The Owl Medallion

I knew I was in trouble the second I locked eyes with that dark haired biker, slouched across the sticky bar counter.

Eyes locked from across the crowded room, he raised an eyebrow at me. Everything else seemed to fade away. His smile was slow, lazy; as though he had all the time in the world. He raised his beer in the air, and mockingly mimicked a cheers in my direction. The dark leather of his jacket gleamed in the dull red and blue of the sketchy, flickering lighting. Everything about him was unhurried, confident, sure. He was as much a part of this small town dive bar as the creaky, rusted black stool I was seated on. He was definitely a type.

I'd know that type anywhere. It was the same type that had left my heart in a million shattered fragments, littered carelessly all across the floor of a shared aparment six months ago. The type that walked out on 4 years of building a life together, brushing away all of my hopes and dreams as though they were little more than a speck of dirt on his biker boots.

I let my gaze fall. Yep, this one wore the exact same boots as the last one. Of course he did. I raised my eyes back to his, and grimaced openly, then turned my back to him. Let him know exactly what I thought of his type. Not a type to ever be trusted again.

Stacy and Ann were seated along the bar counter to my left, arguing with the bartender about how much tequila he'd poured into our shot glasses. Already irritated with the bickering, I grabbed all three glasses.

"To alcohol," I declared, tipping my head back and downing all three shots in rapid succession. The familiar fire flamed down the back of my throat, a pleasant promise of the blackout soon to come. Stacy squealed.

Ann just laughed, "Another round I think."

We all ignored how the bartender rolled his eyes at us as he poured three more shot glasses. We downed them in a flash. A rivulet of sweat ran down my hairline to my chin. God, this bar was hot.

I don't know how much time passed, but then I was dancing. Whirling, twirling, wild spins as I lost myself to pulsing beats and swaying bodies. Blissful nothing, wrapped in layers of light and sound. Floating, ecstatic. Out of my own head. Lost in the fray, and soothed by the liquor, my poor shredded heart once again felt alive. Felt unbroken. I raised my hands above my head, and Stacy, Anne and I danced and danced and danced.

After some time I stumbled back to the bar, in search of another drink. Maybe a vodka soda. I could use some hydration as well as liquor. I'd completely about the dark haired biker, until I realised I'd somehow ended up slumping into a stool on his end of the bar. Sitting right beside him. Little jolts of electricity suddenly seemed to shoot through my skin. I was acutely aware of how close my arm lay to his, across the bar top.

I gritted my teeth. No. Never another one of these. Never again.

So I pointedly ignored the biker, leaning over the sticky counter top to wave down the bartender. Despite the noise, the swaying crowd and the haze of liquor surrounding me like a fog I could feel his eyes upon me.

"Hello," he said eventually. Did he sound amused? I eyed him, and nodded curtly.

"Come here often?"

I couldn't stop myself from snorting. "Did you seriously just use that line?"

He grinned, and somehow it made me notice the colour of his eyes. Like liquid caramel. "Did you seriously just respond to said line?" He responded.

"Point for the wit," I conceded. The bartender finally noticed me, and I placed my order.

The biker cocked his head to one side. "Having a heavy night, are we?"

"Judging other people, are we?" I shot back, my tone sacchirine.

The biker raised his beer, in the same cheers motioned he'd made before. "Touché, I did sound judgemental."

Do not get involved. I ignored him, tapping my foot impatiently, waiting for the bartender to finish up with my drink.

The biker slid closer to me, extending a hand. "I'm Aleks," he said.

"And I'm not interested," I retorted.

A blink. The hand drew back. "Ouch," he said mildly. "But fair enough. Have a great evening." He angled his body away from me, ending our conversation.

I stared at his back for a moment, chewing my lip. The bartender plopped my drink on the counter in front of me. "Who's paying?" He asked, bored.

Aleks politely ignored us. I felt myself flush, "I am, they're mine."

I quickly paid, fumbling a little with the cash, and made to stand up. The world tilted entirely. I stumbled, and suddenly the floor was rushing up to greet me.

Strong hands gripped my waist, halting my drunken face-plant. Like a new born fawn, I scrabbled frantically to my feet. My legs felt like jelly, unable to hold me up. Utterly useless. Without realising it, I found myself silently leaning into Aleks. Wordlessly, he helped me back into my stool, and then bent over to retrieve my now empty vodka glass. I stared down at the bar counter, heat flushing my cheeks. Why could't the floor just open up and swallow me whole?

"I think you may need to sit for a little while," he said quietly. "Hang on, I'll get you some water."

"No, no- oh no you don't," I snapped. "I get my own drinks."

Aleks held his hands up in surrender and sat back down. I realise I'd not said thank you. A small wave of shame wash through me at how quickly I'd snapped at him. The silence stretched on awkwardly between us, as I nursed my water. Every few minutes I tested my legs.

They failed me greviously each time. And with every passing minute I grew more and more aware of the biker besides me, and how we weren't speaking.

