Equivalent Exchange

Rough draft, Nick Gallagher short stories, aprox. 1500 words

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There are certain things about myself that I’d like to change, despite what stupid uplifting people say about loving yourself. Of course you don’t love everything about yourself. And you shouldn’t! What, you think you’re perfect? How am I supposed to love my fallacies, my shortcomings, if they keep me from my goals? For so many times I’ve seen shows in which the guy goes “I love everything about you, even the bad stuff” and it’s so frustrating. Fuck outta here, you love her bipolar disorder? Of course you don’t, don’t you fucking stand there and lie to me. People make it out to be like it’s the worst thing you could do to a person, to not love them fully, in their entirety.

‘Excuse me sir, I meant for you to drive through that street.’ The lady in the back of my car told me.

‘Sorry! I’m not at the top of my game today.’

‘Don’t worry about it.’ She said, smiling to the rearview mirror.

People make it out like if you don’t love every single little thing about someone, it’s because you don’t love them at all. Like it’s one or the other…

Wait what was I thinking about?

Fallacies. Yeah, fallacies…

I’m a very proud man, I’ll admit that. This pride has brought nothing but trouble for me in the past 25 years that I’ve been alive. I blame my father for that. Not that he literally taught me to grow up into a proud person, but some of our parents’ traits rub off on us, and if you’re anything like me - indecisive, obsessive, emotionally constipated - you tend to only pay attention to the bad stuff. “I know best” was his catchphrase. Whenever anyone would ask him if he thought his choices were the right ones he’d say that. My mom would warn him about using too much salt on his food and he’d go “I know best”. I’ll bet you a month’s pay on how he’s gonna die as he is living: a stubborn arse.

‘Can I open this window?’

‘Of course! Be my guest. Would you like a water?’

‘Oh that would be wonderful, thanks!’

It’s very hard for me to function properly with pride as a hindrance as it is. It’s not often, but just enough frequent for me to feel like the stress in my life could be washed away if only I had it under control.

I know it’s hard for me to admit that I’m wrong, but it’s only ever after the damage is done that I realize that what an overly-adamant dick I can be. Because pride is a smart little bastard. It knows exactly how to warp your moral code, without you even realizing it. It’s one thing to have morals and principles; it’s another to be so hard-boiled that a simple discussion of ideas can blow so much out of proportion that the other person can’t stand to look at you properly for weeks. So I’m constantly cautious and checking if my morals are on par with the world. I’m not saying I force myself into accepting things that I feel are wrong, but I do force myself into being more accepting of people’s opinions, especially when they differ from mine.

I’ve lost a few relationships in recent years, and what’s worse is that I don’t know for sure if I lost them because they greatly offended my morals, or they greatly offended my pride. I’m not even sure if both those things aren’t meshed together. They take up so much room inside of me, it’s only likely.

‘It’s next to these stoplights, to your right.’

‘Sure thing.’

I don’t take offense lightly from the people I love. To whom I offer my unconditional loyalty, I expect nothing less than the exact same thing.

‘Thank you, have a nice night!’

‘Thanks, you too!’

I took out a cigarette, even though I don’t let anyone smoke in this car, and lit it. I took out my phone to check the time, and saw my heavy expression on the black mirror. It was 2:58am, and I had to make a different face because this had to be down now.

It had started to rain. I called her. She didn’t answer. I called her again without waiting a second. She didn’t answer. I texted her that I could see the light on her bedroom window. She called me. I answered.

‘Hey.’

‘What do you want, Daniel?’

‘I’m downstairs in my car. Come out and talk to me. You owe me that much.’

She hung up. When the light in her room went out I understood she was coming. She came in beside me and took off her wet wool beanie, infecting the car with her smell.

‘So?...’

‘So what?’ She asked.

‘We’ve been trying to fix things for a month, and all of a sudden you text me saying you can’t do this anymore?’

‘I’m sorry…’ She was extremely embarrassed. But she was not sorry at all.

‘You should be.’

‘Daniel I’m sorry I… I have to move on.’

I didn’t know what to say.

‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

‘Yes…’

‘Because I kind of feel like I’ve been the only one trying here…’

‘Then you’re a better man than I a woman.’ I know I’m good man, but that doesn’t make me feel any better about myself.

‘Okay… Take care I guess…’ She didn’t take the hint.

‘Listen, I just want to make sure--’

‘Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t try and get out of this like that. You said what you wanted to say, and I needed to hear you say it and not read it on a phone. It’s fine. Just go. I gotta work.’

