Page 45 of Two Marlboros

“No way.”

“What?”

He burst out laughing, but lowered his gaze. “From you I never expected it.”

“What?”

He returned his gaze to me, busy holding back a smile.

“You pretend it’s nothing, too? What a guy.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Look, I’ve seen you, you know.”

“Could you be more clear?”

He ignored me and kept walking, two steps ahead of me.

“Nathan? I hate it when you don’t answer me.”

In the distance, I began to hear the muffled sound of drums and the indistinct chatter of a multitude of voices. Step by step, the sound of music became clearer and more disruptive, and the voices acquired faces.

The dormitory building was surrounded by a wide lawn, so wide that it was impossible to observe it all at a glance. Only by turning your head you could see the tables with drinks stormed by the boys and the DJ station.

I was stunned and speechless by the vitality that the place exuded. Nothing like my quiet evenings in Oliver’s company, evenings where we would watch a movie, his picture and me.

Evenings where I would ask him if he liked it and answer myself.

Evenings where I would say good night to him, but it long time had passed since he closed his eyes.

Evenings where I would hug the damp pillow and brush my fingers over the gun I kept hidden.

“Shall we have a drink?”

Once there had been Oliver, in the flesh, and the house had not been so cold and so quiet that I could hear my own footsteps on the floor, hard as the armor that had taken root on my skin.

“Alan? Are you alright?”

But under that armor I could feel the warmth of Nathan’s hand on my wrist, the warmth of his sincere apprehension, a warmth that dampened the chill I felt inside, despite the scorching heat.

“Yes, don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

I hinted a smile. “Yes, I am.”

“Then let’s go!”

He pulled my wrist toward him and dragged me to the drinks table. After a few steps, however, he let go in a quick gesture, then waved his hand toward a group of people. They waved back at him and I could tell they were his friends, who greeted him with a few friendly pats on the back. Among them was a girl, whom I discovered was named Laura.

The guy on Nathan’s left had a nice speaking voice, although he was perhaps talking a little too much like a robot. He hadn’t caught his breath since even before we arrived, and even then he was spitting out words like bullets, so much so that I wondered if Nathan was just nodding out of politeness. The other boy who was with him, on the other hand, stood with his arms folded and couldn’t take his eyes off him. He was giving him a real X-ray, and the lower he got, the wider the mischievous smirk on his face became.

“Oh, yes! This is Alan.”

The quieter boy introduced himself as Steve, and it didn’t take me too long to reconnect him with the famousShittySteve; I quickly understood why he had looked at him like that and that, in the end, he believed me to be Nathan’s boyfriend.

The other, however, was named Ryan. He squeezed my hand limply, as if he couldn’t muster the strength in his arm, on which I glimpsed a large bruise. Eventually I let go of his hand and he started talking again, but I didn’t understand much else, becauseI was too stunned to keep up with that endless torrent of talk. To the boy’s messy words, moreover, I had to add the music, which had nothing to do with Enya.

---