The Coat and the Sandwich

by Arun Ghosh ‘26

Preston’s mind often wandered up into the clouds or down into a deep-sea trench on his walk back from dinner. The sidewalk covered in snow could be a dream, a far less solid ground he traversed. Gravity itself but an afterthought, the end of a leap that shook him awake. Noise did little to disturb the inner peace, though peace might not adequately describe it. He was lost, waiting to be found instead of finding himself.

“Hi, Preston!” greeted Brooklyn cheerfully. And there it was again; gravity, a crash landing back to reality.

“Hi, Brooklyn,” he answered timidly, almost blushing.

“How are you?” she asked, fluent in the pleasantries.

“I’m good, how are you?” he replied, trying not to sound robotic. By then, a grin had spread across his face, leaving his cheeks bright red.

“I’m good! I was fearing for my life on the hill today, because of the ice,” she responded, wearing a plastic smile.

“No for real, I slipped there today. I knew it was gonna happen eventually,” he added, almost laughing. She smiled, and started to walk past him, but as his stomach began to burst, he spun around.

“Do you wanna get lunch sometime?!” he called out, sounding less than smooth. The energy of the moment left him panting.

“I’m so sorry, I’m just- really busy this week. I’m so sorry!” she yelled back over the wind, already at least twenty feet away. He froze for a few seconds, then nodded, and turned around.

“Did you see the look on his face?” one of her friends remarked, assuming Preston was out of earshot. A sinking feeling rolled into his stomach like a bowling ball into the gutter.

“His coat doesn’t even match his pants, what a loser,” said the other friend. All three of them laughed, and Preston stormed back to his apartment. Throwing himself on the bed, he lay there for several minutes before taking off his coat. What they couldn’t see, beneath the coat, was a designer plaid shirt that matched his pants perfectly. It was a fire look, not that anyone ever cared to notice. Sometimes, he felt that no one ever noticed him; like he was the shirt under the coat.

“Jaliyah, that top is so cute!” said the girl next to her. Jaliyah had known her for years, and they even read each other’s diaries.

“Aww, love you!” Jaliyah replied, hugging her. She looked left, into the mirror, and her face wasn’t smiling yet. What was holding her back?

“Slay, bestie. Ugh, I’m so jealous that you don’t have this chem homework. This prof is so not chill. I mean, such a wonderful person, but I’m dying,” Brooklyn complained.

“Girl, you can’t back out on us tonight,” Jaliyah’s friend retorted playfully, “Oh, Jaliyah, can I see that eye liner?” The three of them stood in front of the mirror, who so generously flattered them.

“Come on, it’s almost eight!” a senior yelled from the hall. Brooklyn and her friend were giddy, barely suppressing screams, while Jaliyah just smiled.

“Aren’t you coming?” asked Brooklyn. Jaliyah shook out of a daydream, though immediately she forgot what it was about.

“Sorry, I just spaced out,” she replied, confused. The three girls bolted out of the room and to the door. Outside, the sorority was boarding a bus.

“I’m gonna go so hard tonight!” Jaliyah blurted, almost like she didn’t mean to say it.

“Me too, girl!” added her friend, shivering, “Damn, it’s so cold.”

Preston admired the snow-covered campus, illuminated by street lights and rosy decorations. Life seemed to pass by through the bus window, but time stood still. The plot was thickening with adventure and everything unexpected. A mint danced in his mouth, mimicking the butterfly in his stomach. The bus would stop eventually, but there was no destination.

“Hey bro, is this your first time out?!” asked the guy sitting next to him.

“Yeah, I’m just following everyone,” Preston replied, trying to sound chill. The guy shook his hand.

“That’s what we wanna see. It’s already a W for coming out and braving the elements. What’s your name?” the guy questioned, but in a friendly way.

“Preston. How about you?” Preston answered.

“Walker, and this is Ryder,” he introduced, gesturing to a boy in the seat across from them.

“Sup,” chimed Ryder enthusiastically, shaking Preston’s hand. Preston’s face suddenly began to glow, as if he lacked the muscles to frown. At last, the bus stopped, and people thanked the driver as they hurriedly stepped out onto the icy ground.

“That looks like the place to be,” Walker advised, pointing to a house fifty feet to the right. At least they didn’t have to go downhill. The lights were off, aside from a few strobe lights on the ceiling, and the music was deafening. Preston didn’t know any of the words, but his skeleton became sentient, twisting to the beat.

“Hey, you were in the musical last year, right?!” a random girl asked him, tapping him on the shoulder. He was startled, but also liked the attention.

“Yeah!” he spoke inches away from her, fearing he had lost the ability to project.

