I found Holly waiting for me outside my apartment. I had just gotten back from Christmas shopping at the mall and I had no idea how long she had been there. When I saw her she was knocking hopelessly on the door and obviously trying to figure out if it would be worth her time to wait for me to get back. When she saw my car drive up a smile broke out on her face. I didn’t take my time getting up to my apartment, but I didn’t rush either. After all, it’s not like she had been invited.

“Hurry up, hurry up,” she said, bouncing as she waited for me. It occurred to me she had probably been here a while.

“What’s up?” I asked as I opened the door and let her slip in.

“Nothing,” she said, trotting in. “Just wanted to get this to you before tomorrow, since I’ll be spending all day with my family.” She presented me with a thin envelope, meticulously wrapped in an off-green wrapping paper.

“Thanks,” I said as I took it from her, surprised. I hadn’t expected to do Christmas exchanges until after Christmas, simply because we hadn’t had time to meet beforehand. That she would stop by my house to drop off my present didn’t surprise me, but I admit, it did catch me off-balance. And her gift was sitting, unwrapped, in the bag in my hand.

“Well?” she said impatiently. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

I gave her a side-long glance. “What, and not wait until tomorrow?”

“But then I can’t see your face.”

I’ll give her that one. I usually buy the gift just to get the expression. But what could be exciting about something that I guessed was a gift certificate was beyond me?

With a few quick rips, I tore the package open and found myself blinking at her present. It was indeed a gift certificate. But not from any store I had expected.

“Sixty dollars,” I read aloud, “to be spent at Lens Crafters?”

My annoyed, perplexed expression didn’t faze her a bit. “Yes. On a new pair of glasses. Hopefully, on ones that don’t have dark lenses.”

I scowled at her. “You can’t possibly think my sun-glasses look that bad?”

“Oh, they look fine,” she said, grinning. “But I don’t think it would hurt you to get an alternate pair.”

“So you bought me a gift-certificate?”

“Well, I could just take that back and pick out your new pair of glasses myself….”

“I can handle it, thank you,” I said flatly.

She laughed. “You can get another pair of sun-glasses if you want,” she said. “But at least get a new pair. From the sound of it, you haven’t had your eyes checked in years. They could have gotten a lot worse, for all you know. Anyway,” her grin was a bit wider now, “I have to go. I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Wait, wait,” I said, sticking the envelope on my desk. “You get a present too, you know.”

She looked at me, a little surprised. “You actually got me something?”

“Ha ha,” I answered. I looked down into the bag, seeing a glint from the present I had found for her. Maybe I hadn’t given her a sixty dollar gift certificate, but I had bought her something for Christmas. “Hold on a second,” I turned around, “and close your eyes.”

She laughed at the last part, but complied. Scowling, I pulled her present out and then began tearing the Dillard’s bag into strips and wrapping it up with them. When it was covered, held closed only by my fingers, I put it into her outstretched hands.

She looked at the brown paper wad that she was holding, a little uncertain about it since the paper was beginning to unwrap itself.

“I figured you’d want it wrapped,” I explained.

“Sure,” she said.

I looked away, rather than watch her pick the paper apart. Sure, the gift certificate was a little sarcastic, but it was still personal. After seeing it, I wasn’t too happy anymore with the gift I had chosen for her. She’d be polite and say it was very nice, or something, but I knew she wouldn’t really mean it.

“Oh,” she said, breathless. “It’s wonderful!” I looked back up to check for sarcasm, but she was still gazing at the locket. Cradling it in her left hand, she deftly popped the clasp on the side with her right index finger. Then, cupping a half in each hand, she pulled it open. I hadn’t actually seen the inside of it yet, myself, but she didn’t mind the burnished bronze that almost looked dirty compared to the gilt on the outside. She smiled and gently closed it with a soft snap. When she finally looked back up at me, her eyes were shining. “Where in the world did you find this?”

“Well, I was at the mall…” I trailed off, not certain I wanted to ruin the moment with the truth.

“Oh, never mind,” she interrupted me, “I don’t want to know.” Suddenly, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me. “Thank you,” she whispered happily. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“You’re, uh, welcome,” I said, returning the hug.

She laughed and pulled away, looking down at her feet. She suddenly seemed too shy to meet my gaze. “Anyway, I have to head over to my family’s now. I’ll see you, what, the day after tomorrow?”

“Sure,” I said, watching as she put her coat back on and made her way to the door.

She gave me one last, glowing smile before she opened the door and stepped through.

A gift that says we’re not dating, I thought to myself. Obviously, that wasn’t it.

It took Amy fifteen minutes to drive me home. We didn’t say one word the entire time; we had said everything that needed to be said at the restaurant. When she pulled into our apartment complex, I barely waited until the car had stopped before I was opening the door. “Wait a minute,” she stuttered out in surprise. I ignored her and kept walking. “Bye,” she shouted sarcastically. I didn’t bother to turn around when I waved her off. You could tell by the sound of her car’s tires that she was pissed.

I trotted up the steps to our second floor apartment, wanting to just get home and lock the door before I managed to stumble into another disaster; I’d dealt with enough crazy women for one night. Half-way up the stairs, I realized I could see someone’s legs sticking out from the doorway. I slowed, uncertain, half-expecting it to be some drunk vampire-hunter dropping by for a visit. Instead, it was someone who surprised me even more.

It was Holly.

Honestly, I should have known. She’s the only person alive crazy enough to fall asleep outside in the middle of winter. She had wrapped herself up in her coat, but she still shivered.

What in the world…I thought. I scowled down at her, but then couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I nudged her foot with my own. She started awake, blinking uncertainly around her. “Hey,” I said. “There’s a couch inside, you know.”

She looked up at me. “Hi,” she said, smiling to see me but still looking guilty. She wasn’t certain what to say, understandably, since the last time we had spoken two weeks ago, it hadn’t really been on the best of terms.

“Hi,” I answered. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting,” she said softly, “for you.” She gave me a weak smile. Her eyes were tense, like she’d either start crying or hug me, depending on what I said next.

“Yeah, well, you could have waited for me at Baskins and saved us both a lot of trouble.”

