Nightshine

It's painful when your present suddenly turns into memory overnight. We aren't always given the gift of knowing we're living something for the last time. Evelyn, though, knew: that was her last day in Boston, perhaps forever. A few weeks had already passed, but every morning when she woke it was like having to start all over again. Philadelphia didn't have the same feel. The sky, the view out the window, the faces on the street were all different. She spent her days barely going out, drifting through the house from one room to another like a ghost, waiting. Her body had shrunk, her red hair had dimmed, the Philadelphia sun couldn't light it. That light made everything even darker. The same had happened to her blue eyes, which had faded to grey. Her room was bigger now, yet to her it only felt emptier. Henry and Olivia, Evelyn's parents, were worried about their daughter's mood. But seeing her constantly shut away in those four walls was the only way they could keep an eye on her. Evelyn was in her room, wrapped in the covers, when her mother knocked on the door.

"Evelyn... Sweetheart, can I come in?"

Silence. Her mother opened the door carefully, peering into the gloom, looking for her. Olivia went to the bed and sat down on the edge. She reached out cautiously, trying to touch her.

"Come on, why don't you get up?"

The girl answered by turning over in the covers.

"Why don't you try coming downstairs, maybe eat something?"

From within the shapeless tangle of blankets, a voice climbed out: "I'm fine."

Her mother stroked the bundle.

"You've still got so many boxes to unpack, why don't you try to tidy up a little? God, this room looks like a warehouse." She tried to get a laugh out of her daughter, who didn't respond.

"You can't stay in this bed forever. Come on, if you get up, I'll make you a nice chocolate cake."

"With caramel?"

"With caramel."

The creature emerged from the sea of covers. Her mother stroked her hair, smoothing it back into place.

"There's my girl. Come on, get out of this bed."

"All right. But only for that cake."

Her mother left the room while Evelyn dragged herself out of that sea. She sat on the edge for a few moments; she looked at the clock, it was early afternoon. She hauled herself over to the boxes still sealed in a corner of the room. She pulled her hair up while deciding which box to open first. Drawings, books, clothes... where to start? It took her no time to settle on the books: reading something, sinking for a moment into another world, would help her. She took her earbuds and put on her usual song: The Night We Met. She closed her eyes and stretched her neck. Her heartbeat changed rhythm and her shoulders loosened, melting downward. She sat on the floor, pulling the box of books toward her. Over the years she'd read hundreds of them; her collection was enviable. Ever since she was a child, stories had hypnotized her while she let herself be cradled by the worlds hidden between those pages. Among the various titles she spotted The Little Prince, one of her favorites. She set it on her lap and began leafing through it. She brought the book to her face; the paper still carried the scent of her old house in Boston. She felt the tears rising, so she snapped the book shut, pushing it out of sight. She closed it for good and got up to put it back on the new shelf. Those books had been read and reread countless times; each of them carried an emotion, the memories of her life. She arranged them hastily without noticing which title she held in her hands. One by one the box emptied. She took a few steps back, palms on her hips, swaying as she looked at the filled shelves. In front of her stood an array of memories on full display; neat, in order, and yet to her they seemed out of place, completely wrong. She shook her head and left the room to go downstairs.

"Look who decided to show up." Henry, Evelyn's father, was up on a stepladder, busy putting the final touches on the living room. He was older than his wife, with a permanent frown. "Did you sort out your room?"

"No... I haven't finished yet... You know Dad actually I was thinking of... going out. Remember that bookstore downtown, the one we saw on the way in?"

"Yes, of course I remember it, it looked very nice. I think it's a great idea to try getting out a little, you know, start seeing the city, at least before school starts. Do you need me to take you?"

"No, don't worry, I checked: there's a bus that stops right nearby."

Henry came down from the ladder and stepped closer to his daughter.

"Don't be late, okay? Call us for anything, if you need a ride or anything else—"

"Dad, I'm going to a bookstore... Don't worry," Evelyn cut in.

"Listen, I'll take you, it's better—"

"Dad, please! I need to be on my own."

