Читать книгу Searching for Sam - Sophie Bienvenu - Страница 16

TONIGHT, ME AND SAM ARE SUPPOSED TO SLEEP at a guy’s place who is letting his cousin stay there while he’s out West. He said it was okay for me to spend the night there because she doesn’t get uptight about shit.

The guy’s name is Max. He was playing guitar in the Joliette metro when we ran into each other a few days ago, a bit before he left. In the middle of a song, he stopped and yelled: “Hey, Sam!” Sam looked real happy to see him. Me, not so much, because I couldn’t place him. I never remember faces. We talked a little, but I still couldn’t place him.

“You still at the corner of Saint-Denis?” he said.

I made like it was fine, but it tore me apart inside.

“No, I’m between places right now. But I mainly hang out at the corner of Masson, a little further up.”

That’s when he told me about his apartment, about out West, and about his cousin being totally cool.

“I’m helping her out because her ex took off after running through all her cash, the dirtbag.”

“Shit.”

“Yep. So, anyway. Tell her you’re my friend.”

Sam was wagging her tail so hard while he was petting her that she was whacking herself on the muzzle with it. It seemed like a good idea, so I said okay, even though it bugged me that I didn’t know where I knew him from. That’s just rude.