She wasn’t certain how to take that, her lips going from smiling to trembling about six times in the space of thirty seconds. “Sorry,” she said meekly.

“No, it’s okay.” I leaned forward, resting my forehead on my front door, looking back down at her. I was surprised my sun-glasses stayed on as well as they did. “God, you wouldn’t believe the night I had.”

“Bad night?” she asked, too amused at my position to even be borderline unhappy.

“I’ve had worse,” I admitted. “But still… A couple of gurus, Tony, a flat tire… and then her.”

“You had a flat tire?” Holly asked. “And who’s her.” It’s always amusing when you get a hint of icy jealousy from just implying you were talking with another woman.

“Yes, I had a flat tire,” I explained. “That’s why I’m here so late. And her would be the infamous Amy.”

“Ah,” Holly said, understanding. She raised her hand up, gently reaching for my sun-glasses. I straightened quickly, steadying them as I did. “They were about to fall,” she chided me.

I shrugged. “You want to come inside?”

“Sure.”

I helped her up. Her hand was icy cold when I touched it. “How long have you been out here?” I asked, unlocking the door.

“A while,” she said sheepishly.

“And how long is a while?”

“You know. A long time.”

I grinned at her. “Isn’t Brent home? He would have let you in.”

“I know,” she said. Her voice broke a little and she looked away from me. “It’s just… I wanted to see you as soon as you got home… And I’m sorry.” Her words bubbled up like froth. “It’s just, when you said I should have gone home, I thought you meant you didn’t want to see me. And I like spending time with you, and you’re a real close friend, and I know I shouldn’t have taken it so personally, but I…” She trailed off when she realized I was grinning. “Hey!” she snapped. “I’m serious here.” She took a step back, hands on her hips and eyes flashing. “Maybe I should just go back home, then.” There she was, threatening to go back to her car and drive home when she waited at my doorstep for at least an hour. The funniest part was that I knew she was serious.

“Oh, c’mon! You just got here.” I gave her my best grin and then carefully placed my hands on her shoulders. It wasn’t my fault she was so cute when she couldn’t choose which emotion to go with. “Really, it’s ok. I guess… I guess maybe I could have said that better.”

She looked up at me tentatively, looking for something on my face. For once, she seemed to like what she found. In one smooth motion she slid forward and then wrapped her arms around me tight, squeezing as hard as she could. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her words muted because her face was crushed against my chest.

“I told you,” I answered, a little unsure of what I was supposed to do with my arms, “it’s okay.”

She looked at me skeptically. “So you’re not mad?”

“No, I’m not mad.” Well, not anymore, and not at you, anyway. Awkwardly, I returned her hug, wrapping my arms loosely around her shoulders. “Christ, Holly, you’re freezing!”

“And tired,” she answered playfully, leaning her weight into me. “I guess I was out there a while.”

“How long were you waiting?”

“Promise not to laugh.”

“Promise.”

“Two hours.”

“Two hours? Are you kidding me? You could have gotten pneumonia.”

“Sorry,” she repeated meekly, “but you weren’t at Café Yoko’s, so I thought you’d be home.”

“But I was there tonight.”

“You were?”

“Yeah, for a while, too.” I did some calculations in my head. “You were here for two hours? I must have just missed you then.” I gave a short, friendly laugh. “You should have waited a bit longer.”

“Apparently,” she said, with only a touch of mock-bitterness. “I should never have listened to that woman.”

“Woman? Which woman?”

Holly shrugged. “This really skinny, black haired girl. I’ve never seen her at Yoko’s before. But apparently she was apprenticing for guru-ship and could tell I was pretty down in the dumps. Anyway, we got to talking, and she told me I should go to your apartment and wait for you.”

“So that’s what happened….”

Holly misread the tone in my voice. “Oh come on, it wasn’t that stupid. I knew you’d have to come home eventually.”

“Unless I got a flat tire, of course”.

“Well, there was that,” she admitted with a laugh, then sighed, pulling away. “It’s late, I should probably be getting home.”

I didn’t let her go, but held her so I could get a good look at her face. She looked back quizzically. A part of my mind could easily envision her falling asleep at the wheel and her car skidding into a telephone pole on the way back. “You certain you want to drive a car, as tired as you are?”

“Well, if you insist, I can stay here,” she said with a laugh. “Will my noble knight therefore take the couch?”

“Nah, last time I did that, my neck got a funny crick in it.”

“So you mean I get the couch then? Chivalry is dead, I see.”

“I didn’t say that.”

She looked at me, askance. I deftly detached myself. “I’m too worn out tonight to want to do anything besides crash. C’mon, I think I’ve got two pillows.”

“Sure,” she said, here voice a little faint.

She followed me to my room and, as promised, I managed to dig up a second pillow from out of my closet. I have some sweat pants I can wear. I thought, and found those too. Holly sat on my bed, watching me, uncertain of how she should act. When I turned around, holding a pillow and the sweats, she looked a little surprised. “You’re wearing that?” she asked.

“Yeah, is that a problem?”

“No…” she said. And then, blushing a little, she pulled her pants off, revealing her legs and a bit of panties too, since her shirt wasn’t quite long enough.

“You want to borrow a t-shirt?” I asked.

“Please?” she said, blushing a little brighter.

I left the room to change and to let her switch shirts. When I got back, she was already nestled into the bed, the blankets pulled all the way up to her chin. I turned the light off, placed my sunglasses onto my desk, and then slid into place beside her. She turned over and faced me when she felt my weight on my bed. I took a few second to get comfortable, making sure there was a good foot between us. Head resting on her pillow, looking over an expanse of comforter, she watched me with open eyes.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Just wondering if you’re actually going to fall asleep.”

“Eventually, yeah.”

“Well, you should,” she said, burying herself a bit deeper into the covers. “Because we’re going out for breakfast again tomorrow, and I don’t intend to wait for you.”

“Fair enough,” I agreed. I wasn’t too worried about it. I slept less than she did, usually, I just stayed up a lot later.

“Good,” she said. And then with a look of absolute contentment, she closed her eyes and shifted until she found a spot that was comfortable. “Night,” she said softly.