She was trying not to cry, sitting there, pouting like a child who’d just been told off. I know I was harsh, but I was speaking the truth. She went out into the rain and inside her building. I smoked another cigarette and felt my expression get heavier and heavier. I didn’t expect this to be this fast, although I did see this coming from far away.

My phone buzzed. The app popped up and I had to pick someone up downtown. Off I went, but it didn’t feel like I was driving. The buzzing of the roads felt different, dumbed down. I couldn’t hear the rain properly.

It wasn’t me driving. I was not there. I was somewhere else, but not on this road.

Man up. Man the fuck up, grow a pair. You gotta work. Fuck her. Fuck this entire situation. You’re on the clock, you have to work.

Do the shitty thing first, feel shitty later. You’ll have all the time in the world to sulk once your shift is done. But right now, you have to work.

I hit my head on the steering wheel three times, and not one second later, someone came in the passenger seat. My head immediately went into auto-pilot.

‘Hi, are you Nick?’

‘Yes, I am.’ He said, in a weird accent, while coming inside.

‘Do you want me to speak English?’

‘Could you? I’m trying to learn Spanish but you guys speak so fast!’ He said, more comfortably, smiling widely.

‘No problem. Where to?’

‘You can just drop me off near the Mar Bella beach.’

‘Sure thing…’

I turned on the radio to smooth out the silence. I was sure he could feel the negative vibe I was setting off.

‘I’m sorry to ask, but, how did you get this job?’

‘Well, I really just sent my resumé to the company…’

‘And do you like it?’ What the fuck…

‘Why are you asking me that?’ I asked, a bit angry.

‘I was just thinking of applying myself…’ Shit… shouldn’t’ve been this irritable.

‘Oh it’s not that great a job… I’m just doing it whenever I have any spare time.’

‘I get it.’

‘No offense but… I don’t think you do.’ It had started to rain more. My face became saddened, I could feel it in every nerve.

‘Believe me, I do! I worked at a shitty job myself for almost two years! Until last month that is.’

‘Oh.’

‘You gotta pay the bills, right?’

‘Yeah… I guess…’

‘Anything good demands sacrifice.’ This last one he said offhandedly, looking out the window into the rainy road, almost smiling.

I relaxed, and became only slightly relieved. Happy, even, that there were more people out there going through the same as me. Not happy that it was happening to them but… happy that I wasn’t alone on this road. That I wasn’t the only person sacrificing their present for their future. That I wasn’t the only person who didn’t have the luxury to feel shitty whenever they wanted, and instead had to suck it up, in order for their goals to be achieved. Some sort of validation appeared, one which I never knew I needed.

As I was driving with this man in my head I thought to myself that maybe, just maybe, some relationships have to die for a person to truly change. That half the reason I lost my woman was because of my ego.

Maybe she’s the sacrifice. Even if such was forced onto me. Just as some people become colder when a romance goes sour, maybe it can work the other way around. Maybe it’s gonna take losing my woman for me to realize it’s time to let go of this useless pride.

Maybe I’m full of crap… Maybe this guy is full of crap and he says these things to himself in order to sleep better at night. I don’t know… If it’s the latter, can you really blame him? At least he sleeps. Can’t remember the last time I slept…  

Maybe his musings on my window were as random as they were precise.

Maybe there’s a lesson to be learned here. Maybe there isn’t.

Outside Lisbon Inside

Escrevi isto para um concurso com um limite de 2500 caracteres.

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In my senior year of high school I was placed in a class with a very friendly muslim boy named Alim. His father suffered a heart attack and died too young, a few months into the school year, and I, a very Jewish-looking, very atheist person, was as close to Alim as he was close to his own religion - we were acquainted, but a bond lacked. Nevertheless, the class came together to do something nice for our grieving friend, and when they decided we should go to a mosque to pray with him, I felt compelled to be a part of that experience.

See, although this old country has been taking steps towards a multicultural future, there’s still a faint unwelcoming energy, of sorts, in certain parts of its older cities. Even though it influences one’s thoughts, I always tried not to pay attention to such negativity. I’d had contact with people from all corners of the world, but, unfortunately and inadvertently, the feelings of wonder and interest they so kindly offered me were just as temporary as they were in my life. The longing for something lasting was always playing like background music in my mind.

I was nervous, I’ll be honest. Not because I didn’t want to help my classmate, but because I was anxious to go somewhere that seemed like it would teleport me to another part of the world. But I had to go. My parents always fostered a deep sense of respect in me, so I shod my big boy boots and stepped inside the mosque.

