Читать книгу The Lonely Hearts Bar - Конни Гранма - Страница 3

«Well… home sweet home!» My bags fell to the floor with a thump.

Before the start of the academic year, I had to do everything on my Murican to-do list: watch «Friends» in pajamas on the couch, order Papa John’s at 1am, run around the apartment screaming like Kevin in «Home Alone»…

At night I turned everything off, went out on the balcony and sat in a rocking chair, soaking in the nighttime view of Los Angeles and joined occasionally by my glass of lemon water. And then I watched a light purple chiffon scarf float in the air, as if dancing to the whispering wind. What does this incredible calm in my heart mean?

My first academic day in Los Angeles. Morning. I had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the TV with a towel on my head. Then my alarm went off. I blow-dry my hair and quickly pull on a big T-shirt and shorts. A couple sips of coffee. I pull on my Nikes with their clashing laces. Off I go!

I slid into the parking space and looked up at the main building of the university. How would my life change after I take the next step? What sort of dialogues or monologues will echo among the walls of a university I haven’t yet been to? Taking a deep breath, I got out of the car and slung my backpack over my shoulder. I didn’t even glance at anyone as I ran to the classroom, which I still had to find.

There it is! Inside, there were a couple desks arranged in a semicircle. I sat down next to Alex and William.

Ten minutes later, all seats were occupied. A tall, slender man with backswept, graying hair entered the classroom. It was trimmed at the sides, and his eyes were framed by rectangular, black-rimmed glasses. He was wearing a black T-shirt, slightly worn dark gray jeans, and purple converse.

«Hi guys! I’m Brendon Bern. My students tend to shorten that to BB,» he wrote two capitalized Bs on the board, «and that’s okay. I’m going to lead your group for the first two classes: «Film Directing» and «Cinematic Storytelling,» plus a class on screenwriting and, as I call it, ‘Write your own story’.»

Classes went on until evening. There were two breaks, during which the students got to know the cafeteria.

«Not many people become real directors: that comes from the depths of the human soul and subconscious. This field of work is crazy: lengthy, meticulous and extremely difficult. If you have even the smallest doubt in your abilities, the door’s open, and I’d advise you to leave this building immediately and avoid it in the future. You see, you have to envision beforehand how everything’s going to look,» he paused and studied each face, «you have to work with the screenplay, create a clear plan, but nonetheless always be ready for improvisation during takes and criticism afterwards. The set is your home, your world, your universe, where only those who’ll help you put your thoughts onscreen can enter.»

Mr. BB did everything so that we’d feel, from the very first day, that we’d entered another world: the world of the film industry. He gave a persuasive lecture on how important it was for directors to have acting experience, and made it clear that this would be the basis of his lessons: «The director is in front of the camera, just like the actor. Not behind it.»

«I don’t follow the rules or the schedule by the door: I constantly improvise. That’s why you’ll have a hard time guessing beforehand what our next topic is.»

This was followed by my first performance on a small stage, when, instead of homework, Mr. BB thought up a «tricky» improv for the topic of «mise-en-scène.» We had to stage a small scene from any film and play the main roles in front of graduate students. They now looked appraisingly at my co-star Alex and me.

God, my hands are shaking like crazy! Yet I feel strangely euphoric inside. I proposed a scene from «Pulp Fiction.» Pretty sure you know which one.

So, the girl dressed up as Marilyn holds the prize, and the announcer asks Mia to introduce herself. Everything’s just like that shot from the Tarantino film, even Mia Wallace’s gold shoes. Only her toenail polish slipped my mind. I’m playing Uma Thurman; Alex is John Travolta’s Vincent Vega. And here it comes, Chuck Berry’s song «You can never tell.» The main thing here, of course, is the twist.

It was worth it! I was waiting for the moment when we’d get a standing ovation from the whole room, even if it wasn’t all that big. For some reason I was really surprised by it. Winning at life level: 51 percent! It’s an incredible feeling. Just like that light, dizzy sensation when you take your wig off at the end of the show…

There were twelve people in my group, and everyone turned out to be really friendly. They each had their thing. For example, Alex was amazing at getting into character. He’d probably be better off studying performing arts rather than filmmaking. He was always blowing on his long bangs when he was stressed; it was like his trademark. Rosie was a whiz at thinking up ideas for commercials, but when it came to movies her face fell, probably at the thought that she was on the wrong career path and would end up failing. I often noticed her sighs of annoyance when Mr. BB questioned her. Anna Maria was simply very inquisitive. I can’t say I saw any great talent in her, or even effort to learn about the film industry. TJ was a mystery to me. I felt that for him, these courses were a chance to prove something to himself. His gaze was far away in another world, even during the lessons. He always walked around with a little video camera and jotted down notes on pieces of paper or napkins in the cafeteria. Strangely, I didn’t consider for a minute what they thought about me. I was much more interested in someone else’s opinion…

The air in Los Angeles is full of hope and peace of mind. «What is it here that always attracted me?» I thought, lying on the lawn. I lowered my book and listened to the whisper of the leaves. It felt like they were alive and that a heart was beating inside the tree, giving life to every leaf. That’s what my mom taught me.

«I was lying right there in that exact same position,» came a familiar voice.

I lowered my shades.

«With a J. D. Salinger book?»

«Nope. Haven’t read about that dude in the red hunting hat.» David smiled. «Didn’t expect to see you here.»

«Same.»

Neither of us seemed to know what to say next.

«What are you, uh, doing here?»

«Studying.»

«Studying what?»

«Filmmaking and screenwriting. I came here to attend classes.»

«Got it.»

«You?»

«I’m mostly working here. I help students shoot music videos, stuff like that, but definitely not for free.» He laughed.

«Nice way to earn some cash.»

«I can knock 200 bucks off the price for you.»

David smiled pleasantly. He looked a lot better.

«When did you leave?»

«Several days after you did.»

«I see.» I looked at my watch.

«Gotta run?»

«Yep.»

«Let’s hang out sometime. What about after class?»

«We’ll see.»

He smiled mysteriously – was it disappointment? I couldn’t tell – gave a wave and headed unhurriedly in the opposite direction. He walked with perfect calm, as if he was studying every grain of sand, pebble, leaf… It was beautiful to watch… David had a very kind face. I abruptly regretted that I’d answered him so rudely.

After class I went to Starbucks and got a cappuccino. It was already getting dark. On the way to my car, David appeared out of nowhere, suddenly reminding me that he’d wanted to hang out.

«Hey.»

«Oh, hi!»

«You already going home?»

«Yeah, guess so.»

«Aww, I was hoping to get something to drink. Wanna come along? You could finish your cappuccino.»

«Do you really think you should be drinking?»

«Well, I’ve never OD-ed on ice water.»