“Night,” I whispered back.

After a few minutes her breathing became deep and regular, and I knew she had fallen into a deep sleep.

I didn’t join her immediately. My body was too used to staying up until it was almost morning for me to just doze off, no matter how tired I was. Instead, I watched her face, studying her cheeks and eyelashes, counting her soft breaths. It would be almost two hours before exhaustion finally won out and dragged me down, somewhat unwillingly I might add, into oblivion.

Amy broke up with Brent by a phone call.

How pathetic was that?

And we had just been talking about her when she called. Mostly just talking about how obsessed Brent was.

“So,” I asked, “you and Amy are having problems?”

Brent hesitated. “Not problems, really. I mean we’re still talking.”

“But?” I coaxed out of him.

He looked away. “I don’t know. There’s a distance now.”

“A distance?”

“Yeah. Some kind of separation. She doesn’t smile when she sees me. She doesn’t seem happy to see me. She’s just always angry when I’m around her.”

I considered it. “Is something pissing her off right now?”

Brent shook his head. “Not that she tells me. All she says is school’s fine, work’s fine, everything’s fucking fine! Except for me. She just doesn’t seem to want to spend time with me anymore.”

I frowned. “Did you guys have a fight or something?”

His eyes whipped back up to meet mine. He opened his mouth to say something, then bit it back. “No. We didn’t have a fight.”

“And nothing big happened, right?” I asked. “Like she didn’t get raped in her ear by a lesbian midget with a strap-on or anything, did she?” Brent glared at me, but just shook his head. I thought about it some more. “Well, you have been pretty clingy lately. She probably just needs some space.” Like a day she doesn’t have to spend worrying about you dropping by.

“You really think that’s it?” Brent asked, the words sticking in his throat.

I shrugged. “It’s the only thing I can think of, really. I mean, you’ve been seeing her every day for the past few weeks. I know that if a girl spends that much time with me I need to not see her for a few days. Everyone needs some space. Even girlfriends.” And even roommates, I added wryly to myself.

Brent went silent. “So you really think that’s the answer?” he asked miserably after a few minutes. “Don’t go out with her?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like it’s the end of the world. Just leave her alone for a while. Give her some time to work out whatever’s bothering her.”

He seemed to curl up into a little ball in his chair. “I don’t think I can.”

“Shit. You sound co-dependent or something.”

His head snapped up and he glared at me.

I shrugged. “You do.”

He went back to staring at his feet. “So what do you think? Wait until next week?” I didn’t have to tell him the answer, he already knew it. Slowly, he pulled himself up to his feet. “I’d better call her then. Tell her I won’t be seeing her for a while.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t even call.”

“Are you crazy?” he demanded angrily. “I told you, it’s getting bad. If I don’t at least call her, it will fall apart.”

I shrugged. “Do what you want. But I wouldn’t call her.”

He sat back down and took a few minutes to sulk about it. “You really think that’s what I should do?” he finally asked.

“That’s what I would do,” I said. “Even a phone call can be kind of intrusive. You’ve been acting like you’ve been sharing vital organs for the last few weeks. Back off a little.”

He thought about it a bit more. “I guess you’re right. I mean, being around her isn’t helping. How much harm can it do to not be there?” He took a few moments to come to terms with his decision. “So,” he said, looking up hopefully, “you want to go do something?”

Shit, I thought, just what have I gotten myself into? I was saved by the telephone from having to answer. I picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Brent?” A trembling voice said on the other end.

“Amy.” That was more for Brent’s benefit than hers. “Hold on a second.”

I handed the receiver to him. He looked stunned, like he wasn’t certain what to do with the call, but then an ecstatic smile plastered itself on his face. I thought his lower jaw might crack off, it was so ear-to-ear. I guess he figured this meant she was feeling better. “Amy!” he said happily into the receiver, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I didn’t think you’d call. So what have you been up to lately?” Whatever her answer was, it dropped the smile right off his face. “Well, no, I…” He hesitated, his voice falling. “That’s…” he snapped angrily, then bit it back. “That’s not fair, I….” He noticed me watching him and he dropped his voice a little lower, turning away. “All I said was that I wanted to see you tonight! I…” He was struggling with her, that was obvious.

Surreptitiously, I put my ear-phones on, but they didn’t do anything. I could still hear Brent’s fall as clearly as before.

“Look,” he said, and I could tell he wasn’t angry anymore; he was desperate. “I’m not trying to control… No, wait! It’s not that bad. We can work it out.” He went silent, and out of the corner of my eyes I could see him put one hand on the table to steady himself. Whatever she was saying was practically bringing him to his knees. “Please…” he said, and I thought he was trying for an Academy Award. “Please. Don’t do this. I need…” He went silent and then I heard the soft, final beep as he turned the phone off. He didn’t move from his spot on the floor, his head barely resting on the table.

After he spent ten minutes like that, I took my ear-phones off and quit pretending I hadn’t heard him. I turned around in my chair, looking at him, sprawled on the table like he had been crucified. “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.

“She broke up with me,” he said, his voice muffled by the table.

“I figured that out. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Why?” he asked, still not moving. “So I can dictate my will to you.”

Well, shit. I thought. There goes the weekend. “It can’t be that bad.”

“It is,” he said hollowly. “Of course it is.”

This was new, I admitted to myself. I’d dealt with him over almost everything, but breaking up with a girlfriend was something I wasn’t sure how to handle. “Don’t make me give you the whole ‘hundreds of fish in the sea’ speech.” I gave him a kick. “Now get up.”

“No.”

“Dammit Brent! Move! Now!” I kicked him again.

“Fuck you!” He let out a bitter laugh. “Keep kicking. Maybe you’ll hit something vital.”

I made a disgusted sound, but took a step back. “Fine,” I said simply. “You want to wallow here in self-disgust, feel free. But if you think I’m going to spend the evening sitting here, listening to how much you want to kill yourself, you’re out of your mind.” I turned and stalked to the door.

“Wait!” he choked out.

I hesitated, then turned around and waited for him to say something.

