Page 12 of Sol
How no other guy I dated was likehim.
Whenever I heard from Degan, I thought of Trent. Those pictures they’d send? It looked cold in Afghanistan, with scrubby brush and snow on the ground, but Trent was always hot. His smile lit up grainy images. And the poses? Holy shit, they were scorching. Standing there on a hill, taking command. Shirtless, playing Frisbee. Arm in arm with Degan on their base, surrounded by bags ofsupplies.
Speaking of which, it had been a while since Degan had emailed me. Where was he? Was he coming with Trent? I was overdue on sending him an email. Used to traveling the world with patchy Wi-Fi, I only checked my messages sporadically. There was never anything but spam anyway. This new place had great connection, though, so I’d eventually get around to sorting through the 453 unread emails in myinbox.
Yay.
“I’m here,” she said. “Hit the buzzer to let me in. See you in afew.”
We hung up. I hit the button opening the street-leveldoor.
Then I heard a knock at thedoor.
I checked my state of undress. If it was Lulu, she’d seen me naked zillions of times, having been my roommate in college. If it was thetío de butano, the dude who came by a few times a week roaming the floors offering small cans of butane for sale for the hot water heater, well, he’d get an eyeful. Even though it was about the time he’d normally come, chances were good I’d be shocking my friend rather than the butaneguy.
Although, since he smoked while delivering highly flammable products, I doubted much shocked himanyway.
No peephole to see in advance. Time for my armor. I snatched the half-sized, threadbaretowel.
Fuckit.
I wrenched open the heavy wooden door with the towel wrapped around me and tucked under my armpit. An elegant African-American woman, wearing head-to-toe yellow from her stylish turban to her long skirt printed with orange and gold designs, eyed me with undisguiseddisgust.
“I’d hug you, but I can see way too much,” Lulu said. “And what I do see is way toowet.”
“It’s okay.” I spread my arms wide to squeeze her, but my towel fell off again. I smiled sheepishly and shrugged, my tiny nipples atattention.
We burst outlaughing.
“Crazy woman, put on your clothes. We need totalk.”
“We do,” Iagreed.
“Get dressed and let’s get somecafe con lechebefore you give your neighbors reason to stop paying for camgirls.”
* * *
“Youkissedhim.Don’t lie and tell me youdidn’t.”
Lulu rested her chin on the back of her hand, her elbow on the tall metal counter, warm eyes assessing me. Her words weren’t an accusation. More of a gentle, analytical question. She’d known me since we went to college together at U.C. Santa Cruz. In fact, she knew me best ofeveryone.
She was right, of course, but I didn’t want toanswer.
“Tell me, sugar. Did you sleep with him too?” she continued with an amusedsmile.
“What?No!”
I couldn’t decide whether to gasp, laugh, or be pissed that she could read me so well. So I settled on staring at her with the open-mouthed face of a guppy. Then I huffed and took a big, hasty sip of my espresso laced with hot milk, almost choking on it. After I’d swallowed, I shook my headvehemently.
I hadn’t slept with him, but that didn’t mean I didn’t wantto.
We were standing at the no-frills corner bar, eating breakfast. I’d been out of the United States for so long, I’d accepted bars as part of my daily life and forgotten that they had a different, seedier connotation back home. Here, it was just a place to meet that happened to have food and drink. Standing at a bar first thing in the morning? No bigdeal.
Running a finger along the rim of her small, white coffee cup, she raised an eyebrow and examined me hard. “You’re complaining as if you have something to hide. I think you liked him. Maybe stilldo.”
The linoleum floor, littered with thin, waxy napkins from previous diners, suddenly became way more interesting. My eyes stayed on the ground as I complained, “I thought I had a better poker face. At least I have clothes onnow.”
She chuckled. “This is true.” I didn’t look up, but I knew she was silently asking me to give up thegoods.
