'Round Midnight

Nerina had fallen asleep in Eric's car, but she opened her eyes once they reached uneven road for a short while. Se saw the towering school's structure looming over them. They almost reached the destination, Eric just needed to park his luxury car in a location that was befitting of its status.

Once Eric parked the car and his music stopped blaring from the speakers, Nerina quietly asked, "Could we stop by the library first?". It was hard to say no to her request. Now that they were in the quiet space of the car, her voice sounded just like honey. Coupled with her uniquely extravagant look, she seemed to be a worthy prize for Eric.

Nerina looked to be quite at home in the library's facilities. She went straight to the music section, and in a row of wooden shelves were records all lined up neatly. She took the tiles that interested her, but she also looked inside the sleeve and took a look at the borrowing record. Since records were becoming increasingly rare and difficult to replace, the library made the student write down his or her name on the slip of paper. She seemed to be searching for someone specifically, like she was trying to predict his music taste. If Eric tried to peek while she wa searching, she'd bury the slip of paper within her chest and hide it as best as she could.

In the end, this was what she picked out:

As Falls Wichita, so Falls Wichita Falls - Pat Metheny and Lyle Mays.
"I think this one will be next..." She mumbled to herself.

Kind of Blue - Miles Davis.
"Should try a classic..."

Eastern Sounds - Yuseef Lateef.
"Yuseef Lateef died earlier this year." She whispered. Nerina frowned. She looked like she was about to bawl her eyes out. For a girl that didn't have clocks, calendars, a phone or a car, she seemed deeply invested in Jazz musicians if she knew that someone had died.

She borrowed them out and went into the listening room, and added an Ella Fitzgerald record for herself. The names on all three sheets were of students that Eric wouldn't have recognized. She wrote out "Nerina Ondo" in unjoined, neat right-leaning letters. Her last name sounded Asian, but it also sounded like the French word for 'wave', a little.

Some of these were only three-hour or one day loans, so Nerina planned to listen to those first. She planned to get through these albums by today. Then maybe she would eat an early dinner and hopefully make it back to her home before the sun set.

"I want to listen to it here." Nerina insisted. "You can listen too." The private booth was dark and to an area of the library that had less traffic and less distractions from copy machines, people walking past or whatever ambient noise was to be found in a library. She put on As Falls Wichita, So Falls Wichita Falls.

The music was calm and soft, unlike the hard edge and frenzy like other Jazz, such as Art Blakey. The opening title piece was about twenty minutes, perhaps too long for a pop aficionado of three to four minute songs to endure and listen through all the way.

"I like September Fifteenth, dedicated to Bill Evans. But I also like Bill Evans. He plays the piano like this." She hung her head low, her face now parallel to the ground, and imitated playing the piano. She could already tell that Eric wasn't a jazz fan by the music he played in his car, so she told him all she knew.

"Shh. This part is good."

Nerina did not try and push him away, however. Instead, the girl leaned in towards Eric, but her eyes were focused on the record player as it spinned in rotations, the needle wavering up and down every so often. How could Eric say Jazz could be so relaxing? Jazz was so diverse and varied. She twisted her mouth, not pleased with his statement. She should have borrowed Art Blakey's A Night in Tunisia if she really wanted to wake him up.

"Go and sleep if you want."

Her focus and dedication to listening to songs without lyrics and singers was uncannily like someone else he knew.

Nerina listened intently to the music through the headphones. It felt like she ignored Eric's statement entirely. but after a few seconds, she answered simply:

"Okay. I'm going to return this. It's a three-hour loan. The rest have to be returned in a week."

Pat Metheny stopped playing, but the record rotated, the needle picking up nothing. Nerina took the needle off the record, and she delicately put the record back in its sleeve. Inside she was praying that the one named 'Félix Tenebre' would borrow this next. Then he would see her name and know her. She went outside of the listening room to give it back to the reception so it would be shelved.

Once she returned, she looked through the remaining records.

"I think I want to listen to Miles Davis next..."

It felt like she was going to be here all evening if listening to records was what she wanted to do.

Nerina seemed to agree when she was piling up the records in a neat stack. When she turned around, she got a wet faceful of something pressed against her lips. At first she didn't like it and felt that maybe she should protest against this, but as her lips warmed against his, it felt good, and she didn't resist. Nerina applied a little more pressure on her end of the kiss, reciprocating it.

"That was my first kiss... I just met you. Is this... Normal?"

Her elderly mother always told her to save her kiss for someone special. She wondered if Eric was her 'someone special'. But he didn't like Jazz, or know who Bill Evans was, or even act as though he cared about Yuseef Lateef dying earlier this year. He was nice, and handsome, and seemed to know a lot about the world compared to her. Maybe she would like him, just the same.

"I am hungry. I just had the ice cream, and for breakfast I ate... Leftover sea urchin." She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. But inside she felt incredibly sad.