Evelyn quickly pulled on her beige wool coat, wound her red scarf around her neck, and left before her father could reply. Left alone and visibly irritated, Henry went back up the ladder to keep working. Once on the bus, Evelyn sat watching the city through the window, still wearing her earbuds. As she got closer to the center of Philadelphia, statues, fountains, and enormous skyscrapers were mirrored in her eyes. The library appeared at the end of a very long tree-lined avenue: a majestic structure of white stone in the classical style, the Parkway Central Library. Evelyn wouldn't admit it, but she was struck by that green landscape in the heart of a metropolis. Somehow the inside was even more beautiful: the ceiling soared, the smell of paper and that holy silence were exactly the atmosphere she'd been looking for. She wandered among the hundreds of rows of books so lightly that the people around her didn't even notice her. She walked the whole library back and forth, more than once. Which world could carry her away? Which story could quiet her thoughts? She was in the classics section when, for some reason, her eye fell on a title:Pride and Prejudice. One of the greatest love stories ever told, certainly one of the most famous; a novel Evelyn had heard about her whole life and seen quoted far and wide, but had never actually read. She took the copy in her hands, blowing the thin veil of dust off the cover, and went looking for a quiet spot where she could finally start reading. She sat in a corner far from other people when, from above, she heard a rustling; looking up at the skylights, she saw it was raining, the water pounding against the roof. She then laid her coat over her legs and began to read. Without even realizing it, she devoured the first chapters in a single breath; every page was like a magnet. She'd been certain what to expect from that novel—she'd imagined a complex text, a language with an antique feel; instead she had to hold back from laughing. She found something completely different: it was a funny story, ironic and sincere. Elizabeth and her sisters, the stoic Mr. Darcy and the sweet Bingley were so real it felt like they were all right there, before her eyes, in that very moment. Meanwhile, outside the book, time had moved on: evening had fallen and the library was about to close. Evelyn was flung out of Hertfordshire; she grabbed her coat and headed for the desk to borrow the book. In line, she pictured going home and curling up in bed to keep discovering what would happen in the story. When her turn came, though, she realized she needed the little money she had to get home, and she didn't have a student ID. She couldn't take it home, and had to leave the novel behind. She pulled her scarf tight around her neck and went out into the street, huffing. The rain had stopped by now, and the water left on the road was lifted by the passing cars. The freezing air whistled between the buildings, so Evelyn wrapped her coat around herself, arms crossed over her chest. "Stupid bookstore. What an... idiot," she thought.

She couldn't understand why she was so annoyed. She knew perfectly well she could come back another day or get herself a copy some other way. And yet she couldn't shake it, having had to close the book and go home.

A little way behind her she heard someone shout: "Hey!"

Evelyn turned her head cautiously, still moving forward; someone was calling to her from a distance, waving an arm in the air while walking quickly toward her. She slowed until she stopped, and a tall guy with brown hair approached her. He wore a black leather jacket over a well-worn dark red sweater, and boots.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," the guy held out a book to her. "You left this."

Evelyn took it in her hands; it was a copy of Pride and Prejudice. She stayed silent, moving her gaze from the book to him. Her lips sealed shut like the door of a vault. It was the exact copy she'd been reading. What did this guy really want? Before she could say anything, he got there first.

"I didn't mean to bother you. The loan lasts a week, remember to bring it back. Have a good evening." The guy turned, put in a pair of wired earphones, and headed off, hands shoved in his pockets. Evelyn spun around too and carried on her way. She held the book firmly in her hands, still looking at it, rechecking the title. She hadn't even thanked him; he must have thought she was an asshole. There was nothing she could do now, the guy had gone, going after him would be strange, in the end he was a stranger, she owed him nothing. Right at that moment her legs nailed themselves to the ground, still as two marble columns. She turned her head. He wasn't far, she could still catch up to him. Her hair stirred across her face as she watched the guy walk away. She made up her mind: holding the book tight to her chest, she caught up with him, tapped his shoulder with two fingers, and the guy took out one earphone.

"Hey, you again."

Evelyn took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, I... you were really kind and I didn't thank you," he pulled out the other earphone too, "you were really sweet. Thank you."

"Don't mention it, it's a pleasure."

It was only then that Evelyn noticed the guy had green eyes and a small scar on his right eyebrow.

"You're not from around here, are you?"

"Um... No, actually, no. What gave me away?"

"I come here a lot and I remember faces really well. You're a new face."

"Wow, sharp. It's true, I got here not long ago."

"Then welcome to Philadelphia..."

"Evelyn."

"I'm John."

Evelyn looked away, checking her surroundings, rocking slightly on her feet.

"Well, it was a pleasure, Evelyn."

"Wait. Um, do you know where the bus stop is?"

"It's just back here, I was heading there too."

"I was... sure it was on the other side."

"Unless they've moved it, it's still over this way."

"I don't want to bother you. Is it a problem if I follow you? I don't understand any of these streets."

"No problem at all, I'll lead the way."

