Page 66 of Collision
In one of her films, Greta Garbo once said that any lie will find believers as long as you tell it with enough force. So come on, Greta, let’s see if you were right. “Yep,” I said.
Thomas gives a resigned sigh and shakes his head, as if he didn’t believe a word I said. “Let’s hear it, then: Why, during your questionable visit to ‘the neighborhood,’ did you end up at my door?”
“I came to return Leila’s clothes to you,” I replied, congratulating myself on managing a plausible, spur-of-the-moment lie.
“You could have gone straight to her. She lives in the building next door.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Bullshit. You also could have given them to me tomorrow. Why’d it have to be tonight?”
“Enough with the questions!”
“Don’t get worked up. I’m just trying to understand. Yesterday you make a scene, saying I’m tormenting you, and now you’re showing up at my room in the middle of the night.” He pauses and continues in a more soothing tone: “What is going on inside that little head of yours, Ness?”
He tilts his head slightly, waiting for my response, and reveals what is obviously a lipstick stain on his neck. My breath catches. Seriously?He has the nerve to show up at my house wearing clear evidence of his most recent sexcapade? Suddenly, I am filled with rage.
“I don’t know!” I snap, and it’s the truth. If I’d known that, while I was beating myself up over my outburst, he was out getting laid, I would never have gone looking for him. No way.
He takes one last drag on his cigarette and, looking me steadily in the eyes, tosses the butt to the ground, where he crushes it with his toe. “While you come up with a more believable excuse than that, why don’t you let me in? It’s cold out here,” he adds, blowing a final plume of smoke into the air.
“No way. Good night.” I make to close the door, but he blocks it with one foot.
“I wasn’t really asking,” he says, pushing the door open with one arm and stepping over the threshold. He advances on me until we are far too close, just inches from each other. He dips his head slightly to whisper in my ear, “For the record, you look hot…” I can feel his eyes sliding along my body, lingering on my breasts, and I remember too late that I’m not wearing a bra. Instinctively, I cross my arms over my chest. Thomas caresses my cheek. His knuckles are cold and the contrast between his skin and mine makes me shiver. “even in pajamas,” he concludes in a whisper.
Breathe, Vanessa. Breathe. Everything is under control.
I gesture for him to leave, before the tingling in my belly overwhelms my rational mind. But he pretends not to notice. “Thomas!” I squeal, as he brushes past me without a care in the world.
“Get out. Right now! You can’t just go walking into people’s houses uninvited!” I dash after him as he makes his way further inside.
“Hmm…I don’t recall inviting you to my dorm, and yet you showed up there.” He stands with his back to me, hands in his pockets, peering around the room.
“No, of course not. You were clearly…busy.” I clench my fists and immediately regret saying it. I sound jealous, and wouldn’t that be stupid? He turns around, giving me a confused head tilt. “You have lipstick on your neck,” I say, trying to sound unbothered.
No reaction. Not even a twinge of surprise or shame at being caught out like that.
“Oh, this?” He wipes the smudge from his neck with one hand. “A dalliance.”
A dalliance. That’s all women are to him, I guess. Just something to do. Something to pass the time.
“All right, now what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. It’s good to see exactly how much you value the women you sleep with. There’s something to like about you, Thomas: you’re always consistent,” I spit venomously before turning my back on him to shut the front door.
“I value them exactly as much as they want to be valued.”
“I don’t care what you do, Thomas.” I needlessly arrange some business cards stowed in the drawer of the hall cabinet; anything to avoid those eyes. “You are free to do whatever—or whomever—you want. It’s none of my business.”
“Whatever you say. Anyway, I’m still waiting.”
I look at him, confused. “Waiting for what?”
“I’m waiting to hear whatever new excuse you’re going to come up with to explain your visit to my dorm in the middle of the night.”
“Fine. I came to your dorm because I wanted to apologize to you. Are you happy now?”
Thomas looks surprised.