He pulled himself off the floor, leaving the phone on the table. “It’s just, after all that’s happened, the grad school thing and everything else, for her to just…”

He trailed off when I turned away and dug through the refrigerator until I found two bottles of beer. I popped them both open and handed him one. “I know the story,” I said.

He took a shaky swallow from his beer. He made a face at the taste, like he always did, but then closed his eyes and took a longer swig. When he opened them again, he seemed a little less pale. “You know, I could swear I saw this coming.”

“Tell me about it,” I agreed with him.

He nodded at my words. “For the past month, everything just felt wrong. Like it was all falling apart, and it was just a house of cards we were holding together. And one little argument would bring it all toppling down.” His voice fell away and he took another drink from his beer. “God, I almost can’t believe it.”

I let him babble on as he drank away. I know giving alcohol to someone who’s depressed is generally a bad thing, but I figured if I could get him to drink enough, he might pass out. And when he woke in the morning, maybe he’d be able to cope with it better.

Besides – I had to meet Holly in a few hours.

It only made sense that halfway between Café Yoko’s and home, my car got a flat tire. I mean, everything else had gone wrong that night; I was half-expecting to get home and find Dan camped-out in the living room. So naturally, when I went to get the spare out of the trunk, it wasn’t there. I stared at the empty spot where it should have been for a good minute before I remembered that we had put it on Brent’s car the last time he got a flat tire, and that I hadn’t gotten it back from him. And of course, I had let my cell phone run out of batteries.

I closed the trunk and sat back down in the driver’s seat.

Well, shit, I thought, banging my head on the steering wheel. My options were to either sit in the car and freeze overnight, which wasn’t a possibility, or walk the mile or so to the nearest store or restaurant and pray Brent would actually be home so I could call him to come pick me up. Finally, I buttoned up my coat, locked the door, and started walking. A few cars passed me on my way, but no one stopped to help and I could hardly blame them.

After about fifteen minutes, I reached the very Waffle House that Brent and I spent so much time avoiding. I looked around, but the only other close buildings were a gas station and a closed fast food restaurant. They weren’t really giving me much of a choice. Reluctantly, I went inside.

The cook who hated me wasn’t there, so that was something. But at a table by the counter was a girl who stood up when she saw me, eyes wide in surprise. I was surprised, too. It was Amy.

* * *

“So your tire went flat?” Amy asked, sitting across from me. I hadn’t really wanted to talk to her, let alone sit at the same table. But she, like so many other people these days, apparently took my acknowledgment of their existence as an invitation for conversation. So here I was, listening to my roommate’s ex-girlfriend attempt to sound sympathetic. “Can I give you a ride or something?”

I shrugged as a waitress dropped a mug and a pot in front of me. Amy had even bought me a coffee. How sweet. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. I can’t imagine Brent’s asleep by now. I’ll give him a call.”

“It’s on my way home, anyways,” she said. “There’s no reason to call him out here in the middle of the night.”

“It’s no big deal. It’s not like he has anything better to do.”

“I see…” Amy said. I could tell she was trying to think of something to say. “So what have you been up to lately?”

“Oh, the usual. Holding down a job, paying rent, talking Brent down from killing himself two or three times a week.”

She actually looked a little shocked. “You mean… Is he…” Her voice trailed off for an instant. “Is he okay?”

“I suppose,” I answered nastily. “I mean as all right as you can be when you’re willing to hold a gun to your own head.”

“He got a gun?” her voice shook.

“Yup. Tried to kill himself.” I grinned at her. “And he’s so thoughtful, he even wanted to take me with him once.”

She looked sickened. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

I shrugged. I wasn’t about to feel guilty for not lying to her. “It’s all true. You didn’t actually expect to hear something else, did you? Like, ‘Oh no, Amy, Brent’s just fine and dandy. Wakes up singing every morning!’ Please!”

She looked down, staring at the table. “I’m sorry.”

“Right. Of course you are. So is Brent, if you’d ask him.”

She didn’t look up and we drifted back into uncomfortable silence. Or at least she did. I was kind of enjoying watching the bitch squirm. I took a few sips of my coffee, wondering whether or not it’d be okay to just get up and walk out. Then she spoke again. “It’s just… If there’s anything I can do to help…”

I laughed. “Hell, if you feel that bad about it, you could always drop by once a week to give him a pity screw.”

She didn’t say anything at first, then let out something that sounded like a choked sob and looked up at me. She was on the verge of tears.

“Shit,” I said before she opened her mouth. “Sorry. I guess I want too far with that one. But how do you think you’d help?”

She looked back down and grabbed a napkin to wipe her eyes.

The whole scene was getting embarrassing. Why the hell break up with a guy if you’re just going to sit in a shoddy restaurant and cry about it to his roommate? I stood up. “Anyway, I need to get going. Hey,” I asked one of the waiters, “can I use your phone?”

“No, it’s okay,” Amy said, standing up shakily. “I’ll take you home.”

After all that? I wondered. You liked me taking shots at you? “I told you, it’s fine.”

She shook her head. “No, I can drive you.” She looked at me, forcing a smile beneath her reddened eyes. “I’m going that way.

I shrugged. “If you really want to.” I couldn’t complain. I was in a bad mood, and the sooner I got home, the better. But I wasn’t going to let her come up so she could say ‘hi’ to Brent and try and convince herself he wasn’t as bad as I had made out. The idea of dealing with him going for a knife once she left wasn’t exactly what I had wanted after everything else tonight.

She paid for my coffee and whatever she’d had earlier and we stepped through the door and into the Waffle House parking lot. I followed her until we stopped in front of a beat up Ford Contour.

“Same dented car.” I commented.

“Yes,” she answered, happy to get at least one shot on me tonight. “But at least I have a spare in the back.”



I should have known what I was getting into when I started dating Holly. I mean, any girl who will get close to literally kicking a customer out the front door has to have an issue or two, right?

A few weeks after we had first gone out, I picked her up on a Friday from work. After we had chatted for a little while and agreed that Wafflehouse two nights in a row wasn’t healthy, we made our way to Café Yoko’s.

She accepted it with a gracious nod. “Thanks. How much was it.”

I seated myself across from her and put my beer on the table. “Don’t worry about it.”