«M-hm.»

«There’s a bar near here. It’s not that bad. Oh and I’m not a serial killer. Though after what happened in the bar, I don’t blame you for avoiding me.» He smirked. «You know, I’m pretty sure I’m being a little weird. But I just want to say sorry for our first meeting. I was in a dark place.»

«Say sorry?»

«Yeah. I was a real ass and, to make up for it, I’ll buy you an ice water.»

«Is it far?»

«Not at all. Leave your car here and we’ll walk.»

As it turned out, there really was a great bar nearby that, apart from spirits, also offered «fancy» drinks, like ice water. Shame the barman wasn’t Nick.

«I don’t know anything about you,» said David, «tell me something – anything – about yourself.»

«Well, I came here as soon as I found out I’d been accepted.»

«Run away from home?»

«Run away? I came here to study.»

David smiled, munching on cashew nuts from a little vase in the middle of the round table:

«So this isn’t a fresh start?»

«Nope. It’s just a big dream of mine.»

«And where were you before your longtime dream?»

«New York.»

«Wait. You came by car?»

«Yep.»

«You traveled three thousand miles?»

«And around 40 hours.»

«Couldn’t afford a plane ticket?»

«It wasn’t about money. I just wanted something…»

«What?»

«Well… adventurous and… to be on my own.»

«Did you have a lotta adventures out there on your own?»

«Nothing like that bar.»

«If you’re talking about me, then you really lucked out on your adventures.»

«And what’s your story?»

«Mine, funny enough, isn’t that great.» He sighed heavily. «I’m from Boston.»

«Mkay. That’s just about the scariest story I’ve ever heard.»

«Ha! Basically, I’m from a big family with a lot of kids.»

From that moment, I listened more attentively, mentally turning over the completely different one I’d heard from Nick.

«I came here to make money for my family… which I actually don’t have. Sorry, that was a lie. Sometimes I need some time to man up,» he straightened his shirtsleeve, musing about something. «I’m actually from a residential treatment center. – Like an orphanage,» he explained at my confused look, «my mother left me when I was seven years old, on my birthday. Then, when I was 16, I ran away from my foster family with a friend. We found a small, abandoned house, and then renovated it using money we’d stolen wherever we could find it. Basically, we lived there happily ever after. Then, we had a fight and I left the city, and finally ended up in that bar. After about a year I found out he was looking for me, and I went back.»

I waited for him to continue, but he suddenly laughed:

«I’m telling my life story to someone whose name I don’t even know. Looks like I’m legit going crazy. Sorry about that.»

«Connie. My name’s Connie.»

«You serious?» The smile disappeared from his face.

«What?»

«You’re not leaving?»

«Sorry, what?»

«I told you the truth, didn’t I?»

«I don’t get it. Do you want me to go?»

«No no no!» Another smile spread across his face, and he looked ready to give me a hug. «I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to say that. Just that every time I tell someone about my life, they immediately disappear.»

«How old are you?» I asked, sipping my cappuccino.

«Twenty-five, I think. Birthday wasn’t too long ago. You?»

«Sixty-five,» I said and smiled.

I was taken aback. No, not at David’s behavior, but at the abrupt twinge I felt once again in my heart. As if I’d always known the person sitting across from me at that moment.

«Dave! Man, you shitbag! Hitting the booze again are we?» exclaimed a short Asian guy who’d just walked into the bar.

He grabbed a glass of coke from the table and, after taking a small sip, turned to me:

«Señorita, be straight with me, how much has he already had?»

«Two glasses of coca-cola.»

«Lee, here’s the lady I met in that bar: Connie!» David gestured to me.

«Good gracious, I do apologize, I’m terribly ill-mannered. When you live a couple years with this monster, you tend to forget about etiquette. And here I was thinking that you were one of his…» At that moment, David splashed coke in Lee’s face. He shook my hand as if there weren’t drops falling from his pointed nose, and introduced himself: «very nice to meet you, the name’s Lee.»

«He actually goes by ‘Jackie Chan’,» David blurted out.

«Very nice to meet you too, Connie.»

Lee grabbed a couple napkins from the table and mopped his face:

«Sorry, but how long have you been here for?»

«’Bout 30 minutes,» replied David.

Lee’s eyes bulged:

«And you’ve putting up with this mofo for that long?»

I laughed and David shook his head, irritated:

«Order something already, moron! No worries, there’ll be time to talk about your feelings for me later.»

«I’ll have a martini, please, and my rodent friend here would like another coke,» said Lee and sat down next to me.

«And you’re telling me not to drink?»

«People don’t get drunk off martinis, stupid.»

«You could get messed up on milk!»

«I’m lactose-intolerant! So, where are you from?» continued Lee.

«I can tell you her biography when we get home.»

«You’re being a jerk.»

David smiled, satisfied, and winked at me.

«Watch out, you might exhaust your entire vocabulary. You only know ten words anyway,» Lee remarked.

«Really? Can you be a little more specific?»

«Egotistical, foul, gross, fucktard, son-of-a-bitch, moron, jerk, crap, ass, and turd…»

«That’s thirteen words.»

«’Son-of-a-bitch’ is a collocation.»

«Douchebag. That’s 11.» I smiled.

«What?» Lee asked.

«He also says ‘douchebag’.»

Lee stared, surprised, at an extremely self-satisfied David.

«Where do you study, by the way? David, if you open your cake hole one more time!»

«At film school. She came here to take classes,» calmly answered David for me and took a gulp of Lee’s martini. He responded by «accidentally» tipping over David’s glass of coke, which spilled onto his shirt.

«Film school? You don’t say,» he continued nonchalantly to me.

«Asshole,» whispered David, reaching for a napkin.

«Twelve!» Lee and I exclaimed in unison, and all three of us burst out laughing.

Only I was dry when we left the bar. David and Lee sighed deeply, examining their stained clothes.

«Connie, why don’t you come over? Our place is where it’s at: we watch movies… eat popcorn… beat each other up…»

«Definitely… some other time. Thanks for the night out though! Need a lift?»

«Nah, we’ll just toddle on back. Got some things to do,» said David.

«It was nice to meet you,» Lee gallantly kissed my hand.

«Man, you’re so full of shit!» David gave his head a shove.

«Stop being a dick!» hissed Lee, shoving him back.

David turned to me one last time:

«Nice running into you again. See you tomorrow.»

«Bye.»

They waved and walked in the other direction. Turning around, I watched as they kept kicking each other along the way until they finally began chasing each other. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

I returned to my car and drove home. It was so quiet… only the rumble of the old engine.

