When David walked me home after our dinner date the rain was pouring down. And with pouring I mean that it seemed as if the sea was falling from the sky. As if the world was turned upside down. I felt like such a drama queen. Once I figured out that I was feeling miserable over the John thing, I only seemed to think about stuff that fit perfectly with my incoherent vision of life at this moment. The sea in the sky, seriously?
It did seem like it though, in my defense. David had offered to let me wear his jacket, but I kindly refused since the guy was obviously already head over heels, and I didn’t want to be known –or feel- as the bitch who gave the kid a heartbreak and a cold.
“This is me.” I said, pointing at John’s building. “I know.” David said smiling. Of course, he delivered our pizzas. David let me go in first and we climbed the stairs together. I felt awkward when we reached the door of John’s apartment. I put my hand on the doorknob. “Let me guess,” David said. I looked at him. “This isn’t going to work out?” I blushed and searched for the right words inside my head. “You know, David, it’s not you… I…” I didn’t know what to say. “Hey, don’t you worry, David, it’s not your fault, it’s mine! And if that isn’t cliché enough, I’m also in love with a superstar who is already dating someone and is way out of my league.” I hesitated a minute and considered actually saying it. I kept my mouth shut. Instead, David started talking again. “Who is he?” he asked. “Eh?” was the first thing that I could come up with. If the guy still liked me five minutes ago, he was probably doubting my IQ by now. I tried again: “What do you mean?” He smiled sadly at me. Why did he had to have those puppy eyes? I felt more terrible with every second passing. “You’re clearly somewhere else with your thoughts. And I don’t want to sound arrogant, but I don’t think I was that boring tonight. So, I guess you’re thinking about someone else.” I had to give him more credit. He was obviously not a stereotype pizza delivery guy. I sighed and then nodded. “It’s my roommate.” I said. David frowned. “That John guy who is dating that Emma girl?” I nodded again. “Jeps, I do a great job picking out guys.” David chuckled. “You can’t choose who you fall in love with.” he said wisely. I didn’t know how to respond, so we both kept silent for a moment. “I should probably go.” David said, smiling at me. I smiled back and gave him a firm hug. “I’m sorry.” I said as we held each other tight. “You really are a great guy, and honestly, I wish I could feel these things for you instead of John.” He nodded and gave me a kiss on my cheek. “Don’t worry about it, you’re a great girl.” He let go of me and turned around. “If you want to talk about anything, you can always call me, okay?” He said. I nodded and smiled at him for one last time. I watched him walk away until I couldn’t see him anymore, and then got into the apartment.
It was dark, and no one was home. I sighed. I didn’t want to be alone, on one side, and on the other, I didn’t want any company. I walked to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of white wine. If I’d drink more than I did the last days, I would probably become an alcoholic, I thought to myself. I took a sip anyway, putting the idea aside. I put the bottle and my glass on the coffee table in the living room and wanted to sit down. Then I changed my mind. I walked through the hall of John’s apartment but didn’t pay any attention to my or his room. I reached the very end of the hall and pushed softly against the last door. It opened with ease and I smiled to myself when I thought about how easy it would be to steal John’s lyrics and music sheets. I walked into his “work place”. It couldn’t be described as a studio, and neither as an office. There were far too many guitars in there to be an office. I ignored all of them and walked straight to his desk. I opened his top drawer and found exactly what I was looking for: a pack of Marlboro cigarettes. I took two out of the pack and closed it carefully. Then I took the expensive looking lighter and closed the drawer. I took the cigarettes and lighter back to the living room and took John’s fake decorative ashtray from a shelf next to the television set. It wasn’t a fake ashtray, it was fake as in: not decorative at all. I knew he used it from time to time, even though he claimed he didn’t smoke anymore. Well, there was one thing he should learn: you can hide the cigarettes and lighter, but never the smell. I sat down and put the ashtray also on the coffee table. I sat back while I lit one of the cigarettes. I inhaled one time and enjoyed every second of it. It was three years since I stopped smoking and I totally owed that to John.
