Page 27 of Two Marlboros

He barely turned around, only to look back in front of him as soon as he realized it was me. After a few seconds I stepped out of line, as I searched for the right words to say.

Say what? Was I sorry? Did I want to apologize? Or just clear my conscience?

He walked briskly but did not run; in about ten strides I was by him.

“Nathan! Wait.”

I grabbed him by the arm, but it was not necessary to make him turn around; he did, with an annoyed sigh. I tried to say something, but he beat me to it.

“Do you want to have a pissing contest?”

Why did he always have to be so direct?

“Actually, I...”

He smiled bitterly. He kept shaking his head.

“Look, it was all a mistake. I don’t like fighting, and it’s obvious to me that we can’t get together without insulting each other,” he spat, all in one breath. “Let it go. I’m going home. It was a dumb idea.”

Nathan went on his way again, while I walked behind him.

“Wait, come on. I’m sorry.”

He stopped again and shrugged. “Don’t try to make it up to me at all costs. It’s not like we have to get married.”

Now that the anger had faded completely, I realized that I had been very rude. He had been no less, but I had also done my part. I had stooped to a stupid level and acted like one. Way to be a mature 25-year-old, yes.

“Can I at least take you home?”

He bent his head to the side, intent on thinking, then shrugged again.

“If you really want to.”

All the way to the car he didn’t utter a word. He walked a step behind me so that I could not see him. He had such a stealthy walk I often turned back to make sure he was still there.

When we got to the car, I didn’t say anything either. It had been such a disastrous evening that perhaps it was best to keep quiet. I wondered how much was my fault and how much his. As I opened the door, I wondered if I was really a “pain in the ass”, as he had called me. I sat in the driver’s seat with the knowledge that, after all, Ashton’s attempt to look for a boyfriend for me could be defined like that, only he had been nicer. I slipped my cell phone out of my pocket and laid it in the glove compartment; as I turned the key, he did the same, with a different delicacy. I started the car and asked him for his home address; and that was the only thing he said for the whole ride.

When we arrived, I was quite surprised: it was common knowledge that Harlem was not a great neighborhood, but I did not expect him to live in a building that was falling apart. Among other things, there was an unbearable stench of fried food coming from the garbage, which almost made the smell of smoke pleasant to me. He must have been in financial trouble to live in an apartment like that. Didn’t he have family to help him?

“We’re here,” I said.

He quickly raised his eyebrows, to emphasize the obviousness of my statement. That was by no means a silence I could break without eliciting embarrassment.

“Thanks for the ride.”

He didn’t even look at me: he grabbed the phone, opened the door, and pulled out his house keys, only to be swallowed up by that decaying building.

7

Angels

(?Robbie Williams - Better man)

I clapped my hands at myself.

Congratulations, Nathan.

I had flushed it all down the toilet. Hadn’t I said I should have warmed his cool with some flattery? How had I come to shower him with terrible words like that? I had behaved childishly and had shown the worst of me.

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