A hot shower, a soft robe… I settle comfortably onto the couch and pull my book, Master Class for Directors, Screenwriters, and Novelists, out of my backpack. Skimming through the first three pages, I set the book aside and get back to the screenplay I’d started, my fingers flying over the keyboard. I didn’t even notice as the page number in the margin went from three to forty. It’s already 5am. And the sound of my alarm is just as annoying.

A breeze rose from the balcony. Early morning in Los Angeles. There’s nothing like it! Here the sun is only just stirring, but somewhere faraway the moon has already risen in its stead. It’s all rather like a giant traffic light: it goes red – the cars sleep, it goes green – we go, racing anywhere to avoid the next red light.

Red. I finished my strong coffee and looked out the car window. A small boy with three red balloons stood by the light. This kid was so happy even though he was standing by himself, at a great distance from his chaperone, who was talking on the phone and searching her purse for something. He was happy, truly happy. I could tell by his look, which was full of desire to get to know the world. He stuck in my mind, especially his hair, as if he were Melozzo da Forlì’s «Angel Playing the Violin.» I’d never seen such a beautiful child: masses of blond curls, freckles on his little snub nose, scarlet lips, and sky-blue eyes. Suddenly the tiny cupid gazed right at me and waved. I smiled and gave him the peace sign, and then the light went green.

Now Oasis’s «Whatever» was playing in my car. If you’d only seen me! I sang at the top of my voice, and stuck my tongue out at the elderly couple in the next car over. I was in my all-too-rare NSG mode, No Shits Given, and the weather was stunning.

Today was director training day… according to the schedule. But Mr. BB got onto the topic of script format. He was interested in the topic because he wanted to get to know us, given that we were still just another bunch of students at our desks. We discussed everything from scripts for ads of chocolate bars with raisins to my own screenplay for a drama.

«Drama?» Mr. BB looked surprised and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

«Yes, drama,» I said, and gripped my notebook hesitantly.

«What’s the subject?»

«Life.»

«Life?»

«Yes.»

«And what’s life?»

«What happens to us every second of every day.»

«Do you mean today, or a day that’s passed?»

«Today or yesterday?»

«Exactly.»

«The past, present and future exist simultaneously,» I stated, and a smile appeared on Mr. BB’s face.

«And what led you to that conclusion, Mr. Hawking?»

«The so-called past is far too influential on the present, which the future depends on,» I locked eyes with Mr. BB without a trace of a smile. «If I hadn’t talked about drama in the last couple minutes, our conversation would never have touched upon Einstein’s theory.»

«Wow!» he exclaimed, and his smile didn’t falter for quite some time.

I was happy with class that day, as I was able to impress Mr. BB himself. It was only when I was getting into my car that I realized I hadn’t seen David or Lee today. Something felt wrong after the heart-to-heart with David yesterday.

There wasn’t a car to be seen. The clock read 8:29 pm. Pulling myself together, I headed for the bar.

All the tables were empty except one. That exact same table was occupied by David, a bottle of whiskey, and a glass of ice – pretty much the perfect alcohol ad.

«Excuse me sir, you wouldn’t have seen David Ogden by any chance?» I asked, flashing a smile.

David woke up from his reverie and slowly lifted his empty gaze.

«Damn it’s good to see you!»

«What happened?»

It was hard to believe, but tears streaked down his cheeks. He covered his face with his hands:

«Goddammit… this sucks!»

«David, what happened?»

«I feel like shit.» He lowered his hands and chuckled, then pressed the glass of ice to his forehead. «I wish my fucking head with all these memories would just get run over by a sixteen-wheeler.»

«Not exactly the best way to deal with your thoughts.»

«I know, I get it. Don’t want to lose the old noggin either.»

He gazed at me and then looked away.

«Sorry Connie.»

«For what?»

«For all this. For… for everything!»

«What’s so terrible that you want to forget?»

«My childhood… My whole body is covered in, like, scars. They hurt like a bitch as soon as I remember something. All that violence and loneliness… all those attempts to protect my mother from her man friends and the names the neighbors called her. These friends of hers… the last one actually forced her to get rid of me. Well, at least I think she wouldn’t have done it by choice.» He looked at me. «Right?»

«You shouldn’t look for excuses. It won’t help you deal with the past. And it might even hurt you in the future.»

«You’re right. She left me on my birthday, like I told you. She… she said that we were going on a picnic, that there’d be rides and stuff. I, little moron that I was, obviously believed her. Basically, she got there and filled out some forms, some other stuff… and then just left. I ran after her, begging her not to leave me. And that was it. She threw my toy superman out the window of her car. I’d made him out of gum wrappers, and I buried him that day in the yard at the center.»

David poured himself more whiskey, barely holding the bottle in his hands, and took a couple sips.

«I lived in fear, scared of everything. She left in the morning and came home drunk, every time with some new knight in shining armor, I mean… one more psycho who’d give her a shiner a couple days after they’d met. Sometimes they used me to make money, selling mary jane or blow… But I don’t blame her. I think she was afraid of them, her man friends, that’s why she didn’t say anything. She was afraid they might kill us both.»

He finished off his whiskey and gestured to the waiter for more.

«It won’t help,» I said.

«Pfff,» he waved dismissively, «I don’t give a shit.»

«About what?»

«About stupid fucking money, money, money.»

I laid my hand on his and felt him flinch.

«It’s ok, alright?» I said.

David froze, gazing into my eyes.

«Alright,» he finally replied.

Meanwhile, the waiter brought his whiskey.

«Guess it’s time to stop. Take it away, maestro!» David winked at me and threw his money on the table. «If it wasn’t for you, I’d have kept drinking until I passed out, then sat in the dirt by some trash can until Lee found me.»

We left that place, which, despite its attractive appearance, suddenly felt full of despair. Just like how the Renaissance must have felt.

«Connie, I’m gonna walk,» said David.

«No way! I can’t leave you in that state. I’ll drop you off.»

«I’m as sober as a judge!»

«Yes, your honor, but I’m still driving you home. You wouldn’t even make it halfway!»

David followed me to the car and slipped. I slowly turned and sighed deeply when I saw him lying in the trash from an overturned bin.

«Well this got interesting fast…» I breathed.

For about five minutes, I tried to hoist him up, tugging at his arms. Finally, I succeeded. Propping him up, I slowly made my way to the car.

«Sorry Connie,» he mumbled.

«David?»

«Hm?»

«You alright?»

«You have no idea how good I feel!»

Despite my less-than-stellar mood, David’s muttering made me smile. It was like I was back at my old job, saving people’s lives. Except just when I got to the car, there was yet another problem: how was I going to open the door without dropping David?

«David, can you try to stand up?»

«M-hm.»

«You sure?»

«M-hm.»

«Actually, no. Try opening the door.»

He reached out for the door handle, and even had the strength to open the door.

«Fantastic,» I said, and carefully got him into the car.

