Signal to Noise(47)

“We should have some more,” Meche snapped her fingers. “Oh, Jimena gave me money to buy more ice. Wanna go with me?”

“Okay.”

“Race you to the store.”

Sebastian was ready to chase after Meche but then he saw Isadora and Constantino approaching. She was wearing a very nice red coat with large brass buttons. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was smiling at him.

“Hi,” she said. “I brought Constantino with me. I hope that’s okay.”

“That’s fine,” Sebastian said.

“Third floor?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re going to buy ice,” Meche said sharply.

“See you inside,” Sebastian added.

Meche and Sebastian walked briskly, hands in their pockets.

“You invited her to my cousin’s posada?” she asked.

“The whole neighbourhood is invited to your cousin’s posada.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t even ask.”

“Sorry.”

Meche shook her head, walking to the corner store and back in a regal silence which spoke volumes. Sebastian felt bad briefly, but once they reached the door of the apartment he was actually pissed at Meche for being so selfish. She made it worse by pulling away from him and going to stand next to Jimena, like he did not exist. Sebastian put the ice in the kitchen, mixed a couple of rum and Cokes, and went in search of Isadora.

She was sitting by herself, looking out the window and smoking a cigarette.

“Um... I didn’t know what you wanted, so I brought this,” he said, handing her the cup.

“Thanks,” she said, placing it on the window sill and smiling again. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“No problem. Where’s Constantino?”

“Somewhere,” Isadora said with a little huff. “I wanted to come alone but when he heard I was heading here he insisted on coming. Sorry about that. I didn’t want him here.”

“I thought you were friends,” Sebastian said.

“We are,” Isadora said, looking at her nails.

Isadora and Constantino had gone out for six months but broke up before the school year started. From what Sebastian understood, Constantino had dumped Isadora to go out with Miroslava, one of Isadora’s friends. Sebastian thought this was pretty stupid because Miroslava wasn’t half as pretty as Isadora.

“I think he’s just jealous that you invited me,” she said. “He’s silly like that.”

“He doesn’t have anything to be jealous about,” Sebastian paused. “Are you guys together again?”

“No,” Isadora said.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. I mean, who am I?”

“No, it’s okay,” she replied. “Everyone thinks Constantino is so great but he’s not that awesome.”

“I guess.”

“Sorry. I know he’s a bit of a dick with you.”

“I guess it’s a night for ‘sorries.’”

Isadora finished her cigarette and flicked the butt out the window, giving him a half-smile.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever spoken more than half a dozen words with you,” she said. “Why’s that?”

“We orbit around different suns, I suppose.”

It was the type of corny line that Meche would have rolled her eyes at—no sense in discussing suns, stars, moons and similes with her—but Isadora did not seem to mind.

“I kind of like that,” she said and the smile grew.

He decided, right then and there, to mail the golden heart on the chain to her and to hell with the consequences.





MECHE HAD BEEN surveying the room from Jimena’s side, studying the crowd and keeping an eye on Isadora and Sebastian. When the girl started giggling she’d had enough. Meche rolled her eyes and rolled herself into the kitchen, pouring herself an obscene amount of punch and drinking it in one long gulp. She poured herself another and walked out, holding her drink, and saw that Isadora and Sebastian were still talking.

“I think your boyfriend is making a pass at Isadora,” Constantino said.

He was by himself, eyes fixed on their beautiful classmate.

“He’s my buddy,” she said. “Not my boyfriend.”

“Honest mistake.”

“I think your girlfriend wants to make out with my buddy.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Honest mistake,” Meche replied as she finished her drink. “Thirsty?”

“Yep.”

“Let’s get you a refill.”

They went to the kitchen and Meche filled their cups. Constantino leaned against the refrigerator, drumming his fingers against its side. Meche sat on one of the kitchen counters, swinging her legs and thinking thoughts as deep and dark as black holes.

“Why did you dance with me the other night?” she asked him.

“What? Did I need a permit?”

“I’m curious.”

“I felt like I should.”

Meche chuckled. “You want to go out and see what they’re up to?”

“Yes.”

“You still have a thing for her?”