Signal to Noise(38)

“Good luck,” Meche said, dismissively because—as far as she was concerned—Isadora mattered squat.

Daniela bobbed her head up and down and smiled. “What do we do now?” she asked.

“Hang out.”

“Do you want to dance?”

Meche considered her high heels, the possibility of slipping and falling on her ass. She shook her head. Nope.

Daniela looked a little crestfallen. Meche did not have time to baby her, so she simply sipped her beer and tried to strike a pose, ready to chat with Constantino when he happened to walk by.





SEBASTIAN FOUND ISADORA in the kitchen. She was trying to drag a large box towards the table.

“Hey, let me help you,” he said, cheerfully grabbing the box and hauling it onto the table.

“Thanks,” she said.

“No problem.”

Sebastian opened the box and found more beer bottles inside. He smiled.

“You must be making Tecate rich.”

“Well, it’s Saturday.”

“That it is,” he said.

Sebastian wiped his hands against his jacket and nodded. He had nothing else to say and felt his mouth clamming shut.

The heart necklace, he thought. I should give it to her.

“Well, you came,” she said, plucking a bottle. “Bye.”

Sebastian was going to say something witty, but he couldn’t string the right words together. Isadora turned around and walked away, leaving him by himself.

He looked down at the floor, furious with himself. He felt the little necklace tucked in his jacket and knew he was a coward and a fool.

Sebastian grabbed a bottle and drank it quick.





CONSTANTINO WAS STILL chatting with his friends, apparently glued to his spot. Meche had been standing very straight but after a while she began to tire and sat on a chair next to Daniela.

He had to walk by eventually. Unless he was planning on peeing in the bushes.

Meche leaned forward, resting her chin against her knuckles.

She had pictured it all before coming to the party: he’d walk by, notice her beautiful outfit, her improved appearance, and immediately start talking with her. She did not expect to be sitting in the same spot after one hour with no Constantino, exactly like the loser she’d always been.





DANIELA TRIED TO be a good sport. She tried to chat with Meche. But she was so stiff, so unpleasant. She gave up and decided enough was enough. Daniela placed her little pink purse on the chair she had been sitting on and headed towards the centre of the room.

“Where are you going?” Meche asked.

“I’m going to dance.”

“By yourself?”

“If I have to.”

Meche opened her mouth, probably to protest, but Daniela did not want to hear it. She had come for the party and she was not going to go unless she had one good dance. At first she danced by herself, but eventually a couple of classmates joined her and the three of them began joining in with the song’s chorus.





MECHE LOOKED AT the clock. Nine thirty. An hour and a half and Constantino had not even moved close to her. It was impossible for her to approach him, not when he was shielded by all his friends. When he finally did move, he was intercepted by Isadora.

Meche watched them as they spoke. Isadora seemed upset. She was shaking her head and making little motions with her hands.

Sebastian plopped himself next to her, in the chair Daniela had been occupying, long limbs spreading carelessly.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she muttered.

He nodded, lifted his beer and before it touched his lips, he frowned.

“Is that Daniela over there?”

“Yeah.”

“Dancing.”

“Yeah.”

“Ha! Good for her.”

The swirl of bodies—more people kept arriving—made it difficult to see if Constantino was still at his place by the window. Had he moved? Had he gone somewhere else? Was he still talking to Isadora? Meche began to panic.

“Do you want to dance?”

“My shoes hurt.”

“You could take them off.”

“I’m not taking them off.”

Sebastian took a swig. He offered her his bottle. Meche had not touched her own beer. It was still sitting beneath her chair. She shoved his hand back and the beer spilled all over her new pants.

Meche shot up, horrified.

“You ruined them!”

Sebastian stood up too.

“I’ll get a napkin,” he said.

Meche did not reply. She rushed towards the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She grabbed a towel and tried to clean the pants; the stain was bad. It looked like she had peed herself. Her lips, under the glare of the light bulbs, looked a horrid crimson. Meche hurled the towel into the sink.

She leaned against the door, feeling the beat of the happy music outside, and winced.

Meche slid out, crossing her arms and walking across the room, evading Sebastian and sneaking outside, into Isadora’s walled garden. She stepped away until the ridiculous pop music was nothing but a faint whisper behind her.

Meche closed her eyes and took off her shoes, just like Sebastian had suggested, holding them in her left hand and staring up at the moon.