She regarded me with just a hint of irritation. “I can pay for my own coffee, you know.”

I rolled my eyes. We had done this dance every time we came here. “Then buy the next round. It’s not a big deal.”

“Fine. I will,” she told me. I shrugged and took a drink from my pint glass. If she wanted to pay the price of a beer for a cup of coffee, that was her business. “So,” she said after she had ruined a perfectly good cup of coffee with cream and sugar. “What’s the real reason you wear sunglasses all the time?”

I raised an eyebrow at her, though I doubt she could see it. “I told you, I broke my normal pair and this is all I have left in my prescription.”

“Sure they are,” she agreed, letting me feel her sarcasm. Then she gave me a small smile. “Please. We’ve known each other for over a month now, and I’ve yet to see you without those sunglasses. You’re not going to tell me your optometrist still has them back ordered, are you?”

“Well, glasses are expensive. And I’m not exactly working with much income right now. You have seen my car, right?”

She gave me a skeptical look. “I don’t buy that one either.” When I didn’t say anything, she scowled, irritated. “C’mon! What could possibly drive you to wear your sunglasses everywhere you go?”

I gave her a cryptic smile. “Privileged information.”

Her mouth twisted a little. “Fine. Be that way.” Then she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “But I warn you, I’ll find out soon enough.”

I took a quick drink before answering. “I’m sure you will.”

“I will. Just you wait.” She went silent, staring at me thoughtfully, unconsciously tracing patterns in the water from her glass. “It’s not some stupid macho thing like you think it’ll help you in a fight, is it?”

“No…” I answered, frowning at her. “Where’d you get that idea?”

She flushed a little. “Nowhere. Just… My ex-boyfriend always wore sunglasses all the time, too. He said he wore them so that if he got in a fight, they couldn’t see his eyes.”

“Sunglasses, huh.” I considered it briefly, then glanced at her over my beer. “Sounds like a jack-ass.”

“He was,” she agreed readily.

I gave a dry laugh. “Really? Is that why you broke up with him?”

She shook her head. “No.” She paused. “Actually, he broke up with me… It was a messy break-up and I took it pretty hard. I spent most of the year afterwards in near-depression.” She gave a bitter laugh. “I got over it, though.”

“So if he was a jack-ass, why were you so hung up on him?”

Her eyes snapped back up to mine and she glared. “It took me a year to figure out he was a jack-ass, okay?”

“All right, all right,” I said.

“Sorry… I doubt you really wanted to hear about my past loves, did you.”

So are you here for me? Or the sunglasses? “No, no, it’s fine. I mean, that wouldn’t have been my choice in conversation, but that’s no problem.”

She laughed. A rich, playful laugh. “Then what do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know, something more current? You have any boyfriends?”

“Nope,” she answered. I had figured as much, but I wanted to be certain. “What about you?” she countered. “Any girls you’re seeing?”

“Nah. Haven’t really dated anyone since college.”

“And why would that be?” she teased. “Can’t find the right girl?”

“More like I can’t find the time.”

“Oh come on! If you wanted it badly enough, you could find it.” She gave me a smug grin. “Or maybe you just haven’t found a girl yet who was worthy of a precious hour of your time.”

“Maybe,” I said, then took a drink to give me an excuse not to say anything else.

“Anyway, what do you want to do after…” She trailed off and her eyes narrowed at something over my shoulder. “Him!”

“Who?” I asked, turning around. Her ex, maybe?

“Hold on.” She got up, not even noticing I had said anything. “I’ll be right back.” As I watched, she marched purposely up to a lone man in a suit ordering a drink at the counter. I couldn’t tell if it was her ex or not. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses, but maybe he was just another boyfriend she had yet to tell me about. Whoever he was, he had met Holly before, because when he saw her striding so purposely towards him, the look on his face went from confusion to recognition to out-right fear. He took a few step backwards, tripped over someone’s feet, and then fell flat on his ass, knocking several drinks out of people’s hands and all over his suit. The only thing he could do was look up and blink as Holly stood over him.

Without a word, she reached over, grabbed his beer from the top of the counter, then promptly dumped it over his head. It was mostly a pointless action since her ex, or whoever he was, was already more or less soaked. She clanked the glass back down, then turned and marched back to her seat across from me, an utterly satisfied smile on her face.

I looked at her, looked at the guy, then looked back to her, considering. “Remind me never to piss you off… Was that him?”

My words brought her back from whatever ecstasy she had found from completely humiliating the guy. “Huh? Who?”

“Your ex-boyfriend?”

She burst out laughing. “No, no…. He came by for ice-cream this afternoon and was a total ass-hole.”

I just looked at her, shocked for a second, and started laughing myself. “Wait… wait a minute! You mean all he did was piss you off at Baskin Robbin’s?”

She straightened up a bit. “He went off on one of our 15 year olds,” she answered primly. “The poor boy was pale for the whole shift afterwards. And that jerk’s only reason was that he didn’t think he had gotten enough ice cream. What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” I answered, lifting my sun-glasses up just enough to wipe my eyes. “It’s just… Well, like I said. Remind me never to piss you off.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Am I supposed to take that as an insult or a compliment?”

“However you want to,” I answered, then glanced over at the mess around the counter. “But we might want to consider leaving pretty quick.”

She followed my eyes, then let out a laugh. “Yeah, I suppose so. Did you want to take me home.”

I finished my beer and then grinned at her. “Actually, I was wondering if you might want to go home with me.”

She looked slightly taken aback. “And finally meet this infamous room-mate of yours?”

I shrugged. “Well, you’ll have to eventually, I imagine.”

“True,” she agreed, blushing a little.

“Anyways…” I indicated the staff, who were mopping up the mess at the counter and glaring at us, “we should probably get going. Now.”



Tony and Guido always managed to show up at the worst possible times, usually when I’m in a hurry and about leave. So right on schedule, after I had spent ten minutes debating about whether I should get another beer or just go home, they appeared. Before I could sneak out, Tony saw me.

“Hey, Shades! How ya doin’?” he called from across the cafe. He more or less shoved his way past the few people standing between me and him.

“Hi,” I said, forcing myself to be polite.