Trying not to let the lack of stained glass and catholic imagery phase us, we removed our shoes, our hats, our preconceived ideas of that place, any sliver of prejudice or ill-mannered behavior our western-religious upbringing might have left behind, positioned ourselves somewhere in between the crowd, and let Alim guide us through what we would do.

It was only when I was looking at everyone else, silent and barefoot, that I was able to shed my anxiety and realize this wasn’t about me. It was about us grieving the death of our friend’s father, in hopes that somehow, his grief would be eased by sharing it with us. The sense of union was almost palpable, like wind in my face atop a steep hill. It was so much easier to just let the peace envelop me, than to armor myself with a cautiousness that was only perceived as necessary, and wasn’t useful at all.

There was a lot of darkness up in the air during the following days, but it wasn’t that heavy anymore. The background music in my mind was now louder, dissipating the negative energy. A shimmer in the dark.

It won't do you any good

Outra short story da colectânea do Nick Gallagher. Cerca de 3700 palavras. Capaz de ter erros. Título sujeito a mudança.

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Kate and I had been friends for a little over than a year, right after we started working together, and I already considered her to be one of my best friends. It was her 29th birthday today and I was about to join her and a couple of other friends for a dinner party. Nothing fancy, just a small get-together. Thing is, I wasn’t in a party mood because Sara had asked for a time off from our relationship. She said she needed time to “work on herself”, whatever the fuck that means. The timing struck me as odd, since we were about to celebrate our first anniversary. I tried changing her mind, to no avail, so I let her be. Instead, I decided to try and live my life normally by coming to Kate’s party.

I managed to walk up the building’s stairs and knock on her door. She greeted me happily and ushered me into the open living room while excusing herself into the kitchen. She and her boyfriend David had been renting this apartment for a few months. He was there in the living room along with another couple, whom I also befriended recently, André, and another girl whose name was like Kate’s, but pronounced “Catarina”. They were really nice people, and Catarina said I could call her Cat.

Before I could sit on the couch, André was already greeting me with a hug and offering me a joint, which I politely declined. Never was into those things. I sat down, greeted everyone and grabbed a glass and some wine from the coffee table.

‘So what’s new?’ Cat asked me, as Kate’s cat rubbed itself on my ankles.

‘Nothin’ much… Same old, same old… How’s your new job?’

She had started working with Sara at a fancy restaurant downtown. I shouldn’t have asked that, but this kind of small talk was pure instinct.

‘Great! It’s been swell, everyone was so welcoming and I hardly forget an order anymore. Which reminds me…’

‘What is it?’

‘Well, Kate kind of invited Sara out of courtesy, and she said she’d drop by… Are you ok with it?’

‘Sure!’ Liar. ‘Why wouldn’t I be? Does she know I’m here?’

‘Yeah. And, to be honest, I think that’s partly the reason why she accepted the invitation.’

‘It’s fine! I’m fine!’ Not one of those two things were fine, far from it, but what else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just tell Kate to call Sara and tell her not to come!

‘Hey, man… I can tell her not to come if you really want me to.’ Kate said, walking into the room with two bowls of mixed appetizers and putting them on the coffee table.

‘It’s nice of you to offer, but seriously, it’s okay.’ I said, in my most sincere look.

I was too emotionally constipated to pour any of my feelings out of me without exploding. So I sat down and drank my wine at a normal pace, while the lasagnas were in the oven.

About ten minutes passed until we heard a knock on the door. Sara came in, as gorgeous as ever, her dark hair braided around her head, her curvy figure tucked in a nice black dress, her smile made even brighter with the purple lipstick… André elbowed me and it was only when I looked at him grinning that I realized I was also smiling widely.

Sara greeted everyone else before she gave me a strong hug. Then she dropped her purse on the couch, grabbed my hand and made our way to the balcony, through the glass door next to the TV. It was a rather hot evening and the full moon was shining her delicate face. She looked concerned all of a sudden.

‘What’s wrong love?’ I asked, turning her left eye a little watery.

‘We gotta talk baby…’ She told me.

‘About what?’ My heart jumped for a second.

‘About us.’

‘Ok… go ahead.’ She took a moment before speaking.

‘I need to break up.’

Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck. I swallowed, feeling sick all of a sudden. My hands trembled slightly and I sighed, one hand on my hip, the other on my head. I looked around landing my gave on her.

‘What brought this along?’

