Page 123 of Two Marlboros

The less I tried to think about him, the more he came back into some conversation. It was one of those thoughts that never leaves you, that grates on your conscience when it’s dark and your worries are haunting some dream.

“Yes, he knows, but maybe it would be more accurate to say that he found out.”

“It happened more or less after that arranged date, didn’t it?”

I looked at him suspiciously, as if there had been a catch, but not knowing what.

“What makes you think that?”

Ash shrugged. “I don’t know. Since that day it’s like you guystook off.”

“Took off?”

He chuckled and went back to fiddling with the set of keys. “Nathan this, Nathan that.”

“Wait a minute, what are you implying?”

Ash laughed heartily; his gaze turned skyward. “Nothing, nothing. Especially not after what I found out today. However...”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I think you care.”

I huffed.

I huffed because in a way it was true and I didn’t want it to be. I had never thought too much about whether I cared for Nathan, but certainly his absence was being felt. Was I getting used to him?

My phone vibrated. I pulled it out of my pants pocket and looked at the screen: it was a text message from him.

“Speak of the devil...!”

I opened the text, and my eyes quickly scanned those five words. The first one was “asshole.” The others caused such an earthquake that I could not even repeat them in my mind. My chest began to swell at an irregular rate over which I had no control.

Asshole.

I was rethinking what I might have done wrong to him and couldn’t find a reason why. I began to fidget, and my temples were on the verge of exploding.

After re-reading it at least five times, Ashton’s last words rumbled in my head; and each time I went over that text, the last one more incredulously than the last, I only confirmed his statement.

I looked up at my colleague, and all I could do was hand him the phone, for him to read as well. With each scrolling letter, he opened his eyes wider and wider.

“Are you sure he sent it to the right person? Try and call him.”

I picked up the phone again without saying a word. What was that sweat that seemed to ooze from every pore of my skin? I couldn’t come up with an explanation for that text, and not having a clue to hold on to made my head feel empty and lost.

The word “clue” reminded me that Nathan had been quite upset when he had realized that I had gone to Webster Hall for work more than for him, but the matter seemed settled.

I followed Ashton’s advice and dialed the number. When it began to ring, I felt quite calm, certain that I would soon clear it up; but with each dial tone I felt the feeling build up inside me that he had not texted the wrong number at all. When he answered on the other end, however, I was quite certain.

“What do you want?”

All the confidence I generally flaunted disappeared like petals in the wind.

“Hi. I got your text.”

“Oh, good.”

His voice was cold, almost metallic. Communication sucked. And that was the first time we had ever argued.

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