Page 39 of Two Marlboros

“Alright, if you insist.”

I twisted the ten dollars back between my fingers and put it back from where I had taken it, intending to give it to him later. I was pleased with myself, proud that I had succeeded in convincing him. Just a great feat.

“I have to stop by the University library. Come on, don’t look at me like that, it’s nearby!”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I didn’t say anything. Let’s go.”

The speech to be made was simple. I had to apologize for my insistence and insensitivity, for tearing his feelings to pieces like that. Yet at that moment he seemed so unconcerned that itseemed almost a crime to return to the subject. Perhaps he was trying not to think about it and was succeeding; how could I destroy that tranquility? I walked at a slow pace, hoping to come up with a sensible speech, but Alan’s attitude left me so stunned that it thwarted all my attempts: his gaze was not lost in the void as usual, nor aimed at his feet; he was watching the cars whizz by, following the crowds crossing at the traffic lights. He seemed to have re-established contact with the world.

Without even realizing it, however, we arrived at the library. It was truly only a few minutes away, and I realized I had missed an opportunity. I had had an opportunity to not look as stupid as I usually did and instead had blown it. Typical. Not to mention that I had thrown away ten dollars.

As soon as we stopped, he stepped back and craned his neck. He laid his gaze on me.

“Architecture? So it’s true.”

I felt myself flaming. “Why? Is there something weird about it?”

“I don’t know, I thought you were actually studying McDonald’s science.”

I didn’t have the courage to sustain his gaze. I only managed to sketch a smile so as not to make him feel inappropriate, after which I grabbed the handle and pushed the door open.

We stood in line in silence. I could feel Alan’s eyes on me as I watched the other guys in line, hoping my turn would come soon. I was trying to hide my disappointment, because once again Alan had summed up my life in a single sentence; but no matter how hard I tried to hide it, I couldn’t fool anyone, especially him, who perhaps knew better than I did how to put a patch on raw nerves. Throughout the waiting he avoided any questions, letting an awkward silence creep in between us.

McDonald’s science.

Perhaps it was the only faculty I really deserved. I was reminded of my father: this time, too, he was right.

I asked the secretary for the book I had reserved. I turned to Alan, and he seemed like a fine man indeed, with those respectful manners and such a serious attire - sure, it was for work, but the buttoned cuffs were a clear sign of civility. I thanked the attendant and we both headed out of the building. The sun had already begun its descent behind the skyscrapers, and I remembered once again all of Alan’s commitments and the time I had taken away from him.

“So, do you want to be an architect?”

He asked me with sincere interest, without malice. But what could I answer? No, I did not want to become an architect? I had chosen those studies and that faculty only not to feel like a failure? That I would only disappoint everyone, as scripted?

None of those questions came out of my hodgepodge of thoughts, and I simply gave a shrug.

“I try.”

Affirmation not entirely untrue, just to keep my conscience straight.

He gave me a complicit, mute, almost telepathic look as his lips curved into a barely sketched smile. I lowered my gaze and felt tiny, miserable, almost wrong. I was twenty-one years old and didn’t even know what to do with my life. I knew I would continue to flounder in the sea of indecision for much longer, only to eventually drown, unable to shape myself.

Tiny little thing. Miserable. Wrong.

“Well, I guess some more difficult subjects can happen now and then. It happens to everyone, but that doesn’t mean you have to put yourself down.”

I really had to feel sorry for him if he had gone so far as to put aside what had happened earlier to cheer me up.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t you have any classmates to study with?”

I thought back to a few afternoons spent in the company of Ryan, the one who would become the perfect architect because he understood everything right away and didn’t need to have topics explained to him at least twice or use pathetic tricks to memorize abstruse names. I also thought of Laura, who would surely misunderstand my request to study together.

“No, also because I am too easily distracted. It would take someone serious, ready to scold me if I start telling some of my bullshit...”

I instinctively looked up at Alan and it was like running a DNA test: he matched the description I had just given perfectly. I had before me the person I was looking for, whom I could already imagine scolding me coldly and sternly at every attempt at distraction.

“Don’t even think about it.”

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