"Thank you," I mumbled eventually, sipping my water. "For not letting me face plant."

He snorted.

The silence stretched. Five, six heart beats.

"I'm Olivia," I offered tentatively.

Aleks tilted his head, peering at me side ways through long lashes. He was quite beautiful, in the way that made my head go totally empty.

"Aleks," he responded. A wan smile crossed his lips, "as you already know."

"I appreciate you not letting me get a spontaneous nose job right then Aleks."

To my surprise, he laughed. A full on, proper belly laugh. It did something to my belly. Something that felt suspiciously fluttery.

Oh no you don't. Don't you dare.

"I've not seen you around here before," Aleks swiveled his chair to face me, "are you new in town?" He had to lean in close, so I could hear him over the music.

"Passing through," I said. "We've been on a road trip, this is our last stop before we head home." I nodded back to the dance floor, where Stacy and Ann were dancing, trying to look like they weren't too interested in our conversation.

"Small town to stop in," Aleks grinned, "and so many other beautiful things around here. Worth it?"

We were but a whisper away from each other. My heart pounded so against my rib cage it could have had tiny fists.

"I'm not sure yet," I murmured demurely, "I suppose the jury's still out."

What the hell was happening?

Sickly sweet vanilla and sweat, and then Stacy and Ann were there, arms thrown around me. I laughed as Stacy, tipsy as hell, snuggled in close. "Do you know how much I love you?" She demanded.

"More than all the tequila shots in the world," Ann announced, nodding. She faced Aleks, one arm around me, the other hand on her hip. "Hello, biker boy," she purred, "what are you doing with our Olivia?"

Aleks, to his credit, just smiled widely. He smiled a lot. "Hoping to get to know her," he said. "But I hear you guys are just passing through."

Stacy crushed her hip against mine conspiratorially. Ann peered up at Aleks from beneath her fringe. "You're pretty cute," she announced.

"Am I?" Aleks's question was to Ann, but his gaze caught mine. Something definitely fluttery fizzed in my belly.

Stacy pulled Ann's arms from around my neck, and winked at me. "Well we're about to head back to the hostel, what time shall I expect you Olive?"

My heart skipped several beats at the choice she offered me. Go home with them now, or stay. Going home was safe, but staying... No, no, going was definitely the better option.

But I couldn't exactly walk right then, and the hotel was minutes away. And Stacy was already half carrying Ann. Wouldn't it be unfair to ask Stacy to help me home too?

If I stayed Ann and Stacy would get home quicker. I should stay, for them. It wasn't for the biker.

"Go ahead guys," I said nonchalantly, as though my pulse wasn't pounding in my ears. "I'll be back in a little bit."

Ann cackled, and Stacy grinned. They gave me one last cuddle, and disappeared into the throng. Aleks twisted to wave goodbye to them.

As he twisted back to face me I caught a gleam of silver, half-hidden beneath his collar. Squinting slightly, I realized he wore a dark chord acround his neck, with some sort of medallion hanging off it.

I smirked, "cute necklace."

Aleks pulled the leather chord off his neck, and lay the silver medallion in the palm of his hand, tilting it up so it shone in the red and blue bar lights. It was a very simple, yet striking design. A barn owl, perched on a slender tree branch, glared up at us.

"I picked it up in a market in Eastern Europe," Aleks said, running his thumb across the owl. "I don't know why I like it so much, I've worn it every day."

His face softened slightly, and suddenly he looked so much younger. More open. Like he wasn't that type. Maybe he wasn't that type? He seemed like he was different, like he wasn't Bri-Suddenly I realised what I'd done. I'd chosen to stay, instead of leave. My stomach clenched. God Olivia, stop. Walk away.

But my legs were still utter jelly, so I opted to recline back in my chair, putting distance between us. "Pretty grumpy owl," I snipped.

Aleks didn't react to the bratty tone of my voice. He simply turned the silver barn owl over in his palm, and held it out to me. "It's supposed to be good luck," he responded, "apparently owls were seen as symbols of wisdom. They were always associated with Goddesses."

Boy was he wrong. That type always thought they were so smart. "Actually, that's not totally true," I retorted, "back in Ancient Rome they were omens of evil. If an owl flew over someone's house it was thought that they were cursed, and would die soon. They were also seen as a sign of witches and black magic. It was only when the Romans began worshipping Minerva that owls became symbols of luck." Oh, yeah, there was more than a smidge of smugness in my voice. So much that I hadn't realised how much I'd said.

But Aleks just smiled at me. A great wide, open smile that lit up his face and eyes. Why did my heart just jump like that? No! I slugged back another sip of water.

"You know your history," he said, "how come?"

A little tug at my heart.

"I was a history major, " I admitted, "and I kind of read history stuff. All the time."

"My favourite period to read about is the Dark Ages."

Wait, what? I stared at him. He stared right back.

"You like history?" God I sound so dumb.

