Page 26 of Two Marlboros

“I’m only here because you have the tickets.”

“And I’m not leaving just because Ashton spent money on them.”

A moment of silence followed. I looked up a little to see where the line was, but the glare of a spotlight hit me right in the face, forcing me back to my seat.

“You didn’t have to yell like that,” he retorted, and crossed his arms. “You’re such an asshole.”

“You’re so rude, you know?”

“And you’re a pain in the ass.”

I kept looking straight ahead as I realized out of the corner of my eye that we were in fact almost equal height, just as he had suggested when making his statement. Why did I keep looking at him like that?

“I repeat: rude. I’ve never met anyone who talked like that.”

“No wonder, you’reold.”

I could feel my heart pounding and, in my head, all kinds of insults and invectives began to form. So much for a brawl: at that pace, murder would soon take place. I moved a leg, trying to release the tension. My lips were also trembling.

“However, I am not shocked by the word ‘sex.’ And I’ve certainly done more of that than you.”

It was highly unlikely, but who cared? There was no one to testify otherwise.

“Look, withold menlike you, it doesn’t count.”

There was, inside me, a fire that was making me burn more and more. To go or to stay? Was I to be indifferent? Polite? Calm? Shut him up once and for all?

Sex. How long had it been since I thought about it? Oliver’s touch, his warm body. A spasm in my heart choked me, like a hand had grabbed it and was squeezing it with all the strength it could have.

“I bet your serious relationships didn’t even last a year,” I retorted. “With that tongue of yours.”

“At least I know how to use it.”

As if to confirm his words, he ran his tongue over his lips.

“To lick ice cream?”

He hesitated for a moment before answering. It was a matter of a second. One more second and I would have won. One more measly second...

“Guys, please!” We both turned around. A young mother was holding her son by the hand. “I have a baby!”

The little one shifted his gaze from me to Nathan, from Nathan to me. Likely he had not caught a single word of what we had said. Perhaps the word “ice cream” had attracted him. I apologized with a nod. Nathan almost ignored it.

I blew. But did that concert really interest me? What was I doing standing there in line? Why did I have to torture myself completely and voluntarily by forcing myself to be in Nathan’s company? To hell with it!

“You know what?”, I said, then raked my hand in my back pocket, looking for the tickets. “You keep them. I’m going.”

He didn’t even wait for me to hand them to him.

“No,I’m leaving. Bye.”

I turned toward him and had to follow him with my eyes to realize that he was really gone. I stood interjected for a few moments, one foot pressing to follow him and the other firmly on the ground.

Had I been childish? Stupid? Was there really a need to do this?

I sprinted toward him, but in no time, he had already made his way through the crowd, as with small steps he tried to get out of line. Should I have gone after him or not? Had I made a mess of things? I didn’t have the time to think about it long: in a split second I found myself running after him, trying not to lose sight of him.

“Nathan! Nathan!”

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