Brazilian Lounge

five.

Chapter five.

I was usually a confident guy.

When I wanted someone I usually always got them. I'd quite often casually pick a girl to hit on and get their number, but for the past few days I've been looking for excuses to not hookup with other women. I was crushing on Ms America, crushing so hard that I actually felt my inner schoolboy shine through.

With my pocketed T-shirt and brand new pair of Havaianas I was ecstatic that it was Sunday.

After Marcos helped me pack some goodies into a basket, I went to the park that we agreed on. It overlooked most of the city and the grass was as healthy as could be.

She hadn't arrived yet so I set the blanket down and sat on it, waiting for her.

An hour passed and I was still waiting for her. I didn't like being stood up. It was a horrible feeling, a sick feeling - to think that someone you were excited to see wasn't as excited to see you. She didn't even call me.

I waited another ten minutes before I decided to give her another ten minutes. I was still hopeful. Then I got a call from Marcos.

I sighed as I answered, "Marcos,"

"You sound disappointed?"

"She hasn't shown up yet,"

"Oh, fuck, man. Maybe something happened-"

"She could have called, Marcos,"

He didn't reply immediately, "True. I'm sorry. Just don' be mad, she'll probably call later."

"Mm. Why'd you call?"

"To find out how thing were goin', man. Fuck. Wanna go to the Lounge tonight?"

"Nah. I think I'll stay home,"

"Okay. Just don' wait for her any longer. Come home." I hung up.

I debated in my head whether or not to call her. I usually wouldn't, but I was curious. And hurt.

I stopped myself though. If she didn't want to call me to explain, there was obviously a reason.

***

I was behind my computer screen for most of the week, designing websites and ads for my assigned companies. She still hadn't called. My work was taking my mind off of her, but it wasn't enough. Marcos was barely in his own bed anymore, he was always spending nights at Mariana's place, and he was going to meet her parents the upcoming weekend. I was jealous.

I wouldn't even think about pursuing a relationship, but for some reason I had hope for Ms America. It was insane because I hadn't even known her for too long.

I needed more distractions, and that Thursday I received an invitation to a birthday party on the Saturday from a good friend. It was a neon-themed rave as she turned 23. It was going to be perfect. It was different from the Lounge, there'd be alcohol and, knowing Pia, she'd have invited all her model friends - majority of them being female.