"There is history in all mens' lives," he quoted. "Shake-"

"Shakespeare," I interrupted.

This time, the smile he gave me was matched by the one I gave him. I looked at those caramel eyes, and felt the threads holding me down start to detach. Like I could float. Like I wasn't the same girl who'd walked broken-hearted into this bar.

We sat in those two creaky chairs and talked and talked until the bartender threatened to throw us out. We realised we only lived 50 miles apart. We both loved literature as well as history, and we both could not eat pickles on our burgers. We both wanted to travel, and we both loathed loud, obnoxious tourists. As the hours past, I forgot everything except who was in front of me, and how his eyes turned to gold when he laughed hard enough. The fluttering in my belly grew.

Eventually the bartender threatened to call the police if we didn't vacat ehis premises. Slapping a few 10s on the counter, we made our way outside into the bar carpark. My stomach hurt from so much laughter.

"Let's get you home," Aleks said, as we shrugged on our jackets outside. "It's 4am, way past bedtime. You've got to finish your trip tomorrow."

"Mmmmm," I tested my legs, checking they were ok to walk. Aleks watched, amused. "Are you walking to the hotel, or can I call you a cab?" He asked.

Oh.

A shot of disappointment streaked through me, dampening the flutters. The thought of saying good bye dulled that little light that had finally sputtered back to life, after six dark months.

I opened my mouth to respond, but a sharp crack sounded. I whirled around as a dark shape flew across the sky, swooping low.

"Owl!" I cried, "like your necklace!" Before I could stop myself, I was tripping delightedly across the car park, watching as the owl swooped and dove. Like a total six year old. Aleks trailed me at a respectful distance, laughing at my total joy.

At the end of the car park, a wooden fence divided the concrete from a large grassy field. The owl sat up in the branches of a great oak tree at the center of the field, his eyes little glittering orbs. I paused by the fence, and stared, utterly transfixed.

Aleks didn't pause, he hopped right over the wooden fence. "Come on," he whispered in excitement, "let's see if we can get closer."

I grabbed the top of the fence and hoisted one leg up, ready to follow him. But suddenly that little voice in my head shouted at me. I froze.

Slowly, I let go of the fence, and took a step back. Aleks, framed by the owl sitting in that great oak behind him, turned to face me. His eyes widened, seeing me back away. "Oh god, Olive, I'm so sorry if I freaked you out," he said. "Of course you don't want to run into a field with a random guy you just met. I'm sorry!"

He grabbed the fence rails, ready to pull himself back over.

"Wait."

He paused, confused.

"It... it's not that," I said softly. I took a step closer to the fence, trying to work through the emotions swirling inside of me. My head screamed to run away, that I'd already spent too long with this mysterious boy and his caramel eyes. But my heart, and my instinct...

I felt so safe.

Aleks's eyes scanned my face, and he extended a palm across the fence to me. "Will you jump?" He asked quietly.

I stared at that out stretched hand, and I knew he was asking about more than just jumping over the fence physically in front of me. Would I jump my emotional fence?

Could I join him on the other side of this yawning chasm? Was I ready to take a chance, and to risk falling again? My heart beat against the cage of my ribs.

I let my eyes meet his, and I unapologetically let him see the fear I felt. "I'm scared," my voice was as small as I felt.

Aleks stepped back up to the fence, standing as close to me as the wooden rails would allow. "Of what?" He asked softly. I could detect no tone of mocking, or frustration with me. Only genuine curiosity, opening a place for me to speak. An offering of a safe place, should I want it.

The decision lay in front of me. I could go back, or I could go forwards. I could slink off, leaving this beautiful boy standing alone in the field and finish my road trip to return to my empty, lonely apartment. Or I could take a chance. I could climb over this fence, and over the barrier in my mind. I could begin down this new path. A path with a destination I could not possibly determine.

Aleks waited, his caramel eyes warm. The ghost of a smile played upon his lips, as he waited for the outcome of my internal war. His palm lay upturned on the fence, open for me should I wish to grab hold. I searched his face, daring myself to find any darkness, any sign of cruelty, of warning.

I saw none.

I gazed at him, and Aleks gazed back in open, frank assessment. He had lain his offer out. Take a literal leap of faith. Below his jaw, peeking through his shirt collar, the owl stared out at me. Behind Aleks, the real barn owl let out a low hoot.

Omen of good, or of bad luck?

Screw it, maybe we make our own luck. What is life without adventure? Without taking chances?

Those beautiful dark caramel eyes lit up as I reached across the divide, and I grasped his hand. I clasped it to me as I clambered clumsily, determinedly, over that barrier. As I landed beside him, the cool grass crunching under our boots, my heart felt lighter, and more joyous than it had in six months.

***This is based on the very true story of how my husband and I met, four years ago. Except with us it was a fox, not an owl! But I am so glad I trusted my instinct, and I leapt over that fence. Life is about taking those leaps of faith.***