“The Last Time I Saw Adrian Terranova”

The last time I saw Adrian Terranova was at Angelo’s, an Italian restaurant across the street from the post office. It was late September, and I was wearing the purple blouse with a tiny heart on it that my mother got for me last year. I made sure I told him that it was the last time I was seeing him before either of us ordered anything, as to save the embarrassment of having to ask for the check before the food even arrived.

“You don’t mean that,” he said, biting into his fifth complimentary breadstick while making full eye contact with me. I did mean it; I told him. I didn’t want to see him anymore.

“What did I do?” I told him it wasn’t anything in particular. I told him I just couldn’t see myself with him anymore. I told him I wanted to focus on my career and didn’t have time for a serious relationship. I told him a lot of things. He just stared at me, incessantly chewing on that breadstick. His hand reached into the breadbasket, groping blindly, only to find that it was now completely empty.

“You’re not serious.” I stood up and apologized, but said I had to go. He just kept staring at me funny, like I was playing some convoluted prank and he was waiting for the punchline. I said goodbye and left the restaurant. That was the last time I saw him.

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The next last time I saw Adrian Terranova, he was lying next to me on my chenille tweed sectional and his feet were on my lap. I had tried sliding them off multiple times, but somehow, they kept crawling their way back on top of me, making it incredibly difficult to balance my computer in my hands above them. The TV was on, and he was holding the remote with both hands, resting it on his chest. I asked him to turn the volume down.

“I like it when the volume’s up,” he said. In a serious tone, I said I was trying to work, and I couldn’t focus with the volume that loud. He pointed his foot towards my pair of earbuds resting on the stool on the far side of the room. I pushed his feet off me and stood up, turning off the TV.

“Why’d you turn it off?” I said. I didn’t know why, but that was it. I finally said, “Look, I want you to get out of my apartment immediately! I can’t bear to see you again!”

“You don’t mean that.” 

Frustrated, I walked into the kitchen and began washing dishes. I didn’t make eye contact. Two minutes later, I heard the door slam shut, and I poked my head into the living room to see he had left. I went back and kept washing dishes, and that was the last time I ever saw him.

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Well, not really. The following last time I saw Adrian Terranova, we were in a blue Honda Civic parked outside of my apartment. He was blasting the classic rock station at full volume. We had just had dinner with my mom, who wore her nice dress with the dandelions on it that she only wears to parties. He brought wine, which was nice… I guess. My mom just kept looking at me with a sad smile the whole meal. I kept glancing at her, trying to figure out what she was thinking. Maybe that’s all she was doing too!

“Come on, what happened?” Adrian said, grabbing my hand. I didn’t really have an answer, so I just sort of looked away. He turned the radio down two clicks.

“Do you want me to walk you to the front door?” I laughed. I don’t know why I laughed. In an instant I declared, “I don’t want to go to your friend’s birthday party the next day. I need a break!” Even though I said all that, he just drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. 

“Okay,” he said. The door clicked open. I walked to the door of the apartment building, fumbling around for my keys in my pocket, only to realize that the keys were in my bag, and my bag was in his car, and when I turned around to go and grab my bag, his car was already gone from the parking lot. I considered calling him, but I realized this was the last time I would see him, and I didn’t want to see him again because this had to be the last time. I called my neighbor instead.

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          Now, finally, the last time I saw Adrian Terranova, we were at the West Garden Multiplex seeing a re-release of  Back to the Future. I expressed that it was my favorite movie and was shocked when he said he had never seen it before. We had been to many movies in the past two years, and he usually fell asleep after a half hour. He said it was the way the seats felt in the movie theater that made him want to fall asleep. He promised he wouldn’t fall asleep for this movie and would stay awake for me. “Really? I’m having a hard time believing you.” I uttered right after he supposedly “promised.” 

He made it twenty-three minutes. At twenty-three minutes, I looked over and there he was, his head tilted over the back of the seat, one eye twitching uncontrollably. I waved a hand in front of his face. Nothing. I nudged his arm. No movement. He was smiling. I’d never seen somebody smile while sleeping before, but there he was, grinning like a fool. 

I grabbed my bag and headed for the exit. I’m ending things for good this time. I’m never seeing him again after this. I swear, this is the last time I’m going to see Adrian Terranova for the rest of my life.

I made it to the exit and stopped. Those four red letters glowed above it, beckoning and teasing me. My hand twitched. I turned around for one last look, and there he was, his mouth sagging open like a horse. God, I hated him. I hated everything about him. I knew everything about him, and I despised every single piece of this useless information. I wanted to cry and scream and throw my bag at him and curse him for ruining me. I looked back at the door. It was big and cold. 

I was never really going to leave that movie theater… was I?

I sat back down. He started snoring. I held his hand and slumped back into the seat. That safe, stupid seat. He was right, I guess. They were perfect for falling asleep in.