‘I cheated on you.’

For a split second I thought I was going to punch the glass door. Instead I was able to control myself enough to slam my fist on the railing.

‘How the fuck did that happen?!’ I yelled, not caring about the prying eyes coming from the living room.

‘You have to understand, Sam, it didn’t mean absolutely anything!’

‘That doesn’t answer my question, now does it?’

‘Ok, ok, um… I went to this bar after work yesterday, to unwind, and there was this guy and then… well he talked me up, a few minutes later I kissed him—‘

I had to hold up a hand for her to stop while suppressing a burp with the other, because I was about to barf. My mind was spinning and I felt I couldn’t focus on anything without feeling dizzy. My chest was burning.

I walked into the living room, ignoring everyone’s questions, and made my way to the front door. Kate was coming out of the kitchen and stopped when she saw me. I held up both my index fingers, for some reason.

‘I have to leave… Happy birthday. I might be back. I don’t know. Sorry.’

Turning back, I pointed at the front door and off I went, not sure where I was headed off to. I stopped myself a few meters from Kate’s building. I wanted to scream, but I didn’t have enough air in my lungs that could sustain the length which I needed to get all this shit out. It wouldn’t ease this pain or this rage in any way. Maybe if I spontaneously exploded it would do the trick. It was a kind of rage that could only be ripped out, taken away through destructive force, but I had to restrain myself from using it, because everything around me that was bashable were cars and trash cans and store windows. The owners of these things had nothing to do with what I was feeling.

My phone kept buzzing in my pocket, and I kept shaking my fists and breathing deeply wondering if I should go back inside or not. Without paying much attention to it, I noticed a car pulling up near the sidewalk. A man came out of it, smoking a cigarette, very intrigued with me.

‘“Konnichiwa!”’

‘...What?’

‘It’s how you greet in Japanese.’

‘The fuck you want?’

‘Woah there, mate! No need to snap at me! Why you so upset?’ He looked around, then at the building, then back at me. ‘Were you at Kate’s?’

And as her face came into mind, I remembered her telling me that a foreign friend of hers would drop by as well. She always had had a knack for finding people who weren’t from around here.

‘Yeah, I was… You’re a friend of hers, right?’

‘Yes! I’m Nicolau-- sorry, Nick!’ He held out his hand and I shook it. He seemed pleased with something.

‘Sure…’

‘So what’s got you down?’

‘Fuck do you care?’

‘Calm your tits, man! No need to be aggressive…’ I breathed a deep breath, because I understood he was right.

‘I’m sorry… Go ahead on up, I’ll be right in.’ I lied. I think he saw through that, but decided to head for the door anyway, like a regular stranger. However, something stopped him from ringing her bell and he spoke.

‘I’m out of tobacco, and I really don’t feel like bumming all night. Care to join me?’ And as he finished, he walked to his car. He stopped after opening his door and looked at me as if I was offending him by standing still. To this day, I haven’t the slightest idea why I got into his car.

A smile appeared across his face as soon as he saw me move and hurriedly turned on the ignition in a childish manner. We started driving, listening to some random station playing these jazzy tunes that weren’t quite as chaotic as I’d pictured them. I found them soothing even. My mind felt calmer as I cocked my head out the window and felt the humid spring breeze hitting my face.

‘I didn’t catch your name back there.’ My driver said, as he lit up what I assumed was his last cigarette.

‘Samuel.’

‘Nice to meet you!’

‘Likewise…’

The music started to shift into some kind of melancholic song. Only when I felt a freezing trickle on my face did I realize I let out a few tears.

‘What are you thinking about?’ I looked at my driver, not trying to hide my pestered look. ‘Notice how I didn’t ask what got you so upset!’ And again his pleased smile came into light.

‘I’m thinking about how I feel every cell in my body bursting with energy.’ He chuckled.

‘It’s funny. I never heard those words put together in such a negative way.’

‘Well, you must be swimming in glee quite often.’

‘Oh, not a chance. I like to accept the things I can’t change, though. Makes life a whole lot easier.’ I felt something snap in me.

‘How?!’ My driver looked at me like my dog looks at me when I scold him.

‘How what?’

‘How can someone accept things they can’t change?!’

‘Well, I guess it’s the only option… Either that, or it eats you up… Don’t you agree?’

I crossed my arms, looked down at my feet, and felt so small I wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear. I felt like if I put my mind into it I could.