Problem Number Two: where does he live? I started the car, opened the window and splashed water on his face.

«David?»

«Mmm?»

«Where do you live?»

«In a small room.»

«What’s your address?»

«Just go straight, then turn, then left at the light, then straight until the big flashing store, then left again, then along the shore, all the way to the end, until you hit the boardwalk. There’s a small alley there… it’s not pretty.»

«A small alley. Not pretty,» I repeated, and tried to get my bearings.

Anyway, after a half an hour I located that small alley, which genuinely wasn’t pretty. By then, David had somehow managed to sober up almost completely. He stared out the window, thinking about something.

«There it is.» He pointed to a rusty staircase.

«Wow, you live on Elm Street.»

«Worse. Here, they don’t wait till you’re asleep to kill you.»

«Jesus…»

«I’m joking!» He laughed, then groaned.

«Are you ok?»

«Yep. All good. I… I dunno how to say sorry.»

«Just get out of here before I smack you.»

«Thanks for not smacking me.»

«Any time.»

And now it was back again, home, to an empty apartment. Just me, stillness and solitude. There was something else there, something as cold as the water from my shower.

I sat down on the windowsill and decided to read a couple pages of my favorite book, The Catcher in the Rye, before going to sleep. Holden, I completely get you…

My alarm went off at 6:17am. Breakfast, as usual, consisted of Starbucks to-go and a croissant, after which I ran by the laundromat and picked up the coat I’d spilled maple syrup all over a couple days earlier. I also decided to pay an old friend a visit, even though we’d never met in person before. We’d gotten in touch on the website of a bookstore where he worked. I’d frequently ordered books in order to prepare for my courses. As it so happened, I’d been driving right by his store every morning but only noticed it today.

A tall young man with dark hair was arranging books on a shelf. He was wearing a white T-shirt, knee-length skin-color linen shorts and gray converse.

«Hi Larry.»

He turned around and looked at me.

«Hi! Um…» he looked closer and gaped. «No way! Connie?»

«Duuuuude!» I punched him on the shoulder.

«Oh my God, are you serious? Feels like I’m dreaming or something!» He laughed and hugged me, then stepped back to get a better look.

«Can’t believe you recognized me.»

«It’d be impossible not to!»

«It’s so good to see you, like, in real life!»

«Yeah, me too! Crazy, isn’t it? How in the world did you get to the city of lost angels?»

«I told you I wanted to take classes here, remember?»

«Of course! You were ordering books, right?»

«Exactly.»

«You’re never online anymore.»

«Are these all new?» I glanced at the boxes, distracted.

«Couple books from the philosophy section, and a few more from psychology. New novels, and I think I saw some crime novels somewhere, but you’re not a fan.»

«And what’s the most popular one?» I began running my fingers along the dusty bookshelves, smelling the sharp scent of aging pages.

«This one.» Larry handed me a book from the psychology section.

«Read it?»

«Yep. Total crap.»

«Since when are people so obsessed with finding themselves?»

«Since not too long ago.»

«Isn’t half the planet’s population already in therapy anyway?»

His pleasant laugh lit up everything around him. Handsome, polite, intelligent, inquisitive to the point of knowing everything about everything, tactful and just a decent friend. I’d always thought that chatting on social networks could never be all that sincere, that it was just a big waste of time. But Larry was an exception: he was himself.

«Wait a sec.»

He ran to a different room and pulled something red out of an iron box. He came back and kept his hands behind his back.

«Guess what I’ve got.»

«Um…»

«Think.»

«Comics?»

«Cold.»

«A book?»

«Getting warmer. Like a cross between comics and an insane novel.»

«Your red…»

«A hunting hat, just like Caulfield!» he said, handing me the hat.

«It’s the exact same hat in the photo you sent…»

«When I found out what your favorite book was. Keep it.»

«Aww, thanks Larry! I really appreciate it.» I put the hat on backwards and hugged him.

«Oh and there’s something else,» he stood by a shelf.

«These are special books. Close your eyes and take one.

«Uh…» I approached the shelf, closed my eyes and pulled out On the Road, by Jack Kerouac.

«You can have it.»

«Thanks Larry.»

«Glad you’re here. Come by more often.»

«Will do.» I waved and went back to the car.

Today’s classes took place on set. It was hot, but that didn’t stop me from wearing Caulfield’s red hunting hat all day. Mr. BB approved and even tried it on, saying it could be a sign that I was on set wearing an incredible main character’s hat from that classic novel.

«Try to be clear, tell yourself what you need to get out of every scene. And after,» Mr. BB guided me by the arm and sat me behind the camera, «just have a look… and your thoughts will become reality. It all starts… now. Action!»

Through that lens, everything really did look different. Even this empty movie set. Every day I came to realize more clearly how important that life, seen through the lens, was to me. I thought about it on the campus bus on the way back from the set, going over the day’s events.

A guy with a long backpack and sky-blue eyes sat down next to me as I untangled my ear buds. He glanced at me from under his gray hood, which was thrown over a black beanie, partially hiding his facial features.

«Sorry, do you mind if I sit here?» he asked.

«You already did.»

«Uh… yeah,» he muttered, embarrassed.

And that was the end of our dialogue. Looks like I wasn’t the only one walking around in a winter hat…

The shuttle took us to the university, and the weird guy and I parted ways. He had beautiful eyes.

«David!» I shouted out the window on the way home, spotting a solitary silhouette.

«Oh, hey Connie!»

«Need a lift?»

«Where you headed?»

«Home. Classes are over already.»

«Yeah, that’d be great!»

«Hop in. Where do you need to be?»

«Crossroads of the World.»

«Ok.»

«How was your day?»

«We went on set. What’s new with you?»

«Same as usual.»

«What’s usual?»

«Job hunting, arguing with that asshole Lee, and…»

«And what?»

«And just… the same, as usual…» David glanced at me and sighed deeply, «I actually wanted to apologize for yesterday. I shouldn’t have unloaded all that on you.»

«You mostly unloaded yourself on me, as I was dragging you to the car,» I laughed.

«Jesus,» David whispered, covering his face with his hands, «Don’t remind me. I’m terrible…»

«Well don’t go fishing for compliments. You won’t be getting any from me.»

«I usually don’t look too good when we see each other. I think today’s a first.»

«Isn’t it all kind of stupid though? Life’s amazing, and yet we spend it lost in our thoughts.»

«What do you wear to bed?»

«What?» Julia Robert’s smile flashed across my face.

«What do you wear to bed? I’m curious.»

«Boxers, a T-shirt, sometimes a hat.»

«Boxers? A hat?»

«Yeah, they’ve got comics on them, and it’s a red hunting hat, like Holden Caulfield’s.»