After one small step, Evelyn set off with him, and he kept a certain distance from her. She held the book firmly while with one hand she pulled her scarf up over her chin.

"Thanks again for the book, by the way."

"Don't mention it. Do you like reading?"

"I've read a few books, yeah. Have you ever read this one?"

"Yes! I love it. I've lost count of how many times I've reread it."

"I'd never held it in my hands before, and it's crazy, because I'd always heard about it. It swept me away."

"I wish I could reread it for the first time too."

"You like reading as well?"

"I've devoured dozens of books, I love them, films and music too."

"I don't know anything about films, but I love music, I basically live with my earbuds on."

"I know what you mean. What do you usually listen to?"

"I don't have a specific genre, I like happy music, party music, you know? Upbeat, fun. What about you? Let me guess. Rock?"

He couldn't help laughing. "I do like it quite a lot, actually. But not only that, I listen to everything. I like to think I listen to good music: Bowie, Dylan, Clapton, Prince, Zeppelin, whatever it is. But if I really had to pick one specific genre, I think you got it."

"I'd have bet on it, even if I have no idea who any of them are."

"Considering half of them are dead, that's fair enough. If you had to pick a genre?"

"Which would I pick? Hmm... I really have no idea, I listen to Beyoncé, Rihanna, Taylor, you know?"

"Super pop! I'm sure you'd get along with a friend of mine, I think you'd talk for hours. She's been to a Rihanna concert twice, she's a huge fan."

"I've been too, only once though, in Boston. Your friend has great taste."

"You're from there? From Boston?"

"Um... Yeah, like I said, I got here not long ago."

"I've never been, but I've always heard wonderful things about it."

"Yeah, it's amazing..."

"How long have you been here?"

"For good: just a couple of weeks, though we've been going back and forth for a few months now, you know, for the house, school, and everything else."

"You don't sound thrilled, were you very attached to Boston?"

"Yeah, I grew up there, I still need to... get used to it, everything's still strange."

"Of course, that's normal. It must be hard."

"Exactly... Everything's different here. It hasn't been an easy few days."

"I understand. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, right," she added under her breath, to herself.

"Hey, wait." The guy slowed his pace until he stopped.

Evelyn crossed her arms.

"I didn't say it to be polite, I really am sorry, I'm not kidding, you can tell you miss home. In a way I can understand what you're going through, it happened to me too." Evelyn studied his gaze. It was ruthlessly honest; on his face she couldn't catch the slightest hint of a lie. She couldn't believe a single word he was telling her, but his eyes weren't lying. She waited for the slip, the comma out of place, until she started to feel like she was the one being watched. "I know it sucks to hear anything at all in moments like these, and that no one can really understand you. I don't know you, but something tells me... you seem tough. And I really hope you'll manage to feel better, even if you're not home."

Evelyn kept watching him: "Who the hell is this guy?"

"Thanks..."

John started walking again and Evelyn followed.

"I'm not from around here either. I was born in Italy, I came here when I was six. In that sense, I think I can understand at least a little of what you're going through."

"What?! I'd... never have guessed! You don't have the slightest accent."

"It took me a long time to get rid of it."

"Do you still speak Italian?"

"Absolutely. Even though I've spent most of my life here, I've always felt more Italian than American."

"Oh, I totally get what you mean. I'll always be from Boston, I'm sure of that. I feel like I'm overreacting right now. My home is five hours from here, while yours is on another continent."

"You're not overreacting; it doesn't matter what happened or how far away home is, what matters is the effect it had on you. Besides, a lot of years have passed, now I'm happy—" John was interrupted by his phone ringing.

"Answer it, it's fine."

"Sorry, this'll take a second." He took the phone, stepping away slightly. "Hey, baby? What's up?"

Evelyn moved off and with one hand pushed her hair off her forehead. She took a deep breath and then let it all out at once. She watched the cars going by on the road just in front of her. The sky was completely dark and the city had filled with lights, like a mass of stars scattered around the streets. Where had this guy come from? Always smiling, the nice cologne, the calm serene voice. While she was dressed any old way, with wilted hair and no makeup. The first decent person she'd met and she'd already hammered him with her gloom after throwing away an entire evening in a bookstore, on a Friday.

"I'm on my way back, go to bed now, okay? See you soon, monkey. Sorry, Evelyn, what were you saying?" John came back over to her quickly.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, it was my sister, throwing a tantrum and not wanting to go to sleep."

"Is she little?"

"Yeah, she's five, she's a little terror but she's wonderful. Here, look." John pulled out a photo of the kid. She had two big blue eyes, blond hair all tousled, and a boundless smile.

