Page 21 of Two Marlboros

“Yeah, it’s been...” I whispered, then counted in my head, “...three years?”

He laughed, in a lower voice than I remembered.

“An eternity. I’m sorry I never heard from you again, you know?”

I nodded, too stunned to say anything. He came closer, at a distance I thought was rather intimate. I didn’t mind.

“Where were you going?” he continued.

In that instant I remembered Alan and the date. The trumpeting noise of car horns came rushing back into my ears, as did the cackling of that city. I checked my watch: I was still on time.

“I have a date at the arena just ahead.”

I almost regretted telling him the truth, and I didn’t know why. He looked sorry and my heart lost a pulse. It had been three years since I had thought of him, although I knew that, somehow, he had continued to live inside me.

“What a pity, I’m going in the other direction. I really should be going.”

He looked at me in a spirit of resignation, for it seemed that he really could not stay a minute longer.

“It was good to see you again, Nathan. And I’m glad you’re seeing someone, really. Ah,” he quickly pulled out his cell phone, “I don’t have your number anymore, would you give it to me? So, we can talk in the next few days, if you want.”

Was he happy to hear that I was dating someone?

“Yes, of course. Gladly.”

Maybe my voice had come out a little shrill, maybe I had spoken with an edge of excitement; I didn’t have time to realize it. I dictated my number, and he saved it in his phone. My heart was pumping crazily. It was beating hard and fast, causing continuous fluctuations in my stomach that I tried to stop, because those feelings made no sense, not after all that time.

“I’ll give you a call, then. See you soon.”

“See you soon!”

I replied with unusual enthusiasm, and a shiver shook my body from top to bottom as my eyes followed his tall, slender figure walking away waving goodbye. I swallowed again, only to realize that my throat was dry.

I let at least two or three more traffic light shots pass before I came back to reality. I kept reliving his smile, his voice rougher than I remembered, the touch of his fingers on my cheek.

Nelly was right: dating boys without commitment was my specialty, partly because I had a comeback of some sort - you don’t really forget certain adventures. Yet Harvey was not touching any of these strings. He had not been a one-night stand; I had not flirted with him for fun. He had been my first love. The one I still somehow carried in my heart, though in a different and more mature way. The feeling was long gone, but I wouldn’t have minded spending an afternoon with him over a cup of coffee.

I crossed the street and moved toward the arena, when once again the tiny voice of conscience made its way into my mind, and I quickly shushed it. That encounter had shaken me, yes, but I was no longer eighteen, and I certainly didn’t need my conscience to lecture me. And as I tried to shake those thoughts off, I caught sight of Alan standing in front of the arena: he was waiting for me.

6

Unexpected Coincidences

(?Darude - Sandstorm)

Ashton was still out of sight. He was not late - not yet - and yet I had a strange feeling about that evening. The concert was going to start soon, and it would have been better to enter a little earlier, so as not to be overwhelmed by the avalanche of people who had already arrived.

And, by the way, that concert didn’t even interest me. I had agreed to it just to get away from the fixed thought of Oliver, because every time it came back to my mind I felt breathless, my heart began to pound, and I saw myself as part of a world of which I no longer understood the rules; I often found myself alone, looking vacantly, wondering where my existence was going, what meaning it had. For a person lives as long as they have a purpose, as long as there is something that can make their life better; but when reality takes over, and fogs you up, and blurs your vision, so that everything seems like a routine of which you no longer grasp the meaning, it is not so easy to find the courage to take another breath.

If it hadn’t been for Ashton, I was sure I wouldn’t have been standing there in the crowd; and if I was standing there, it was only because, deep down, a part of me held out hope that sooner or later something would change for the better. Because at certain moments I wished for it, yes; but the breathlessness, the guilt, the picture of Oliver on the bedside table before going to sleep sped up my pulse so much that I thought and wished I would die at any moment.

However, that night intrusive thoughts seemed not to be at home. I swayed my head again to locate Ashton, but no sign of him. I ran a hand over my neck, trying to loosen my muscles a little.

“I can’t believe it, you’re really there!”

What presented itself before my eyes curbed my already meager enthusiasm; for in front of me was not Ashton, who was late, but Nathan, that sort of teenager in the body of a young adult and with an underdeveloped brain.

Was I too cruel?

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