David’s face split into a winning smile.

«Why do you ask?»

«Just wanted to change the subject.»

«Well, you succeeded.»

Crossroads of the World came into view.

«Could you stop there? I’ll walk the rest of the way.»

«Sure.»

«Thanks so much.»

«See you around!»

On the way back, I stopped by «Caioti Pizza Café.» The chef there had turned pizza into an art form. Your mouth starts watering the second you look at the menu. I ordered something like a New York-style pizza. The main thing, y’all, is more cheese! The first thing I thought after ordering was that I had to bring David and Lee here. They’d love it.

You know the moment when you sit waiting for your order and you remember something? One time on vacation, I stayed in a little cottage and sat for hours by the ocean. Every early morning and late in the evening, cleaners walked along the beach and swept up the mess left by a guest named Seaweed. I remembered one of them extremely well: he wore a white hat, a white T-shirt and shorts, and he had dark and lonely gaze. I was dying to make a face so he’d smile. And he did, just not from my expressions, but from the music in his ear buds, or maybe a memory.

Another memory. One time, sitting on a bench, my gaze fell on a young man in shabby clothes who was filling holes in a wall with cement. I suddenly pictured him as a futuristic builder in space, saving the Universe from an attack of black holes. He stopped for a second, leaned on the wall and began looking at all of the cars parked in that wealthy neighborhood. I mentally wished that one day he’d get a Bugatti Veyron.

Wonder what they’re up to now…

I abruptly snapped out of my thoughts when I smelled my pizza, which the waiter was bringing over. Pizza… it felt like it had been forever since the last one!

I often spent my nights on the balcony, gazing at the lights of Los Angeles. Music played softly.

«I love You. I believe in You. Thank You. Amen.»

On one of those lonely nights, I decided on a whim to go to the grocery story. I glanced at myself in the mirror and convinced myself that pajamas and the tufts of hair sticking out of the bun on my head weren’t all that visible at night. As it turned out, I also forgot to put on shoes: I drove off in blue house slippers.

Now I just had to locate a 24-hour grocery store. Found it. Let’s get: yogurt, muesli, apples, fresh mint, a lemon, my favorite broccoli, tomatoes, sweet potatoes, asparagus, arugula, mozzarella, and salad dressings. And another cheese, my absolute favorite – which is surprising, given that I suffer from trypophobia – mouse cheese. Well, that’s what I call it, because of all the big holes in it.

As it turned out, the idea that not many people would get it into their head to buy groceries at this hour… was false. I walked up to the cash register and froze: in front of me stood five people in nearly identical plaid pajamas. My only distinctive feature was the snazzy blue slippers that kept falling off my feet.

A young man walked up to the cash register. I assumed he was one more weirdo till I realized that he wasn’t wearing pajamas. I could sense him looking at me, so I turned around and, I guess, stared coldly into his unbelievably blue eyes. A good-natured smile spread across his face.

Having paid, I rolled my cart to the car. A beautiful BMW sport bike was parked beside it. The blue-eyed young man came out just after I did.

«Excuse me!»

I looked around.

«You, uh…» his smile wavered only slightly, «didn’t happen to see any keys on a Jack Daniels keychain, did you?»

I was surprised by the question.

«No, I didn’t.» I unlocked the car and quickly tossed the bags inside.

«Alright then. Sorry. Oh and – nice slippers!»

My gaze met the stranger’s:

«Same color as your eyes.»

He laughed charismatically and went back into the store. I got into my car and immediately hit the road. There really was something sketchy about him…

The next day, I swung by college just to get some books from my locker.

«Connie!» Mr. BB called from the entrance.

«Hello, Mr. Bern.»

«Isn’t today your day off?»

«I came by to get my stuff.»

Mr. BB took the first pages of my screenplay from my hands.

«It’s not ready yet,» I said.

He rapidly skimmed the first two pages and gave them back to me.

«Do you think I liked it?» he asked, and smiled. «Think hard and tell me.»

«To be honest, I wasn’t thinking about whether you liked it or not.»

«Hmmm. Can’t quite figure you out, Mystery Woman. What are you looking for in the filmmaking profession?»

«Definitely not disappointment.»

«Well, it’ll come. Without a doubt. Especially when it hits you that many people get Oscars for pure crap, while your screenplay gets torn apart in online forums by trolls whose opinions you don’t give a rat’s ass about. Whose opinion will be more important to you then?»

«People who believe in me.»

«In you, or in your screenplay?»

«Mr. Bern, is there something you don’t like about my screenplay?»

He laughed in an approving, fatherly way and said:

«Don’t ever let yourself doubt your screenplays. They’re a huge part of your heart, and it knows best.»

I sighed deeply: something about our conversation had irritated me. We left the university together. Our cars were the only ones in the parking lot.

«So you’re a fan of classic American cars!» Mr. BB remarked.

«I certainly am.»

«Is it back to Neverland after college?» he asked, spotting a Peter Pan sticker on my car door.

«Most likely the opposite, sir.»

Mr. BB, whistling a tune or two, got into his car and drove away with a wave. I heard my name being called, so I turned and made out David and Lee heading towards me at a fast pace.

«Hey Connie!» they called out simultaneously.

«Hi guys. How are you?»

«Fucking awful, thanks for asking!» David said cheerfully.

«David, could you stop?»

«Are classes already over?» David asked.

«I had the day off.»

«Listen, we were thinking about doing a movie night. Basically, there’s gonna be popcorn and coke. Wanna join?» Lee asked.

«Sounds good. I was thinking of stopping by somewhere for lunch. You down?»

They looked at one another:

«Good plan!» they blurted out in unison.

«She’s adorable. I literally can’t even,» Lee said admiringly, «so where are we headed?»

«You’re a dick,» David observed.

«Just trust me, Lee.»

Well, I’m pretty sure you guessed where I decided to take them: «Caioti Pizza Cafe.» I ordered the same pizza as last time and a refreshing pitcher of lemonade.

«Goddamn. This is unbelievable!» David burst out.

I had a taste of the lemonade and glanced at him: he was clumsily snatching strings of melted cheese with his teeth, having lifted a piece of pizza over his chin, and then looked over and smiled. It was the grin of a teenage boy dying for the weekend, when his parents will let him eat a pizza and drink something sweet and probably terrible for him. It was like watching moments from his childhood play out before my eyes: the good ones abruptly becoming cold and full of pain…

«David, what’s your dream?»

«Like in life?» He wiped his mouth with a napkin. «Hmmm… My dream is to hit my head and get amnesia. That would be ideal. To get a second chance, do everything differently.»

Lee sighed disapprovingly.

«What about you, Lee?»

«To go home.»

«Where’s that?»

«Look at my eyes. Gimme your best guess: where do people eat everything that moves?»

