his face.

"Why are you smiling?" was shot at his direction immediately. Tufty promptly removed his smile and resumed his previous face of tender condolences on the verge of being on the verge of tears. He wore it well. He looked around at his surroundings and regretted doing this here. He hated it here. He hated the fake fireplace in the corner and the dirty ugly green chairs scattered about at random. He especially hated the line of people waiting like junkies to get their daily fix. I bet this is one of Dante's stages of Hell he thought. He had never read The Divine Comedy and never would.

"Tufty? We have a week left? Right?" Emily asked.

"Well I'll be busy..."

"But we have a week left?"

"Yes, I guess. But, and I stress this, I'll be busy with finalizing everything." he stated. He stressed the word 'stress' instead of the word 'busy' by mistake. He wanted a do-over.

Emily was wiping the tears away from her eyes with the hem of her green sweater. This particular sweater was her favourite piece of clothing and she wore it any chance she could. It was comfy and colourful and soft and everyone she knew loved how it looked on her.

I hate that f*****g sweater thought Tufty.

"That's fine. I understand." She said, as she tightened her grip on Tufty's hand. In her head she had a week to convince him to stay here. To stay with her.

"Okay good. I'm sorry but I have to follow this dream." Tufty tried to wiggle his hand free from Emily's death grip to no avail.

"Maybe I could visit you in New York. Or how big is your place?"

"Why?" immediately Tufty froze. He knew why, he just didn't want to admit it.

"I know I have a year of school left but maybe..." she paused her sentence to gauge Tufty's reaction and Tufty, playing it cool as always, kept his face of tender condolences despite on the inside wishing he had the power to silence her. Emily continued after correctly reading Tufty's face, "I could transfer. Or we could be a long distance couple for a year."

Tufty paused. He didn't understand why she's didn't realize what was happening. He looked into her eyes and saw that they were filled with hope and anticipation and a thin film of leftover tears. He looked into these eyes and felt no pain. No guilt. No regret. He wondered if something was wrong with him. "I'm going to get a drink." he finally said. It took him a few attempts but he eventually managed to free his hand from Emily's, allowing him to stand and wait in line like an addict waiting for his fix. He looked at the door and considered making a dash for it. He decided a drink was a better way to spend his time. He had become an addict and he knew it.

"Could I get a large strawberries and crème frappuccino please?

"Sure. And what would you like?" asked Darryl the over-eager barista.

"A strawberries and crème..."

"Oh I thought that was for your lady friend. It's just, you know," he leaned in closer and instructed Tufty to do the same, "it's pretty gay."

"Thanks Darryl. Get my drink now."

"What size?"

Tufty sighed. "Like I said before. Large." Darryl the over-eager barista has been demoted to Darryl the incompetent twat.

"Do you mean Venti? We don't have a large."

"Yah whatever." Tufty said impatiently. "That's fine."

"What do you mean 'that'? Does 'that' mean Venti strawberries and crème?"

Tufty nodded impatiently that yes, that is what 'that' means.

"So is that a yes to the Venti strawberries and crème?"

"Get me my f*****g drink." Tufty barked. Darryl the incompetent twat has been demoted to Fuckface.

As Fuckface scurried off to get Tufty's drink Emily rose to make her final stand to convince Tufty, her boyfriend of two years, to stay with her.

"I love you." she proclaimed.

"Hmm?" he replied.

"I love you." she repeated.

"I know."

"You said you loved me." His reply had brought back tears to the surface of her eyes.

"I do." he lied.

"Then why are you leaving me?"

"I said it before. I have to."

"No you don't!" she screamed angrily. Tufty reconsidered running but realized he still didn't have his drink. Thanks Fuckface thought Tufty, though he managed to hold that in and silently say "Don't be mad. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Fuckface interjected. "Venti strawberries and crème." Tufty again found himself thanking Fuckface.

"Why can't you stay? Just for a year. I'll help you write. I'll work an extra job so that you have all the time you need. What do you need Tufty? I'll do anything."

"Well... Right now I need a straw..." He replied sheepishly.

"I'll get you one! Because that's what couples do, they help one another. They do what the other wants because they care about each other. Because they love each other."

She left that last line to ring out. Tufty was slightly taken back by how much she cared about him; Though he still didn't have a straw and he saw Fuckface looking at him judgementally but before he could open his mouth to speak, Emily continued.

"You need a straw! Right. I'm sorry, I want to always help you get the things you need. I'm just flustered." She was reaching for the straws while keeping her eyes on Tufty. She saw his eyes dart to the doors and kept close to him just in case. "And during that year before we move to New York we'll have sex every day. Unless you don't want to that day. But we will if you want. We'll do anything you want." she continued.

Due to her keeping her eyes on Tufty she couldn't find what she was looking for and was making exaggerated attempts to grab at the straws. Tufty let himself be drowned by the irony of it. It was like poetry to him.

"It's over Emily," he finally replied, "I'm sorry."

"Please don't. I can change."

Tufty reached deep into his mind and pulled out what he thought was the perfect line for this situation. "Please don't change," he said in the kindest voice he could muster, "You're perfect just the way you are. You're just not perfect for me."

"Don't do that," Emily plead to Tufty as she broke down in tears, "Don't do that to me."

"I'm sorry Emily." Tufty noticed his drink was melting and he couldn't help but blame her.

"I know we had bad times. But we had lots of good times. We can have good times again, we can make the good times last."

She grabbed his hand. He grabbed a straw. She sobbed a bit. He took a sip. So is life.

"I have to go Emily."

And with one firm yank he freed his hand from Emily's and walked out of Starbucks and onto the street.

"Oh please just last..." Emily whispered softly as Tufty walked out of her life forever.

next chapter