His grin broadened even more. Tony probably couldn’t have detected the strain in my voice if I had yelled at him. “Haven’t seen you here in a while, at least not alone. Where’s your girl?”

I winced slightly. “You mean Holly?”

“Yeah,” Tony said, “the spunky chick.”

“Avoiding me.” I don’t think I could have said that politely if I had wanted to.

“Ah,” he said, giving me a knowing nod. “Playing hard to get.”

I glared at him, but I didn’t feel like continuing the conversation. “So where’s Guido?”

“Getting the drinks.” He noticed my empty glass. “You want anything?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“C’mon, Shades. Don’t give me that. Since when do you get just one drink? Or even three, for that matter. Guido!” he yelled across the room. “Get another one.” He didn’t check to see if he had been heard. Hell, I don’t think it even occurred to him that he might not have been.

Tony sat down across from me. He took out a cigarette and offered me one, but I waved it away. He shrugged slightly, then lit his up. He took a drag, then blew the smoke out, banging the ash off the tip. “So,” he said conversationally, “Holly’s playing hard to get all of a sudden?”

I gave him a look like he was crazy. “No,” I explained, “she’s avoiding me. As in, she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

“Nah. No girl does that.”

“Well, this one is. As in, taking off from work so she can avoid me.”

“Hmm…” Tony thought for a second, pulling from his cigarette. “What’d you do, cheat on her? I’ve lost a chick or two like that. They take it personally, or something.” He sat back in his chair, making himself more comfortable. “The thing you gotta understand is, girls, they take a lot of things personally. Like calling their friends ‘bitches’, or not phoning them. Even forgetting their birthday or anniversary or something pisses them off. It’s like, I’ve got 366 other days to worry about. How am I supposed to remember that that particular one is special? But cheating on them?” He shook his head. “Nothing makes ‘em mad like that. Still haven’t figured that one out.”

He gave me a respectful grin. “Damn, Shades! I didn’t think you had it in you! It’s just like my Uncle Louie always told me: ‘You have to fool around on your girl-friend to fool around on your enemies’ or something like that.” Tony spent some time thinking again. “But you know, I never quite figured out what he meant by that.”

I rolled my eyes, but didn’t feel like fixing the old saying in Tony’s convoluted mind. Instead, “I didn’t cheat on her.”

Tony looked at me blankly. “You didn’t?”

“I didn’t.”

I could see Tony thinking again. “Then did you forget her anniversary?”

I ground my knuckles against my forehead. “We weren’t even dating, dammit!”

Tony stared at me for a good thirty seconds before answering. I was wondering if he would give me some kind of new enlightenment. Instead I got, “You weren’t?”

“No, we weren’t.”

“So why’d you spend so much time with her?”

“Maybe because I liked to? Or aren’t we allowed to be platonic?”

“Okay, okay… So now she’s avoiding you?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm… You know what you need to do, Shades?” Tony said suddenly. “You need to buy her a few dozen roses. Then you need to go by her house and sit on her doorstep, waiting for her. And then, when she gets home, you need to stand up and shove them into her hands and say, ‘I love you! I need you back. I’ll never do – whatever it is you did – again.’”

I gave Tony a long look. “Done that a lot, I take it?”

“Yup,” Tony answered with a nod. “It works at least three times on every girl. A fourth or a fifth if she’s really into it.”

“And what if that doesn’t work.”

“It will.”

“For the sake of argument here, let’s say it doesn’t, okay? Let’s say it just makes her madder. What then?”

Tony considered that for a moment. “Well, is she any good in bed?”

“I don’t know. Didn’t I just tell you we weren’t dating?”

“Well…” Tony seemed torn about what he wanted to say. “In that case, you try the rose thing and if it doesn’t work, just get rid of her.” Tony shook his head fatefully. “A girl that bitchy just isn’t worth it.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No problem,” he answered cheerily.

“So that’s it?” I asked him,wishing I had another beer.

Tony frowned, realizing he hadn’t really helped me. “I just don’t know what else to tell you.”

Big surprise there. “Yeah, well, I don’t either.” I couldn’t keep the disgust out of my voice. “It was just a joke. And she took it personally.”

“Women do that,” Tony said sagely, going back to contemplating his cigarette.

I nodded. “Yeah they do.” Holly hadn’t taken it as a joke. She had heard something in it that she wasn’t supposed to, something I hadn’t meant. And it hardly seemed fair that she wouldn’t at least let me explain before she shut me out. For not the first time in the past two weeks, I found myself wishing I had been more careful with my words. I hate losing people, especially for something as small as a bad joke.

Tony had finished his cigarette and was quashing it out of existence. “Well, you could always ask the guy in the back.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why does everyone swear on this guy?”

“He’s smart,” Tony said seriously. “Real smart. He makes me feel stupid sometimes.”

Oh, that’d be hard. Out loud, I said, “But don’t you have to buy him a pizza or something?”

Tony shrugged. “This late? I bet a beer would do it. Guido!” Tony turned around to find Guido right behind him. “Oh. Uh, we’re gonna need another beer.”

Guido blinked, looking around. “Brent here?”

“Nah. We’re going to go ask the Guru.”

Guido frowned, but before he could head back to the counter, I stood up. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t want another anyway.” Inwardly, I frowned at myself. “So this guy can help me? You’re sure?”

Tony grinned, glad to be helpful in his own way. “If anyone can tell you what to do, he can.”

*                                                       *                                                       *

I could tell by the look in the Guru’s eyes that he didn’t like me from the start.

That was fine. I didn’t much like him, either.

“Tony. Guido.” The Guru greeted them gravely, each with a half-bow. Then his eyes focused on me. “Who is your friend?”

“This is Shades,” Tony explained hastily, actually trying to sound polite and formal. “He’s having trouble with his girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

But the Guru took no notice. “And is he the one who makes this offer of beer.”

“Yes,” Tony answered.

“I see.” The Guru turned to me and gave me a rather forced smile. “So then, tell me your story.”

Story? I thought, What the hell? Why can’t he just say ‘What’s the problem? I took a deep breath. After all, what could it hurt? “Well, you see my friend,” I emphasized the word for Tony, “has been avoiding me and…” I trailed off when I noticed the Guru was shaking his head.

