Chapter 3-1
992 Words
Chapter 3
The weekend went by fast. Patrick and I did f**k, yes, but then he dropped the bomb. He’s moving to Europe for work. Oh well. Who knows why, but I feel a kind of relief.
Our relationship has been over for a long time, and there isn’t much left to cry about. And maybe it’s realizing this that makes me feel like s**t for a whole week after he leaves. It’s unfortunate to realize you don’t have anything to care about.
It’s Friday, and during a break when nobody seems to need me, I go on the internet and start surfing without a precise goal.
I check my email and then, I don’t know how, I find myself thinking about Sean. I haven’t seen him all week long. Obviously he isn’t going to borrow a book a week; he has a job keeping him busy and it’s only logical he didn’t show up.
I think again about his tattoo parlor, so I type his name into Google, trying to find out if he has a website. And there he is, Stan. Stan? Oh, sure. Stuart and Sean. Are they also partners? They look so different.
I shake my head to dispel that thought and start looking at images of their work, speechless. Some are true masterpieces.
“Can I?”
A cavernous voice startles me and I turn, finding myself looking at the other half of the Sean and Stuart duo. Speak of the devil. “Sorry,” I answer, feeling a little intimidated in front of the human mountain who’s giving me a puzzled frown.
“This,” he mutters, pushing the book across the desk.
I look at the book and can’t avoid raising my eyebrows.
“Bag of Bones? Another King fan.”
“It’s not for me,” the brute answers rudely, looking around like he’s embarrassed to be here.
Welcome to my world.
“Oh, is it for Sean?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“Yes, it’s for him. He doesn’t have the time to come. But he wanted something to read. Asked me to get it for him.”
Stuart speaks in short, clipped sentences. There’s no inflection and he spits the words out quickly. “I see.” I nod, even if it isn’t true. I enter the data into the program and push the book toward Stuart. “Here it is.”
“Thanks,” the giant groans, leaving.
“Say hi to Sean for me,” escapes my lips, again before I can think to stop it.
Stuart turns to look at me and shakes his head. Did I say something wrong?
That evening when I leave the library, Charlie’s waiting for me. I can’t help but smile when I see her running in my direction, dangerously wavering on her heels. She’s carrying a lot of bags and wearing a bright smile. Frank is going to cry when he gets the next credit card statement.
“Did you rob a bank?” I ask her, laughing, as I help her off the ground after she falls into my arms.
“I would never do that. I’m a lady, I am!” she answers, giving me a nudge in the stomach.
At the jab, I bend over, clutching my stomach. “I see that. You look good.” I can’t help but smile.
“I’d like to punch you! That’s the kind of thing you say after not seeing somebody for a long time. If you feel like saying it, it’s because we haven’t met up in too long. And you know it’s all your fault!”
“Were you like this when we were together?”
“No, I was normal back then. It was the trauma of being with you that transformed me.”
I can’t help but laugh. When my smile fades, I see Charlie staring at me.
“What?” I ask, afraid I shocked her with some ugly comment.
“Why are you gay?” She sighs, tilting her head to the side.
I blink. “Well, I think that…there’s no answer…I mean, why are you asking? You’ve known this since forever!”
“It was a rhetorical question, fool!” Charlie shakes her head. “You’re so good-looking…it’s unfair.”
Honestly, I don’t know if I’m more shocked by Charlie’s words or by the fact that she, after so many years, still tells me such things.
“I’m not good-looking,” I reply fast. “Never have been. And anyway, now I’m even worse.”
“I’d like to throw these bags at you one after another, I swear. You’ve always been good-looking! I’m sorry but I don’t like ugly guys. I’ve never liked them. And what are you saying about now? That your scar spoiled you so bad, it transformed you into a monster? Well, you’re totally wrong, my dear!” Charlie scolds. I’ve always loved this side of her because everything she tells me, no matter how severe, always comes from the heart.
But I pretend to be upset and tell her, “You don’t have a heart.”
“I can tell you, it’s there. Trust me. It’s hidden under two amazing boobs. Sadly, you’re not interested in them.”
I chuckle and sharpen my gaze. “Are you flirting with a gay man?”
“I’m flirting with my ex, pretending he isn’t gay.”
“I have to have a chat with Frank. I pity your husband,” I murmur, taking her bags for her.
“You’ll be able to do it tonight. I just came by to let you know.”
I look at her, surprised. “It isn’t your birthday, or his…I think.”
“Don’t try to remember, honey. You’ve never remembered my birthday, not even when we were a couple.”
“Because we weren’t together for long!”
“We’ve known each other a lifetime, you ungrateful jackass!”
I laugh again. Charlie does the same and pushes a lock of stubborn hair away from her eyes. She’s always been very nice, but age has given her a sort of charm. Her blonde, wavy hair dances around her head, always scattered, wild. I remember when I was a teenager I liked caressing it, feeling the waves bouncing into place after my fingers had smoothed back her locks. Her dark eyes contrast with her pale skin, and that was what impressed me the most when I met her the first time.
“Given that you’re such an unworthy friend, could you finally tell me why you want me to see Frank tonight?”
“Not only Frank. Both of us. Tonight we’re going out, end of story.”
“Just like that. You just suddenly decided this?”
“Obviously. What’s life for if not constant and sudden surprises?”
“Are you drunk, Charlie?”
“No, but I’d like to drink tonight,” she answers, winking at me.
“And what if I’m busy?”
Charlie crosses her arms and stares at me for a long time, silent.
“What?” I ask her. Charlene always has the power to make me wonder if I’ve done something wrong.
“I’m just wondering if I should laugh at your joke. You, busy?”
- Writer
