Voice I Recall
Zac's point of view
I freeze the instant I view him.
Calm and collected like the moon on a peaceful night, he was seated near the back of the class. He was at ease, his back leaning somewhat against the chair, and his legs crossed with assurance. A navy-blue blazer hung loosely on his shoulders, stark against his fair complexion, and a black turtleneck clung to his towering frame. His dark hair fell somewhat over his brows, his eyes far but piercing as if he noticed more than what was immediately in front of him.
I was pulled at my memory by something about him. Not like a general sense of dj vu, but more like a thread tense, achingwaiting to expose something I had hidden.
Was it really him?
Might it be?
That evening, did he kiss me?
Mr. Zac Aron.
Hearing my name reverberating over the room made me jump.
-- Shit.
My head snapped toward Professor Harley Davidson standing at the front of the class. With thick-rimmed spectacles set low on her nose, she looked as stern as ever in her tailored gray blazer and black pencil skirt. Her dark brown hair was knotted tight, but a few strands near her forehead obstinately loose.
Yes, ma'am? I said, striving to sound calm, but my voice broke somewhat.
Her face didnt get friendlier. Care to repeat what I just stated?
I closed my eyes. My thoughts jumbled. She said what once more? Anything regarding. . . stars?
I said, dry swallow, ma'am. I am not sure.
Several students laughed. Like flames, the heat was rising in my cheeks.
Professor Harley sighed dramatically and clicked her tongue. Naturally not. You were too busy gazing at Mr. Januz, our new exchange student.
I swear my spirit left my body.
Looking down, I chewed the inside of my cheek. Januz was watching me from the edge of my eye, not smirking or irritated, but rather with brows somewhat raised. Simply interested.
God, things couldnt possibly be any worse.
walking toward her desk, Professor Harley continued and grabbed a clipboard. You will be working together as you seem very interested in knowing your colleague, Mr. Zac. Together, you will provide a brief paper on World Mythologies and Astrology.
My belly sank.
Seriously?
Among all the persons she might have matched me with
She said, tapping her pen against the board, you will concentrate on Greek mythology and its astrological links; and I expect you to present tomorrow morning. Yes, tomorrow is the day. Think of it as a preliminary assessment of your group work and research abilities.
Someone behind me muttered, Karma is that.
I made no effort at turning around. I was too preoccupied trying to control my breathing.
Professor Harley went on, internships start next month. So wow me; show me you belong in the stars, not just wish upon them.
She kept the lecture going as though nothing had happened, but after that I couldn't hear a single word.
One thing kept me thinking about it all.
Himself.
Janusz.
That name. That face, that voice.
His unassuming attitude conveyed tremendous strength.
And that one evening beneath the stars, with the wind, the ocean, and that one, amazing kiss.
Later That Day Austen University Library, Fourth Floor
The library was almost empty.
Located behind the astronomy area, the 4th floor was always the quietest. In a manner that ancient books, streaks of sunset light filtering in via glass panels, and the smell of aged paper permeating the air felt holy.
Near the back corner, I sat by myself at a long wooden table going through a battered astrology book that smelt like it had lived a dozen lives. My eyes skimmed phrases I wasn't actually reading as my fingers absently turned the pages.
My heart was still beating fast.
That time in class had exposed something.
I had no idea what I was anticipating: denial, uncertainty, distance, or something else; instead, he gazed at me like he already knew me. Like he was utterly unsurprising.
The door cackled open.
I already knew; I did not need to look.
He moved slowly, deliberately, and peacefully. How someone walks when they know precisely where they are headed.
I apologise for being late, Januz remarked.
I looked up.
Carrying a notebook beneath his arm and a slick tablet in one hand, he headed toward me. Not today, no hoodie. Just that navy-blue blazer again, with a soft, ash-gray turtleneck underneath.
I gulped.
I said, voice low. I was early.
He set the tablet between us and sat beside me without saying anything else. He seemed even more bizarre up close. The sort of face you observed in foreign movies or perfume commercials—not particularly beautiful, but intriguing in a way that lingered with you.
When he sat down, his scent was fresh and cool, like pine after a storm had washed over me.
You've already begun reading? he queried.
More or less, I said, turning the book around for him to see and highlighting some constellations we could use Orion, Cassiopeia, Pegasus. All linked to Greek mythology and all apparent this season.
Januz nodded deliberately. You truly know your stars.
I said always have; it's sort of my thing.
He leaned his head a little and observed me for a second longer than usual.
Do you then usually see them by yourself?
I got stopped.
That inquiry.
That voice was soft, deep, and tinged with something more than simply interest.
My fingers bent a little toward the book's border.
What is?
He never closed his eyes. The stars. Do you ever see them by yourself? On the beach?
My breath caught in my throat.
That was excessively precise. Too precise.
The waves, the stars, the sand. the precise location where
I tense my throat. Yes, occasionally. But how did you know?
His gaze found mine.
I was there that night, he said softly.
I fixed my gaze on him.
Everything vanished around us. The books. The clock, the faint keyboard tapping of a librarian. Everything vanished.
I slumped back a little, striving for breath. You were.
His eyes remained fixed.
I muttered, knowing it. You kissed me.
He neither confirmed nor refuted it.
Did not chuckle it off.
Not fleeing from it.
He said, I didnt mean to, after a protracted pause. You appeared to be lost. like you wanted something to clutch.
His phrases encircled my chest and settled into me steadily.
You assumed I would forget, I remarked, half-question, half-statement.
He nodded.
I tried to forget, I said, only barely above a whisper. But your voice stayed. It seemed to me like an echo every time I heard it.
He glanced downward for a minute, then back up. Then perhaps the stars wanted us to meet once more.
That quiet returnedheavy with everything we weren't saying.
I yearned to inquire hundreds of things of him.
Why did you leave that evening?
Why were you silent in class?
Why me?
But all I could do was sit there, looking at him, trying to understand the storm going on inside of me.
Here is the reality:
I ceased to be terrified.
I didnt get perplexed or anxious or mad.
I was attracted to him.
I despised how accurate that seemed.
Evening Same Library, Just Before Closure
Following that, we worked in calm—or at least attempted to.
The notes were present. There were a lot of slides and references on the tablet. The presentation had a clear goal.
The distance between us, however, was different now. Charged. Like the sky before lightning strikes.
He was not particularly talkative. I was not either.
Not because we had nothing to say but rather because everything we wanted to express was not yet appropriate.
While I was packing up, I noticed him looking at the window, at the stars gradually emerging in the heavens outside the glass.
Do you have faith in fate? I inquired abruptly.
He tilted his head, a small gleam in his eyes. Fate, huh?
Yes, I remarked. Or like soul recognition. Like individuals who know from other lifetimes when they come across.
Janusz's genuine but understated grin was evidence against fate. I'm not sure I believe in fate.
He rose and put his notepad back into his backpack.
I believe in timing, though, he said. Perhaps some things are meant to occur when the stars are prepared.
I'm not sure what drove me to say it.
Before he left, though, I said, Im happy you kissed me.
He stopped.
Turned.
Our eyes met again.
He didn't smile. Didn't say anything.
But the look in his eyes…
That look said everything.