"Aw, she's so cute..."

"Her name's Sarah. Don't be fooled by that little angel face, she's actually a little devil, the cutest one in the world, though. Ah, she's my weak spot."

"I can't say anything, I was a little terror as a kid, too."

"Then you'd get along with her as well. Anyway, sorry for the interruption—where were we?"

"I don't want to bore you with my problems, don't worry."

"I promise you I'm not bored. I'm glad to help, if I can."

"I... All right. Can I be blunt?"

"Fire away."

"How long did it take you to get used to it?"

"A long time. It took a while, but I think it varies from person to person. At a certain point I was home."

"When? What changed?"

"Everything, but at the same time, nothing. Everything around you is different, but at a certain point you realize that... you're still you, just in a new place, with new memories; good new memories too. I don't think this satisfies what you're looking for, but I can promise you that what changed is only on the outside."

Maybe he was just some guy talking big about nothing. Or maybe he was right, maybe it was okay like this, maybe Boston was still there with Evelyn.

"Sorry, I tend to get lost in these kinds of conversations, I don't want to weigh you down."

"Don't apologize, you're very kind, and actually, maybe you're right, I hope it really is like that. Thank you."

"We're almost there, it's right around here. Changing the subject... Have you already enrolled in a high school?"

"Yeah, we looked at several, I was torn between two and in the end I chose Fairmount. Do you know it?"

"What?! Are you kidding?"

"No?"

"That's not possible, it's my school! Senior year."

Evelyn went pale and buried her face in her hands.

"I can't believe it, you're pulling my leg. Oh my God, it's not true. You'll think I'm a loser, oh my God, this wasn't supposed to happen this way."

"What wasn't supposed to go this way?"

"I swear I'm absolutely not... this! You met me at the wrong moment. I don't spend my Friday nights dressed like this, harassing strangers. That's so embarrassing! Don't laugh!"

"Sorry, it's just that I don't understand what the problem is. It's great, you'll meet Tracy, my friend, she'll adore you."

"Right, the new girl on a bad day, holed up in a library. Woo!"

"Hey, I was holed up in that library too."

They had reached the stop. Evelyn let all her weight drop onto the bench. John joined her a moment later, sitting beside her while she struggled not to get caught up in his laughter.

"It's not funny. You don't get it."

"Honestly, no."

"The best moment I've had in weeks was in an armchair inside a dusty library, and the first stranger I meet is someone I'll see every single day for the next year, and to top it off, I'm dressed like a bum."

"Well, the scarf is nice." Evelyn shoved his shoulder with one hand, making John laugh even harder.

"Oh! I just realized. You'll meet Connor and Will too! Connor is Tracy's boyfriend, my friend, remember? We've known each other since elementary school they'll adore you! I'm certain of it, I'll bet you anything you want."

She sat up, getting comfortable, and caught her breath from the laughter.

"You and Tracy won't stop talking. From the outside she can seem prickly, but she's the kindest person in the world. Connor is my best friend, he's the most loyal person I know. Will... well, Will is Will, he's like a brother, he's the king of the party, but he's in heat these days."

"They sound really nice."

"They're the best."

"Have you known each other long?"

"Since elementary school."

"Wow!"

"They've helped me so much, they're like family to me."

"Tell me more."

While the two of them laughed and chatted, the stop gradually filled with people. The space had shrunk and the murmur of the wait had risen, though it never reached them. The wait had stretched on by several minutes. People huffed and checked their watches.

"I'd say it's officially late."

"Is it often like this?"

"More than I'd like to admit..."

"Wow, so efficient, this Philadelphia."

"It's easy not to have late buses when you don't have buses."

"How dare you! You live in a third-world city."

"I wish so badly I could argue with that..."

"Come on, deep down, it doesn't suck that much here. At least now I know someone, even if only by sight. I confess that... it scared me a little, the whole thing."

"Seems normal to me. I'm sure you'll settle in fine at school too, it's really great. There are lots of people, lots of groups. Speaking of which... the day after tomorrow I'm going out with the others, don't feel obligated, but if you felt like it, you could join us. At least you'd meet them too before school starts next week."

"Oh... I don't know... You caught me a little off guard."

"Right, more than an invitation it's... an opportunity, if you don't feel like it, that's totally fair, and there's no need to decide now."

"All right, thanks..." Out of the corner of his eye, John saw Evelyn stroking her hands, lacing her fingers together.

"You know, the school has a basketball team. My friend Connor plays."

"The BlackBears?"

"You know them!"

