Those Days of Summer

07 - Happy birthday

When we finally reached Paola's house that evening, Marcel seemed unusually inaccessible, quiet. It's not that he was ignoring us, but he visibly distanced himself from both me and our host. At first I thought he was not in the mood to socialize. But as soon as we entered the backyard, he plunged into partying. The garden was full of people, flashing lights and loud music. Marcel quickly found himself a new company, completely tuning me and the girl out. I could understand his avoidance towards me. But why Paolina? Had she gotten into a quarrel with him. A lovers quarrel perhaps?

Not having much choice left, I decided to spend the night alone. It was Marcel who dragged me to the party in the first place, but it didn't seem he was the one to keep me company. I stopped by the bar to grab a drink, and sat at the terrace stairs, gazing at the crowd in the distance. One could say I was chilling out, but not a single part of my body felt relaxed that evening. Disappointment, anger and sorrow were stirring inside of me, forming a tight tangle of bitterness in my chest. I couldn't stop thinking about our exchange from the day before. I should have said something to keep him at our house. I should have done something to make him see I wanted his presence. If there was the slightest chance for us, I forfeited it for good.

I kept sipping Aperol, as if the drink could help me calm down. The ice cubes in my cup were pleasantly ringing against the glass, as my eyes kept following Marcel's silhouette. He was moving gracefully among other party animals on the dance floor. I couldn't help thinking he must have been flirting with the girls around him. The way he was dancing was so loose, so sensual. Or was it just me and my dirty imagination again?

Immensely focused on his body swaying to the rhythm, I almost missed Paolina climbing up the stairs. She took a seat by my side, stretching out her legs with a deep sigh.

"Evening," she welcomed me with a blank tone, placing a bottle of wine on the ground between us.

I looked at her skeptically, surprised our birthday girl was finding my company more appealing than having fun with others. She silently followed my footsteps, staring at the people. Was she also observing Marcel? Of course she was... We were equally sick with the guy.

"You want one?" She asked suddenly, taking out a pack of Marlboros from the pocket of her oversize jacket.

"I don't smoke," I grunted, irritated that she was trying to make contact with me.

"I doubt that."

She lighted a cigarette herself, gazing at me. Could it be that she had noticed me smoking on the terrace the other day? After a moment of hesitation I reached for the package she placed by the wine bottle.

"Now we're talking," she approved my move and gave me the fire.

"Why are you here?" I finally asked, looking at her petite silhouette sinking in a tight dress embroidered with golden sequins.

"I believe our nasty moods have a common cause."

I scowled at her. Did she get the brush from Marcel?

"Don't look at me like that," she sighed pretentiously. "I know you're into him too."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," I took a drag and continued to observe the crowd.

"We were running together this morning, you know?"

Were they? It was the first time he hadn't tried to wake me up for "a jog" since he appeared in our house. Have they spent the day together? Were they having fun when I was playing dirty in his sheets? How ironic...

"I tried, I really tried to..." She rubbed her temples, as if she was unable to come to terms with something. "He said he wasn't interested," she continued, and my mind made a sudden turn backwards. "Neither in me, nor in girls generally."