“No,” he said, subtly annoyed. “I said, ‘Tell me your story.’ If you tell me what happened, I will find your problem for you.”

It took a moment to formulate an answer. “You think, for some reason, that I don’t know what my problem is?”

“No, I don’t,” he answered flatly. “You can get angry and leave if you want – But, you’ve already paid with your beer.” He shrugged to show he didn’t care one way or the other.

I ground my teeth. “You want it to start ‘Once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away’ maybe?”

The Guru frowned at me again. “Maybe I should start telling it for you. So you have a friend and she’s a girl. I assume that something has happened between the two of you, otherwise, you wouldn’t be here. Now, let me make another assumption; she’s obviously a very close friend, maybe more than just a friend, otherwise Tony here wouldn’t be so insistent she’s your girlfriend.”

I didn’t say anything, just gave him a curt nod.

He gave me a smug grin. “Then let’s continue, shall we. You don’t think of her as your girlfriend, but it’s not the same with her, is it? Maybe she thinks of herself as your girlfriend? And that’s the problem right? She doesn’t understand why you’re not a couple, when you so obviously should be. So, something set her off; something that emphasized in her mind that you’re not dating? I could make some guesses; maybe you told her about some other girl you like, or maybe canceled on her one evening?” The Guru’s grin widened a bit. “Well? Would you like to tell me the rest of it?”

I stiffened a little, but kept my face as placid as I could. “Two weeks ago, I picked her up after work. We watched a movie back at the apartment and she fell asleep. I told her I probably should have just taken her home, if she was just going to pass out.” I gave him a thin smile. “She took offense to that.”

The Guru gave me a know-it-all smirk. “Just like I thought.”

“But she knows we’re not dating.”

“Sure she does.”

“She does!” I didn’t know why, but he was getting under my skin. “We’ve talked about it before. She knows I’m not looking for a relationship. She’s not looking for one either.”

“Sure, she isn’t.”

I reigned myself in. “She’s told me she isn’t.”

The Guru just looked at me and shook his head. “Tony, my friend, bring the beer over.”

“Uh, sure,” Tony said, a little surprised. He hastily brought the pint glass forward and, with a mild bow to the Guru, placed it on the table before scurrying back to where he had been standing.

The Guru took a healthy drink from the beer, savoring the taste, then deftly returned it to its place on the table beside him. “Can I ask you something?”

At first I thought he had meant Tony, then I realized he was looking at me. “You just did.”

He ignored my remark. “Is she attractive?”

That was not what I expected. “What?”

The Guru rolled his eyes. “Is she pretty? Is she sexy? Would you sleep with her?”

I glared at him, but I knew he couldn’t see anything through my sunglasses. “Yeah,” I admitted, finally.

“Then what is it? Emotional baggage? Past trauma? Mental illnesses?”

“She’s a schizo,” Tony pointed out from his spot to the side. “Well she is! Her co-workers told me.”

The Guru turned from him and looked back at me.

“She isn’t,” I answered. “They just say that. But she is an emotional basket-case. I don’t date her because I don’t feel like getting bitched out because I forgot the milk.”

“Whatever.”

“What do mean, ‘whatever?’”

The Guru shrugged. “I mean, that’s not a reason. If it mattered that much, you wouldn’t even be her friend. Look at yourself! If you were worried so much about her temper, you wouldn’t be trying to get on her good side again. But you are. So there’s a different reason that you don’t want her, isn’t there? A problem with her? Or maybe with you?”

I didn’t answer, just stood there, keeping my face as expressionless as possible. He smirked at me again. “Well, believe whatever you want. For whatever reason, you’re the one driving this wedge between the two of you. And until you get that taken care of and decided, you’re not going to solve anything.” He went silent, taking another drink from his beer.

“Wait a minute,” I said angrily. “That’s it?

The Guru looked at me, surprised I had spoken. “That’s what?”

“I mean, I bought you a drink, and all your advice is ‘you figure it out.’”

“You didn’t buy this drink, Tony did.” He laughed at my incredulous expression. “It’s his favorite kind. And no, my advice isn’t ‘figure it out.’ My advice is: ‘Be decisive.’ You have to be honest with yourself and follow what your emotions are truly telling you. Anything else, and you’re just going to find yourself alone, drinking beer, and wondering what the hell you just did. Now,” he smiled at me pleasantly, then nodded to a girl that was marching towards him, a cheesecake in hand, “I seem to have another customer. Be sure to come back with any questions.”

“Great,” I muttered, “just great. Hey, you’re lucky I didn’t pay for that beer! I’d be demanding a refund.” I turned and stalked out, a confused Tony walking out after me, followed by an annoyed Guido.

“Man,” Tony said, a little pale, “you can’t be talking to him like that. He knows everything, and-”

“Look, I have to make a call, okay? I should have been home an hour ago.”

“Uh, sure. Me and Guido’ll be out front… if you need us or anything.” A weak smile flickered on his face. “Hey, uh, I’ll see you around. And just do what he says; I promise you, it’ll work.”

I forced a smile on my face, just to re-assure him in the hopes he’d go away. “Yeah, don’t worry. I know exactly what to do.”

Tony looked at me a little uncertainly, then that stupid grin of his was plastered on his face. “See Shades? I told you he knew what he was talking about. I’ll be seein’ you.”

“Sure.” I waved good-bye as he walked off. I opened up my cell-phone, which was almost out of batteries, but dialed Holly’s number anyway. She didn’t answer, of course, but at least I got to her answering machine. “Uh, Holly. It’s me.” I stopped, uncertain of what to say. “Look, we need to talk. Give me a call, will you? I miss you.” It felt a little weird to admit that part, but maybe that’s what she wanted to hear. “Bye.”

I hung up and took a deep breath. All right then, I thought to myself. Nothing to do but wait. I slipped out the back and got in my car to drive home. For a moment, I considered dropping by an all night grocery and seeing if they had a few roses in stock, but then I decided against it.

If I didn’t hear from her by Sunday though, I might just do it.