"Yeah, it was all over the school website."

"They're a very respected team."

"I'm sure they are. It's such an awful name the other teams run away when they hear it."

With a deliberately indignant look, John put a hand over his mouth and turned his back on Evelyn, snickering.

"Okay, sorry, sorry, I went too far." Evelyn replied, laughing, and John settled back at her side. "Do you play too?"

"Ah, no, sports aren't my path."

"What's your path, then?"

"Uh, the question of a lifetime. Maybe—I still don't fully know, working in publishing, you know, books, stories, I'd like that. What about you?"

"My parents are hoping I'll have a career in some kind of business, afford a nice house, be able to live well."

"Hmm. But what do you want to do?"

"I'm fine with that, though... I don't know, maybe I don't know."

"I like that. Maybe we'd find out if only this damn bus would come... We'll be here forever, won't we?"

"I'm afraid so, how long have we been waiting?"

"At least fifteen minutes."

"Wow..." Evelyn started giggling, John shaking his head.

"Earlier... what were you listening to?"

"When?"

"After you gave me the book, you ran off with your earphones, what were you listening to?"

"Oh. Let's see...

I Want You

, by Dylan. Do you know it?"

Evelyn shook her head. He started to hum the melody. "Nothing?"

"I have no idea who that is."

"Right, let's fix that."

"What?" John slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out the wired earphones. He put one in his ear and held out the other to Evelyn. "Okay, I'm in!" Evelyn tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and moved closer, taking the earphone.

"Let me introduce you to my dear friend: Bob Dylan."

John started dancing with his shoulders, sitting there in place, keeping the rhythm by snapping his fingers. Evelyn followed him with her head and, a little later, with her foot too. For the first time in days, Evelyn caught herself smiling for real.

"It's one of my favorites."

"Yeah, yeah, it's wicked nice!"

They listened to the whole song and started chatting again, moving from one subject to another with no real connection between them. Evelyn told John about Boston, and he listened attentively. They moved on to talking about school. John told her about films, and she answered with music. After several minutes the people at the stop began to drift away and, one by one, to leave. John stood up, looking at the lit-up schedule board.

"I'd say they've canceled the run."

"What do we do now?"

"I'm not sure, do you want to take a taxi?"

"No... Maybe I'll have my parents come get me. Do you need a ride home?"

"I think I'll walk back."

"Are you sure? Are you near home?"

"Don't worry, it's not far."

"I'll text them, they'll take five minutes to get here. Really, if you need a ride it's not a problem."

"I really appreciate it, but you don't have to worry. I like walking at night with music. I'll take a nice quiet walk."

"All right. But don't stay here for me, go ahead already."

"Are you okay on your own? You sure? I'm happy to wait."

"They'll be here in no time, don't hang around, your little sister's waiting for you at home, isn't she?"

"You're right, then let's say goodbye."

"Wait... I thought about it and... I'd like to come out on Sunday. You know, the outing you mentioned earlier."

"Great, I'm glad you're coming. So we'll meet at a bar on—"

"Send me the place on Instagram: Ev, underscore, Williams."

"Oh... All right. So we'll see each other Sunday. It was a pleasure, Evelyn."

"For me too. Um... Thank you, for the things you said to me, really. See you Sunday."

John smiled and gave a little wave, put his earphones back in, and walked away, fading into the streets. Evelyn stayed on her feet, looking at the book; the wind brushed her face, sending her hair fluttering. Within a few minutes her parents reached her. In the car she watched the dark city, the people strolling along the sidewalks, the yellowed light of the streetlights falling in patches on the buildings, the trees, the fountains. Once home, she put her coat and scarf away. At the table she briefly told her parents about the evening, and they kept exchanging suspicious, doubtful looks. After the chocolate caramel cake, Evelyn finally went back to her room. She turned on the lamp on the nightstand, keeping the room dim. The boxes had stayed where she'd left them, and so had the books arranged on the shelves, none of them had moved. She stood in front of them and looked at them one by one. A few tears came to stroke her cheek. They were still all out of place, wrong, but she didn't move a single one. She found only a small space where she gently slid in the copy of Pride and Prejudice. She got ready for the night so she could sink into the covers. She brought her earbuds with her to listen to her song on repeat. Boston felt closer. Maybe she finally had a shot, a once in a lifetime chance, maybe her luck was finally turning. A small crack had opened, and she could become someone again, go back to before everything fell apart, start over from scratch, but with more experience. The melody washed over her thoughts, clearing her mind, and cradled her until slowly she dropped into sleep.