Page 81 of Damnation
He crosses his arms over his chest, frowning. “What do you have in mind?”
“I’m expecting you back here at twelve o’clock sharp,” I answer.
***
After meeting with my reading group, I put Vince to work for an hour, forcing him to help me move. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, because I really wanted to settle into my new apartment with Thomas. But apparently, I don’t always get the things I want.
When we finish, I thank Vince for his help by offering to buy him lunch and then set him free. I take another shower before deciding to go down to the newspaper’s office. I spend a few hours wading through news articles and opinion pieces about the police’s abuse of power, occasionally pausing to peek at my phone. I pretend I’m checking the time but, actually, I’m hoping to see a text from Thomas. A vain hope.
At the stroke of six, I transfer all the material I’ve found onto a USB stick and leave the editorial office for the Marsy, where I begin my shift. Sometimes, I’m afraid that I’m going to end up losing my mind between all these commitments, but I have to admit that I like always having something to do. It keeps me busy and my mind occupied. And right now, I need that to avoid thinking abouthim.
Nineteen
“Four orders of spicy chicken wings for table eleven, plus two pitchers of light beer,” I tell Maggie quickly as she passes me on her way to the bar. It’s James’s usual order, but it’s not for him; this Saturday, for the first time since I’ve started working here, he hasn’t shown up at the bar.
I seat a family with kids at the last open table. I set the table, hand them their menus, and take their drink orders.
“Ugh, I don’t know about you, but I hate ’em,” Cassie exclaims, irritated. She leans back against the bar and looks out at our customers.
“Who do you hate?” I ask curiously when I get to the taps.
“Them,” she says, gesturing with her head at the family I’ve just seated. “How much do you wanna bet that, in another five minutes, those brats’ll be running around all over the place screaming like maniacs?”
I shake my head. “They’re just kids, Cassie. Give them some paper and crayons, and it’ll be like they aren’t even there,” I reassure her. From the look she shoots me, I don’t think she’s persuaded. I hand her some blank sheets of paper and a cup full of markers, and urge her to bring them over. She rolls her eyes but humors me.
When she returns, she fills two glasses of Sprite and asks me in her usual strident voice, “Hey, what happened to your boyfriend?” She looks up, scanning the room. “It feels kinda wrong, you know, not seeing him here,” she finishes in a vaguely sly tone of voice that I don’tappreciate at all.
I repress a grunt of frustration. I don’t have anything against Cassie, but she takes a little too much interest in Thomas’s personal life. She’s always asking me about him, how he’s doing, what he’s doing. And then there were the many times I’ve caught her undressing him with her eyes, probably when she thought I wasn’t watching. And of course, there’s the fact that I don’t actually have the faintest idea where he is today.
“He’s busy,” I say simply, not looking at her as I put the mugs of beer on a tray and take them over to table eleven, where I find Matt, Finn, and Vince, along with some other kids from school. I set the glasses down on the table and notice that Vince is waving the flyer that Athena gave me this morning in Matt’s face.
“Howell Hall, tonight, half past ten, are you in?” I hear him demand.
“Howell?” Matt echoes, confused. “Why would anyone from there invite you? Those people are snobs; if you don’t belong to their little clique, you’re out. Fuck them,” he says, before taking a pull from his mug and wiping the corners of his mouth.
“No one invited him, actually. He invited himself,” I say, inserting myself into the conversation. Matt gives me a questioning look, so I clarify: “This morning, I went to get the keys to my new suite in Howell. Vince demanded to come with me and got obsessed with the girl who was showing us around. Which is why he’s now acting like a stalker.”
“Hey! I’m not a stalker. There was a definite vibe between us.”
I almost laugh right in his face. “A ‘vibe’? She gave you the brush-off from start to finish. And how can you blame her? This morning you were looking like a college-edition Frank Gallagher.”
Everyone at the table bursts into laughter while Vince affectionately whacks me on the belly with the flyer.
“I assure you the vibes were there, and you would have seen them too if you weren’t so bummed out today. I’ll prove it to you tonight,” he grins, a devilish glint in his eye.
I shake my head and leave them to their conversation while I go over to an elderly couple’s table to collect their empty plates. WhenI put them back behind the bar, the front door jingles, and my heart momentarily skips a beat. Because yes, I am furious with Thomas, but even just seeing him would put my mind at ease. Instead, what I see when I lift my head just makes me even more anxious.
Logan.
He’s the last person I want to see right now. I take a deep breath as I watch him take a seat on the stool right in front of me.
“Hi,” I greet him tonelessly, rinsing a glass under a jet of warm water. “Can I get you anything?”
“Yes, a tonic water, thanks.” His head is bowed and his shoulders hunched. He looks like a kicked puppy when, actually, he should be angry at me and at Thomas for the beating he received. But he doesn’t seem to be the slightest bit resentful. And, seeing him like this, I’m starting to feel that annoying sense of guilt growing inside me again. How cruel would it be to stay mad at him after the way he was treated?
“Sure, I’ll get it right away.” I pour a glass for him, and he immediately lifts it to his mouth. I move over to the cash register, where I print out a customer’s bill. But then our eyes meet for a split second, and I look away like a coward.
“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” he says softly, drumming his fingers on the wooden surface of the bar.
