Tangled Up in Daydreams by Rebecca Bloom

punch a hole right through her. Maybe Molly was being too harsh, but her and Liam’s do-or-die dance had begun months and months ago. Various issues began piling themselves up on her balance the closer they got and the more time they spent together.
    Molly had this theory that often in relationships, the thing that attracts you the most to a person is ultimately the thing that repels. Like with her coffee and how he remembered and watched every little nuance, Liam was capable of this insane level of attention. When Molly was around him, nothing got past him, no twist of her hair went ignored. He ate her up with his eyes and drank her in with his words. His attentiveness was a third person in the room with them whenever they made love or counted sheep. It made Molly more aware of herself than she had ever been, how she carried herself, how she fidgeted when she was nervous, and when she was horny how she would tug at her left earlobe. Their relationship was a finely tuned mechanism, all the bolts were in place and complemented each other.
    But, as time went on, Molly came to realize that Liam’s ability to focus so intently on something or someone was not just special to Molly. It was how he was with everything in his life. He was all about details and delineating each and every environment he was in. Every person he came in contact with fell under this gaze. This level of concentration was given to everyone, but as easy as Molly could be with him and feel the most seen she had ever been in her life, she could also just as easily slide to the fringes and feel invisible. She could cease to exist.
    Molly began to understand this quality about Liam on her twenty-seventh birthday. She planned this shindig at a bowling alley deep in Hollywood. Since Molly wanted things to be a little dramatic, she requested that everyone dress up, slicked back hair, high ponytails, etc. Twenty-five of her nearest and dearest donned their best bowling shirts and jeans and threw down their best strikes. Molly had on this tight pink snap-front shirt that Jaycee had bought her with BUNNY embroidered in red cursive letters. (“Bunny” was Molly’s bowling alter ego.) Jay had a green shirt with JOANIE sewn in black near her breast. Drinks, cigarettes, and balls flowed, and the only thing missing besides a DJ who played something other than Top Forty boy-band beats was Liam. Molly had spoken with him at six, laid his shirt on her bed (they weren’t living together at this point but he had a key), and left to get a quick bite with Jay without seeing him. Liam had mentioned a few things he needed to get done and instead of getting dinner he would have to meet her there. No biggie. But it was eleven and he was still nowhere to be found.
    â€œWhere’s Liam?” Jay asked as she handed Molly yet another Jack and Coke.
    â€œGood question, Joanie.” Checking her cell in her bag to see if he had called. “No messages.”
    â€œWhat is he doing?”
    â€œNo idea. Some errand.” Looking to the door.
    â€œOn your birthday?”
    â€œYeah, whatever.” Still looking at the door.
    â€œThink if you look hard enough he will materialize?”
    â€œMaybe.” Smiling a weak smile.
    â€œHe’ll be here.” Sensing Molly’s deflating spirit. “Cheers!”
    The girls clinked glasses and Molly chugged down the sweet liquid. Her clear pink day was getting a bit muddier. It was becoming more mauve. Molly tried to throw herself into her own party, dancing to ’N Sync, bowling a string of gutter balls, and drinking heavily. By midnight, Molly was drunk and had a mild case of whiplash from scanning the door too frequently.
    â€œJay, I need cake.” Stumbling slightly as she made her way to her friend.
    â€œI thought you wanted to wait until he got here.”
    â€œFuck it. Let’s do it.”
    Jaycee went over to the Ralph’s box resting on the counter behind the group. She