«God Lee. Stop it, would you?» David winced. «What about you, Connie? What do you dream about?»

Lee poured lemonade for everyone.

«Me?» I thought for a moment, «this is gonna sound lame, but I don’t know if I can answer that. Maybe I’m just trying to enjoy the moment.»

David smiled, nodding with comprehension. After that fantastic lunch we went back to their place to watch a movie.

«And here’s our humble abode,» said Lee, pointing at the rusty staircase I’d seen before.

«Soon the grass’ll be growing up the wall,» David remarked.

«Shame it’s not marijuana! At least we could make some money off it.»

They both chuckled. The staircase led to a little house that was so overgrown it was utterly invisible at night. Inside, it turned out to be pretty cozy. There was one room, a tiny bathroom without a bath, a beat-up couch, an armchair and a TV. The walls were covered in illegible childish script. Somehow, that homely mess made me feel good, practically gleeful in a childish way.

«So what movie were you planning on watching?»

«Well, we’ve got movies and cartoons,» David suggested.

«Which ones?» Lee screwed a light bulb into the ceiling.

«Treasure Planet,» replied David.

«That’s my favorite cartoon!» I said excitedly.

«Well, wanna watch that?»

«Why’s it your favorite?» David asked.

«Any more questions, Curious George?» Lee quipped.

«Pretty sure you’re the only curious one in the room.»

«Ha. Ha,» Lee grumbled, as David quickly gathered the trash off the couch.

The guys turned on the movie, threw a bag of popcorn into the microwave, and got out a bottle of coke.

«Could I just have water?» I asked.

«Coming right up. I could even throw in some lemon juice,» said Lee.

«That’d be great.»

David sat down beside me and gave me a look.

«What’s up?»

«The pizza was really good,» he said.

«Here’s your water.» Lee came back.

«Thanks.»

We entered the world of Treasure Planet. Lee and I watched attentively, but David was constantly huffing, getting up, walking from corner to corner, getting distracted and throwing popcorn at Lee. Towards the end, he got out a cigarette but then looked at me and tucked it behind his ear.

I guess that was the night we became best friends.

We spent all our time together: our short breaks on the university lawn, «fancy» drinks like ice water at the bar, evenings watching cartoons and, when things onscreen got hot and steamy, they covered my eyes and threw popcorn at the TV.

Every day was full of new adventures, jokes, and arguments about something or other.

But I still had spells of terrible, overwhelming loneliness. Especially when I arrived at my dark apartment, opened the window and listened to the hum of the city, gazing at the stars. I’d quietly sing a melody to myself that sprung up from somewhere in my mind.

One day, the doorbell rang:

«I didn’t wake you up, did I?»

«No Dave. I wasn’t sleeping.»

«You sure?»

«M-hm.»

Lee’s voice came over the phone:

«Then open the door!»

I ran to the door and slowly opened it. Standing in front of me were my two favorite assholes. They patted my head in turn and came in.

«Wait, where’s the coat rack?» Dave exclaimed.

«I moved it. It’s by the closet,» I replied.

Lee lugged three large bags into the apartment.

«What’s that?»

«We decided to move in with you!» Dave announced.

«Don’t scare her like that,» Lee stopped him. «He’s joking. The bags are full of the grossest stuff we could find at the store.»

«Like what?»

«Take a look.»

They pulled the bags into the kitchen.

«Frozen pizza!» Dave exclaimed.

«Chicken drowning in cheese!» Lee exclaimed.

«Arugula!» I chimed in.

«So, we have a giant box of frozen pizza, which, by the way, will go foul the day after tomorrow.» Dave chuckled.

«Plus a huge bag of chicken drowning in cheese and…» Lee looked at me, «what did you say?»

«Arugula.»

«Arugula?» He asked again and glanced at Dave, «are you joking? A giant bag of arugula?»

«Can someone please explain what these bags are? And where you got them?»

«One of our friends is closing down his store and we ended up with some of his groceries,» Dave explained.

«You chose a bag of arugula. A bag. Of Arugula. You can’t even buy food like a normal person!» Lee huffed and went to the bathroom.

«You moron! I didn’t choose it. They gave me food, so I took it. You should just be thanking me that it wasn’t a jar of hummus!»

«I don’t like hummus either.»

«No one likes hummus.»

«My dad likes hummus.»

Lee returned and sighed deeply, his eyes fixed on the bag of arugula.

«I know some good arugula recipes,» I volunteered.

«You see! And here you are acting like some hysterical little girl!» David said, throwing the bag of arugula at Lee.

«Are you guys hungry?» I asked, shooting David a look.

«Starving, to be honest,» replied Lee.

«I’ll make pasta with arugula and chicken drowning in cheese.»

That’s how we started informal culinary classes in the kitchen. The guys helped me cook, kicking and shoving one another all the while. Nonetheless, everything turned out delicious. It was a fun evening. We fell asleep early in the morning, surrounded by plates of pasta and a mountain of dirty dishes. I didn’t sleep long at all. As soon as I was up, I showered, changed and quietly went out onto the balcony.

«Hi.» Dave appeared at the balcony door.

«Did I wake you up?»

«No no. Hard to sleep, that’s all. Also, it’s really hot in there.»

«We were cooking all night; what do you expect?»

«Don’t even talk about food,» he clutched his stomach and made an exaggerated grimace.

«But you liked it, don’t lie.»

«That’s for sure,» he joined me, propping his elbows on the railing, «what were you thinking about?»

«The view. It’s beautiful.»

«Yeah… Los Angeles. The City of Lost Angels.»

«I could use some rain.»

«I like rain too,» he said, running a hand through his hair.

«Why’d you choose to come here of all places?»

«Did you never have a poster with a view of Los Angeles at night in your room by your bed?»

«Nope. But there was a fridge magnet with ‘Hollywood’ written on it.»

«I had that poster up on my wall for a long time. And I guess one day it felt like a sign. Of course, I had no idea how it got there.»

«Where was this?»

«When I was still in Boston, at my foster parents’ place.»

«Did you live with them for long?»

«Up until I was sixteen. They’re good people! But then, a little while later, the dad suddenly got paranoid about his daughter, I mean, my foster sister. Did I get that right? I’m her foster brother.» He chuckled. «Basically, they changed towards me after that. Things got pretty weird. Anyway, I’m pretty much a walking problem. You know, there’s a lot of stuff in the world that can’t be explained.»

«Like what?»

«Like when a mother leaves her kid, when people decide to inject heroin into their veins knowing that it’s the beginning of the end. When a person has everything: money, fame, looks, a yacht… mmm… and somehow becomes a drug addict. When one person cries and another laughs. When everyone looks for shelter from the rain and one person starts to dance. Lots of things that can’t be explained. Why things are one way and not the other.»