“Oh my God, you were so good! Are you doing theater again this year?!” her friend added, holding an elaborate mocktail. Preston took a moment to admire her sparkly red dress.

“Uh- yeah, I am. It’s a lot of work, but it’s fun!” he explained, starting to enjoy himself. All of a sudden, the music stopped, and the crowd started booing wildly.

“Fuck, how hard is it to get a working aux chord,” the first girl complained. Preston was about to say something, but the girls left abruptly when he opened his lips. Surveying the room, he noticed that everyone was chatting away with their friends, and he seemed like the only one who knew no one else. After hesitating a moment, he ran out after the girls.

The music rang in her hears and pounded in her chest. Her shoes were excited, and an awkward smile threatened to burst onto her face.

“Let's make the most of the night like we're gonna die young!” she screamed in perfect harmony with Brooklyn and the rest of the squad. The world bounced up and down, up and down, up and down. A dizzy spell nearly swept her off her feet, but her hands caught a burly shoulder. The circle had grown, and she now stood between two towering jocks, contemplating the line between a snake and a snack.

“How are you doing tonight?!” one of them asked her, politely striking a conversation.

“I’m good, how are you?!” she yelled back, turning to face him, inches of air between their bodies.

“Good! What’s your name?!” he replied as a new song started.

“Jaliyah!” she screamed at the top of her lungs over the roar of excitement.

“I’m Ryder, nice to meet you!” said the guy behind her.

“Walker!” added the guy in front of her, shaking her hand. Only they didn’t let go, and they began to dance. There was never a full embrace, just a ten minute, extremely passive fight for control of her. Or maybe not, that’s just how she remembered it. The conversation was incredibly, well, full of words.

“Dude, the special at the café was not it!” Ryder complained to Walker. They had already immersed Jaliyah in their daily routines.

“Right? I mean, how can you even call that a sandwich? Such a monstrosity!” Walker agreed.

“It’s a crap sandwich!” Ryder stated, as if he had coined a million-dollar revelation. The boys burst out laughing, but those words shook Jaliyah to her core. There she was, sandwiched between two dudes. She felt like the crap in the sandwich.

“Ugh! No!” she hollered in disgust, pushing her way through the crowd, barreling for the door. Frostbite was sweeter than sweaty hands, she reasoned. She began to climb the snow-covered death trap of a hill, when a boy slipped and tumbled down, landing face-first next to her.

“Holy shit, are you okay?!” she yelped, helping him straighten up.

“Yeah, I think so,” he answered, panting, “I appreciate it.” He was a few inches taller than her, and arguably handsome. Or maybe she couldn’t see too well in the dark, but he seemed nice.

“Is anything happening up there?” she asked, gesturing to the houses past the top of the hill. He shook his head.

“The aux chord broke in that one, and unless you like country, I wouldn’t go there,” he replied, pointing to another one, trying not to show that he didn’t know the names of the houses.

“Damn! Ugh,” she cursed, “You are not gonna believe the night I’m having.”

“Yup, it’s been a day for me too,” he remarked, almost chuckling, “Hey, what’s your name, by the way?” An unexpected tingle shot up her spine, and she peered into his eyes. It wasn’t the darkness; he didn’t look half bad.

“Jaliyah. And you?” she offered as bait, unsure if he would bite.

“Preston. Nice to meet you,” he replied, shaking her hand.

“Nice to meet you,” she almost whispered, but she to speak clearly enough for him to hear. His smile was infectious, and the nervous energy was off the charts.

“So... were you thinking of heading out or-” he started.

“Maybe we should just get in line,” she interrupted.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. They did not go back to his apartment, or the sorority house. Of all places, they went to the café, as friends. Friends? Sure, as friends. I mean, if I really knew how that worked, I guess I wouldn’t have written this story. Anyway, they were in the café, being friends, and trying that damn crap sandwich. While it was not made of crap, it didn’t exactly sit well in their mouths either.

“Aww, they actually made fun of your coat? That’s horrible,” Jaliyah consoled by helping him laugh it off.

“I still can’t get over the fact that those dudes were talking about this sandwich. While they were sandwiching you,” Preston countered, shifting the focus back to her.

“Like, bruh. Do you wanna dance or not?” she added, rolling her eyes. They smiled at each other again, this time for a few seconds.

“I hate poetry, but this is one hell of a poetic coincidence,” Preston observed, almost spacing out while staring at her.

“No, for real,” she replied with a gorgeous smile. Another three seconds ticked by, and Preston hadn’t even put down his sandwich. The width of the table shrunk like it was never there, and lips touched, then hugged, then wrestled. Until she pulled back, her top showered with condiments. People gasped, and she was at a loss for words.

“I’m so sorry!” I yelled, panicking, holding two slices of bread with nothing in between them.