‘Fucking hell dude… I did everything right, you know? Everything! I moved here because of her, I got my act together, her mother died and I never left her side…’

‘That sucks man…’

‘No, Nick, this is mind-shattering, is what it is! I’m reviewing everything in my head at lightning speed, and I cannot, for the life of me, understand where it started to go downhill!’ My fists were clenched tight, because I was restraining myself from hitting something. I didn’t even feel like crying anymore. I was insanely pissed off, by this point.

‘Man, look…’ He was fishing for words, not entirely certain that he would find the right ones. ‘I used to work at this pub, and sometimes this really shitty customer would walk in, thinking he owns the place, he was a regular there and everything… and even though I always did everything right, he would still give me hell! Every time! Do you know why that happened?’

‘Why?’ I didn’t feel like guessing.

‘Because even though you can do everything right, when it involves someone else, it’s out of your control.’

As soon as he said this, it was like I found the missing piece to the puzzle. “It was out of my control.” At some point in time, this is exactly what happened. There was no way to change what I couldn’t. And that made me so furious I wanted to scream again.

‘And what, you just put up with it?’ He took his time to answer me, shame crashing down on his frown and a jokester grin took shape.

‘Well I did spit on his soup once. Didn’t do me any good though. Nothing changed.’ I managed to laugh a bit. Didn’t think it was possible, at least not then.

‘I’m not even one for rage, you know?’ I mused, looking out the starry sky, feeling the cutting breeze as my driver speeded. ‘Never was that type of guy…’

‘You’ve never felt angry?’ He asked, taking an angry drag out of his cigarette, probably reminiscing about the soup guy.

‘Not much, no… At least never like this.’ I was thinking about how I wanted to feel calmer, how I wanted everything to be at peace, but apparently he could read minds.

‘You know how the King of Peace died?’

‘How?’

‘He killed himself.’ I looked at him flabbergasted. He took his eyes off the road to take in my expression and choked on his laughter. ‘I’m sorry! That’s just something my mother used to tell me.’

‘Why would a mother teach that to her child?’ I asked that out of spite, and immediately thought of apologizing. He decided to answer me before I could do so.

‘I think that was her way of talking about my father’s suicide. She wasn’t a very warm person…’

He dictated grimness into the car, as an old friend. From the moment I met him I never noticed the slight effort he put into his expressions. A window into his soul opened up, for a fraction of a second. My gaze was uninvited, but, nevertheless, I felt lucky to have witnessed it. I started to wonder how many people were as lucky as that. He took me on this trip, not solely for my sake. I’m not so sure he wanted to go up to Kate’s apartment. I’m not so sure he even needs tobacco.

‘Didn’t mean to bum you out.’ He said, apologetically, never looking at me directly.

‘You didn’t.’ I said, realizing that I was much calmer.

We reached a gas station off the highway, and I realized we were far from where we were supposed to be. There were loads of other gas stations we could’ve gone to, but if he’s anything like me, which I’ve come to realize that he is, in these short minutes, he liked to drive a lot.

Far away as we were, when I looked at Nick going up to the cashier, I noticed we were near an old neighborhood I knew, once upon a time. I went to middle school, three streets down. I also have some particularly bad memories two streets down. And just like that, rage managed to make its way back into my bloodstream.

‘Crap. Did I leave you alone for too long?’ He asked me, as he pumped gas into the car, with an unlit cigarette in his mouth.

‘I was just thinking about something.’

‘About what?’

‘Why are you so curious? About everything?’ He sat down in his seat and looked ahead, his smirk disappearing.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, it’s fine! It’s just like… why? Why pick me up like a stray dog? Why all these questions? Why bring me here?’ Initially, I didn’t know where this was coming from. But as soon as I stopped talking I noticed I felt like being as blunt as him. If I had been more emotionally sober I wouldn’t’ve been that blunt.

‘I just care, okay? Is that so wrong? Caring?’

‘No, it’s not…’

‘Excuse me for not being made of iron.’ He turned on the car and started to exit the gas station, while trying to light his cigarette.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s just who I am, y’know? I can’t help it. Last few times I cared about someone it went terrible. Maybe I should stop.’ I didn’t know he could be easily deconstructed with so few words. That wasn’t my intention in the slightest. I felt like an apology wasn’t enough.

‘I’m gonna tell you something, and I need you not to make fun of me.’ I pleaded, hoping that venting this out would ease this rage.

‘Shoot.’