«What about even bigger issues? What’s our planet for, and for whom? Why do those little balls float in space, and what is space? And if the planets are going to fall, where does it all end? What are they going to crash into?»

David furrowed his brow thoughtfully,

«What if we’re just falling, and nothing ever ends?»

«I think it’s better not to ask questions, especially if you’re not sure you’ll ever get an answer to them.»

«Have you ever fallen in love?»

«No. You?»

«I had a thing.»

«A serious thing?

«More like… an encounter. We were two horny teenagers.» He chuckled.

«You still love her.»

«Why do you say that?»

«I can see it in your eyes.»

«Really?» A smile spread across on his face.

«Yep.»

«We were in the same grade. She had a tough relationship with her father; he made fun of her, and I think he went to jail for attempted assault. Basically, we had things in common, liked to get drunk… I was such a moron!»

«But you still love her.» I smiled.

«No I don’t.»

«That wasn’t a question.»

«There’s no arguing with you.» He got out a cigarette and a lighter. «I was a moron who didn’t value much, and destroyed much more.»

Dave glanced at me:

«Okay if I smoke?»

«Sure. What didn’t you value?»

«Life. Look at me.» He looked steadily into my eyes.

«…what?»

«No no! Look at me for real.» He stood in front of me and his arms fell to his sides. «Look closer. What do you see?»

«You mean who?»

«Well, yeah. So who am I?»

I looked closer at the dark circles under his eyes, at the bruises on his cheek and neck, at the scars on his arms and… into those insanely kind but resentful eyes.

«People’s eyes always give them away.»

«So who am I?»

«You-re like a… uh…» I smiled hesitantly, «a little dog, I guess. A little dog who’s been hurt.»

«A dog?» A smile appeared on his face.

«I don’t know, you just reminded me of a dog. They have those exact same eyes: kind but hurt.»

«I’m… a dog.» Dave laughed and puffed his cigarette in the other direction, «Never met anyone like you.»

«And you never will,» I said. «Did you ever think that things would turn out this way?»

«You mean my life?»

«M-hm.»

«I guess there wasn’t ever any time to think. It all happened so fast. And… of course, back then, a minute felt like an eternity. Anyway, none of that matters. The main thing is I’m here right now, and…» he looked at me, «and you’re here too. All those fears are behind me.»

«Stop it.» I smiled and nudged him gently in the side.

Our discussion continued in the kitchen.

«What kind of fears?»

«Fear of silence, of loneliness. There was one time when Lee moved to Los Angeles to find work for us, and I stayed in Boston, in a one-night shelter for homeless people. We were able to trick our way into staying there for a week, but people got wise and kicked us around. But that’s beside the point. It was already late at night, and it was really cold. I had a temperature, plus I’d had a few extra smokes. I was alone in a small room with seven empty beds. It was there, in that silence, that it hit me how totally alone I was. And I already assumed that Lee wouldn’t come back, because we weren’t exactly on great terms at the time. I was always getting into fights, landing in jail.»

«And into piles of shit,» grumbled Lee sleepily, getting up from the couch and giving us a wave before heading to the bathroom.

«And it was there, in that little room, that I began to pray. For the first time in my life, I turned to God. I didn’t breathe for about ten seconds, and then it felt like God gave me another chance. I took a deep breath…»

«Maybe this time don’t let that chance pass you by, moron!» Lee shouted from the bathroom.

«He doesn’t always get me,» David whispered.

«And did you use your second chance?»

«It’s hard to answer that question.»

Lee joined us for breakfast.

«Coffee?» I asked.

«Yes, please.»

They jabbed each other in the side and immediately sat up straight when I looked over.

«What’s the plan today?»

«Dunno. How about you guys?»

David’s phone rang and he quickly left the apartment. Not the room, the apartment.

«Are there no napkins?» Lee asked.

«Ran out of them yesterday.»

«Know what I had a dream about?» he said contemplatively.

«What?»

«That everything was ok.»

«What’s that supposed to mean?»

«Basically, I don’t really remember my dream. But something good was going on.»

I smiled and poured myself some more coffee.

«Like coffee?»

«I love it.»

David came back and burst out in the doorway:

«I gotta go: it’s urgent! I’ll call you when I’m free. Connie, thank you so much, everything was perfect,» he kissed me just above my forehead, slapped Lee hard on the back, and ran out.

Lee’s gaze followed him.

«He’s a dick, for sure. But do you know what always impressed me about him? He never, ever gives up. Takes things through to the end. You wouldn’t believe what that, uh, entrepreneur of ours has gone through.»

I slid hot pancakes onto Lee’s plate.

«In school he got into a fight during every break. As a punishment, his foster father used to whip him on the back with a belt. We tried to run away twice. But our timing was off. And anyway, one day Dave decided it’d be hard on his foster parents. He was feeling guilty about it. But guilt didn’t play a big part in our lives,» Lee laughed, «we completely forgot about that for a couple years! Especially when we started living independently. Dave got into a big fight with two guys. One of them died, and David was charged with murder. He went to jail during the investigation. Of course, by then his foster parents had heard about everything. But enough time had gone by that they didn’t press him to come home. Plus, he had a bad relationship with his foster father because of the daughter.»

«Did they defend him in court?»

«Not exactly. They were present – they gave, like a description… I mean, his foster mother talked about what a gentle boy he was, that kinda thing… Pretty useless crap for the court.»

«What about his lawyer?»

«We got lucky: we found a lawyer who’d never had a case like that before. He was fresh out of law school and offered to do the job on the cheap. Back then we had absolutely nothing. His foster parents at first refused to pay, but Marilyn – the foster mother – gave a little bit of money. I chipped in everything I’d earned up until then. Basically, everything worked out in the end: David was found innocent and let go. But that depression he fell into at the time still hasn’t left him. When I couldn’t get him out of jail, he finally cracked. I mean, I did get him out of jail, but only two years later. That jail was horrible. The shit that happened to him there… You think he was always like that? That he was one more difficult teenager? Nope. I remember him. And then the turning point after jail. I was already sure that one day I’d open the door and see a body hanging from a noose. His first overdose and, of course, the first drugs… serious drugs. Things got out of hand. I even said goodbye to him, subconsciously. Literally everything around us was rotten. Then he was able to get a job at a club. Well, part of me was happy for him, that he was doing some kind of work. But then he was fired. I found him half-alive by a dumpster a little ways from the place.»

«God…» I whispered, listening to Lee attentively.

«Yeah, it wasn’t easy. I’m surprised by his behavior now: he’s practically a normal person. Well, an explosive normal person.»

He reached for the pancakes and the maple syrup.