I hate women.

I hadn’t seen Holly for almost two weeks. After I had dropped her off at home, after I had accidentally hurt her feelings, everything had changed. I hadn’t really noticed the first couple days. No calls, which was weird since she usually called at least every few days. When I started wondering about it and dropped by Baskin Robbins to check up on her after work, she had given me a cool smile and told me, simply, that if I wasn’t there to buy ice-cream I needed to “fuck the hell off.” My one attempt to call her ended with her picking up the phone and hanging it up before I could even get a word in.

I think I hate caller ID, too.

Tonight, I had gotten sick of it. And so I had dropped by right as her co-workers were locking the door. They told me that she hadn’t worked tonight. That she was avoiding some pompous ass-hole. And I could tell by the way they told me just who they figured that ass-hole was.

I fucking hate women.

And so I found myself at Café Yoko’s, alone, and nursing a warm beer. I looked across at the empty seat. It hurt more than I thought it would. But it was hardly doing me any good to sit here, brooding over it. I was just thinking of leaving when a voice interrupted my thoughts. “Let me guess,” she said. “Girl problem?”

I looked up. A reed-thin girl stood over me. The first thing I noticed was her eyes; they were a rich, oily black that seemed to see right through you. The second thing I noticed was that she had a smug grin on her face.

I scowled up at her. “Do I know you?”

“So I was right,” she said, then answered, “No, I don’t think you do.”

“Then what the hell do you want?”

“To help you, maybe?” She didn’t wait for an invitation, but took the empty seat across from me. I didn’t try to stop her; hell, I was getting used to this kind of thing.

“Maybe I don’t want help.”

“But I think you do,” she answered quickly. “You’ve been sitting here for nearly a half-hour.”

I ignored her, taking another drink from my beer. “So, what? You’ve been stalking me for a half-hour?”

She shook her head. “No, I was getting a drink. But you’re brooding rather noticeably. A girl, right?”

I don’t know why I didn’t just keep ignoring her. She probably would have left if I had. “Yes,” I said, just wishing she’d go away, “it’s a problem with a girl. Look how psychic you are! Now why don’t you go away!”

She seemed completely untouched by my sarcasm. “Right, and obviously you said something that hurt her. Nothing major, nothing that should have hurt her feelings, but something nonetheless.”

I ignored her. That was nothing that a gypsy fortune teller, looking at a guy drinking alone on a Friday night, couldn’t have guessed.

“But,” she continued, running right over my silence, “she’s not actually your girlfriend, is she? Seems like she’d want to be, but you’re pulling back for some reason.”

That actually stunned me for a second. I wasn’t certain where she had got that from, but I was relatively certain it wasn’t in the fortune-teller’s handbook. She didn’t say anything, but I could practically feel her eyes on me, waiting for my reaction. I took another drink of my beer, then looked up, keeping my face plain. “Who are you?”

She smiled and held out her hand. “Cassie.”

Like that tells me anything, I thought. “And what do you want?”

She looked slightly puzzled. “Like I said, to help you.” Then she smiled again. “I can tell you how to get back into her good graces, if you care to listen.”

I gave her a sarcastic grin. “You want the whole story, or do you want to tell it to me?”

She shook her head. “No, I think I already got most of it… Emotional, gets hurt easily, takes things the wrong way, right?”

“Yes,” I answered. Her and every other girl I’ve ever had to deal with.

Cassie’s eyes defocused. “So you’ve been fighting for a few weeks, right? She’s not taking your calls, and when you try to see her she blows you off?”

I forced a laugh, but it was still kind of creepy hearing her. “Yeah, I’ll give you that.”

She nodded knowingly again, oblivious to my tone of voice. I don’t think she actually heard vocal inflections, or if she did, she didn’t seem to care. “Well,” she said, after spending a few minutes contemplating the table, “your solution is simple enough, if you want to see her again. But you might want to decide, first, whether or not you want to see her again.”

I sat up a little straighter. “Excuse me?”

Cassie opened her eyes. Somehow, I had gotten the point across that I was angry. “Well, look at you two,” she answered defensively. “She really likes you, and she’s never not going to like you. But you’re not doing anything about it.” Her tone softened and she went back to her distant-mindedness from moments before. “If you keep spending time with her, this is just going to happen over and over again.”

I started to say something back, but then stopped myself. She might have a point. “So what do you suggest, oh mighty seer?”

She laughed. “I think, obviously, you should just bite the bullet and be her boyfriend. If you keep seeing her, it’s going to happen eventually anyways. You’re just going to hurt both of you more by avoiding it.”

“Sure I will…” I said, not even bothering to hide my sarcasm. Seriously, that was the biggest bullshit I’d heard in a year.

She scowled. “Fine. Don’t believe me, just like all the others. But mark my words, you will.”

“Whatever,” I said. “So what’s your suggestion for getting her back? Seducing her? Giving her an engagement ring?”

Cassie looked like she’d rather hit me than answer. But then she forced that smug grin back onto her face. “I’m only telling you this so maybe you’ll believe me next time: All I can tell you is, ‘Go home’.”

I looked at her skeptically. “Go home?”

“Yes,” she answered brightly. “Go home. She’ll come to you. Or she’ll be waiting for you.”

I gave her a long look, then took an even longer drink from my beer. This girl was cracked. “If you say so,” I said simply. “But if you’re expecting me to buy you a drink now, you’re out of your mind.”

“Oh, no,” she explained, “I’m working for free tonight. Really, I’m just kind of advertising. I’ll probably start working days in a week or so.”

Advertising… I wondered for a moment, then realized what she meant. “You mean you want to be another guru in the back?”

She nodded. “I figured I should talk to a few people tonight to get some practice and get my face known before I actually started charging food for my services. I’ll mostly be working days, so if you need me later, I’ll be in the back.” She looked past my shoulder. “Now if you’ll excuse me, that guy’s been sitting there for almost an hour. Looks like he just cheated on his girlfriend and is trying to figure out whether to admit it to her or not.” She got up and left, leaving the chair pushed out from the table.

I watched her go and then shook my head. Commercialized guruing, I thought to myself. Just what is this world coming to?