‘I grew up poor. Not shit-poor, but like, we couldn’t have certain luxuries, like cable, and comics, and ice cream. This one time, in the 5th grade, this girl in my class was being picked up by her father, and he brought these wicked lollipops for everyone in her class. You know, those ones that painted your tongue?’

‘Yeah, I know those ones.’

‘Right, so, I asked for an extra one for my sister, because I’d feel bad if I showed up home without one for her. He kindly gave me one. But then, as I was walking home, this fucking kid two years older than me just takes one from my hand and starts to carelessly walk home sucking on it! I started to cry because I really wanted it back, and I followed him home pleading.’ I was actually making an effort not to cry, mainly because of how stupid it was that this affected me so much that I would still remember this in my late-twenties.

‘What a shitty kid…’

‘I know! And he even pretended he was gonna give it back just to mess with me! I got home and I handed mine to my sister, lying and telling her I had already finished mine on the way back.’

‘Fuck…’

‘And I felt so fucking small and useless that I told myself I’d beat the crap out of him someday.’ I almost asked him for a cigarette. Almost.

‘Where does he live?’

‘You take a left here, then another one, and it’s at the end of that street.’ He swiftly took the first left.

‘Do you know if he still lives there?’

‘No clue, what are you doing?’

‘Well, it’s my understanding that you need to punch something, bad. So why not his face?’

‘You can’t be serious…’

‘Do I look like I’m joking?’ He certainly didn’t look like he was.

He came to a full stop, and I automatically got out of the car. I walked up to the kid’s door, who wouldn’t be a kid now, but someone in his thirties. After all that had happened that night, I was seriously considering going up the stairs and beating him up. Maybe this way I could exorcise this wrath. Maybe I could deal with Sara after I did something like this.

Recalling such events made me wonder how I would feel afterwards. Instead of living in the moment, and making decisions in a heartbeat, I started to make a plan for the next few days. What would actually happen after I went back to Kate’s, instead of what I wished so bad that would. So I took a step back from the puzzle I’d been trying to piece since Nick picked me up, now complete, and simply walked away from it. And it was a particularly ugly puzzle. It showed a picture that I’d lost fondness for in the past hour. Tainted with Sara’s betrayal. I felt sick just thinking of it.

There was nothing I could do to change it. Just like there isn’t anything I can do to change the fact that a lollipop was stolen from me when I was a kid. It was out of my control.

I turned back and sat in the car.

‘It won’t do me any good, will it?’

‘Spitting on that guy’s soup didn’t change nothin’ for me.’ He sounded pleased. ‘I mean, it’s understandable to be pissed off at your inability to change certain things… but trying to rewrite the past is just pointless.’

‘I’m not trying to rewrite the past!’ I argued, lacking confidence in my speech. ‘I just… I don’t know what to do with this pain…’

‘Let it shape you.’ I looked at him in bewilderment, almost offended. ‘What? You’re not made of iron either! This is gonna shape you; don’t fight it. It won’t do you any good. It’s not gonna go anywhere, so you mind as well decide what to do with it.’’ He started to drive away through the increasingly cold and empty streets. ‘Pain is useful. Anger is just poison.’

‘Shouldn’t I let it out then, if it’s so poisonous?’

‘You think what you were about to do was letting go of your anger?’ Now he looked at me like I offended him.

‘Then why didn’t you stop me? Why didn’t you just hold me down in my place, since you care so much?’

He wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was looking at the road ahead, or the other cars we crossed, or anything in front of him. I don’t know what he was looking at, but it wasn’t here.

‘That’s not how you teach someone a lesson.’

We drove back in silence, random songs keeping us company all the way. My stomach growled and I realized I had inadvertently skipped dinner. Nick suggested we stopped by a McDonald’s that was nearby, and we ordered three burgers each. I always eat more than usual when I’m bummed, so it was logical that I wondered if he was bummed as well.

‘Thanks, by the way.’ I said, while we sat in his car in the parking lot.

‘For what?’

‘For taking me with you, I guess.’ He smiled so broadly, cheddar cheese fell out of his mouth. He then laughed at himself.

‘No sweat!’

I’m pretty sure the lessons he gave me tonight were ones he was still trying to learn himself. Going off into the night to strange places with strange people was his way of finding what he was looking for.

We drove back to Kate’s, soon afterwards. Sara had left, excusing herself only minutes after I left. I didn’t care. I was so tired I couldn’t find the strength in me to have an opinion on that matter, so I shrugged it off and sat down with my friends. When David asked me where I knew Nick from, I merely told him that we helped each other out a lot, which I was sure was true.