«Long story short, after that we found somewhere to live. It was yet another homeless shelter, where David had a nervous breakdown and ended up in a mental hospital, where he stayed for a month. Meanwhile, I went around looking for a new place to live and a job for us. I worked in diners, washed dishes and cars, sold pot – gonna burn in hell for that,» Lee thought about it for a moment and then went on, «David came to Los Angeles too. We had a fight, then he told me he’d had enough and left. When a week went by and I realized that he wasn’t coming back, that’s when I freaked: I thought something had happened to him. He’d usually turn up by the end of the week. But this time he was gone for more than half a year. I’d already completely lost hope. Thought I’d end up seeing him again only to identify him. To be honest, because of his personality, I was sure that he’d been shot or beaten up in some back alley. While I was looking for him, I lost my perfectly normal studio apartment and my job. It turned out that that idiot was staying in a bar in some desert this side of the border, where he met you.»

«That’s right.»

«He talked about you a lot.»

I merely smiled at my own memories of my first meeting with David.

After breakfast, Lee asked me to give him a lift to North Highland Avenue.

«Thanks, Connie. Was great hanging out. See you around!»

«Bye!»

The radio. I never listened to it before, only when I was in taxis. One time I got into a taxi driven by an African American guy who turned Mozart’s «Eine Kleine Nachtmusik» on full blast. That was a memorable trip! His hands seemed to make sweeping gestures all by themselves, as if directing an invisible orchestra. I remember I was on my way to my first job interview. That was a good day.

And again the radio. And I’ve hit a dead end. Where did I go wrong? All day I drove around the Los Angeles, just cruising around the city. In the late afternoon, I decided to sit in Starbucks and read a newspaper. I resolved that from that day on I’d make a habit of doing that. In that very Starbucks on Robertson boulevard. Or was it Beverly Boulevard? Well, anyway, in precisely that Starbucks, in that location, at that time, once a week or two.

In the evening, perusing a lot of job vacancies hopefully, I realized that my knowledge that the past, the present and the future exist simultaneously don’t change anything. I still remember the past, think about the future and forget about the present. I’m a philosophical void. Just a typical, boring human with roots in the Renaissance, that is, in profound disappointment. We can speculate about life endlessly, yet end up never having lived… Days, weeks go by… And we’re all racing towards the future, which ends at the gates of kingdom come. But before going in, Heaven’s Director sets up a film viewing, and the screenplay’s your life. The screen sparks and sputters to life. And that’s when the viewing of a great human tragedy begins.

«Forgive me, God,» I whispered, turning over memories in my head.

My phone buzzed.

«What are you up to?» David’s voice in my ear.

«I’m sitting in Starbucks.»

«Whereabouts?»

I looked out the window again to make sure I got the street name right:

«Looks like the intersection of North Highland Avenue and Beverly Boulevard.»

«What do you say about walking down Santa Monica beach?»

«I’d love to!»

«It’s a twenty-minute drive. Go down Robertson Boulevard.»

«Ok. If I get lost I’ll call you.»

I stuck to Dave’s route but nonetheless relied on my close friend, the GPS. It took more than twenty minutes to get there. It was already getting dark. But everything around was gorgeous.

My destination was finally coming into view. I parked the car and went looking for David. He was sitting in the sand and smoking up a storm.

«Hi.» I sat down next to him and slid the hood off his head.

Dave looked at me and smiled contentedly.

«What?» I felt strangely embarrassed.

«Nice being here, with you.»

I sighed deeply and just gave a slight nod in response.

«What were you doing today?»

«I was in Starbucks. Well, actually I drove around the city all day, then I swung by Starbucks. Grabbed a newspaper, and decided to have a look at the job vacancies.»

«Find anything?»

«A lot of openings in public catering, oh and they’re also looking for specialists in air conditioner maintenance. Plus an architect’s assistant and an accountant. Baby sitters, elderly care providers,» I took a pensive breath, «maybe I’ll go for the second one.»

«Air conditioners?»

«Uh-huh.»

We both laughed, and Dave took out another cigarette.

«Why do you smoke?»

«Well, people smoke for a lot of reasons.»

«What are yours?»

«I don’t know how to deal with stress, and also I’m always worried about something.»

«So this is your way of relaxing?»

«Well, it’s one of the best on my ‘how-to-destress-in-a-minute-or-less list.»

I glanced at the cigarette between his lips. David took a pull, held it to the side, and gray smoke billowed theatrically in all directions.

«You never smoke before?»

«No.»

«Didn’t even try?»

«No.» I smiled.

«No way! Are you serious? Not even in the bathroom during break?»

«No.»

«And you never wanted to?»

«No!» I said again, resolutely.

«What planet are you from, anyway?» he exclaimed.

«No clue. Haven’t landed yet.»

«You always in flight mode?»

«Something like that.»

«Well, I can’t seem to get off the ground. Too firmly rooted. But I ended up with the brains of a space cadet and a dreamer. That’s probably why everything’s so shit all the time.»

«I think life is wonderful.»

Dave looked at me and smiled.

«Just like you.»

«Hoping your compliments will get you on my good side?»

«Not at all. I’m telling the truth. You’re just so… great!»

«Dork.»

Suddenly it started pouring.

«Whoop! It’s raining goddamn cats and dogs!» Dave grunted, staring at his wet cigarette.

«Wow…»

«Aren’t you gonna run to the car?»

«Let’s just get wet,» I said, and sneezed.

«Oh no you don’t! That’s what’s not going to happen! No colds for you!» Without a second thought, he scooped me up into his arms and ran for the car.

Dave decided to half-sing, half-yell some ridiculous country tune that I quickly picked up and started singing along to.

«That was amazing,» he said once we jumped in the car.

«That was really fun,» I kept laughing, «Jesus! We’re soaked!»

«F.Y.I, even my boxers are wet.»

«Call Lee and tell him to come to my place. We can use my hairdryer to dry your boxers.» I started the car.

«I don’t actually need them.»

«David, shut up!»

«Okey dokey.»

For the entire ride, Dave attempted to explain to Lee why his boxers needed to be blow-dried and why he had to participate. Lee was already standing by my entrance and waiting for us.

«Where were you?» he exclaimed, «did you guys get caught in the rain or something?»

«Somebody decided to get soaked.» Dave pointed at me.

«You’re one helluva romantic,» I grumbled and locked the car.

«He’s a perv,» observed Lee, and Dave smacked him behind the head.

«Dammit! The keys are still in the car!» I turned on my heel, grabbed the keys to the apartment and we finally got inside.

Lee got some water out of the fridge and sat down in front of the TV.

«I’ll just change quickly. It’s freezing!» I went to my room.

«What should I wear?» shouted Dave.

«I’ll find something right now!» I called through the door.