Signal to Noise(48)

He did not admit it, but didn’t need to and she got why he’d danced with her at the party—to piss Isadora off.

“Don’t let me hold you back,” she said, jumping off the counter.

They moved towards the living room. Constantino flew to Isadora like an arrow, installing himself by her side. Meche watched as Sebastian pulled away, slowly drifting from them as Constantino wrapped an arm around the girl, beginning what looked like a very animated conversation.

Sebastian looked in Meche’s direction. Their eyes locked together.

Meche felt a bitter knot in her stomach. It was not the product of the cheap alcohol in the punch; Jimena’s apartment was too crowded, the noise too much. Beneath the buzz of the conversations played Total Eclipse of the Heart. She could not make out the words, barely could hear the music, just felt the beat. She wanted pain and loneliness and everyone to stop talking and Sebastian and no one, all at the same time. Meche grabbed her jacket and headed downstairs.

She did not expect Sebastian to follow her, but he did.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked.

“I’m getting more ice,” she said and hoped he’d leave it at that.

“I’ll help you.”

“No!”

“I’ll get my jacket.”

“I said no!”

She rushed down the steps and hurried out into the street. When she heard him behind her she ran. She rushed towards her home, turned a corner and bumped into a mound of garbage, tripped over something and fell.

She felt the glass cutting her hand and looked down to see she had sliced her palm with a dirty beer bottle. Meche groaned.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked.

He looked concerned. His anxiety irritated her. Meche stood up, wiping her hand against her jeans and nodding.

“I’m drunk,” she announced. “That’s all.”

“You shouldn’t be walking by yourself like this.”

“Shouldn’t you be back at the posada? You’ve left your guest all alone.”

“Fuck that, I’m taking you home.”

“I have two legs and can walk it.”

“I’m not letting you go without me.”

Meche was going to tell him to f*ck himself but then a wave of nausea hit her and she turned around, vomiting all over the sidewalk. The bitter taste in her mouth seemed like a fine coda for the night and she promised herself she would wish for a different life come morning.

“Here, it’s alright,” he said.

Sebastian brushed the hair out from her face and offered her a tissue. Meche dabbed it against her mouth and smiled.

“You’re so thoughtful,” she said. “I f*cking hate that.”

“I hate you too, Meche.”

Meche laughed. Sebastian joined in. He curled his fingers around her shoulder.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you home.”

“What about your motorcycle?”

“I’ll pick it up tomorrow. Right now we are going to walk back to your place, where I’ll give you a big glass of water and tuck you in.”

“And will you sing Ne me quitte pas to me?” she asked, the words slurred together.

She liked that song. She liked how Jacques sang it and the line about beads of rain from faraway countries.

“What?”

“Jacques Brel. You don’t know anything.”

“Not about music.”

She looked down, at his sneakers with all the inked drawings and words.





RELEASED FROM THE chains of school, winter break holding its arms wide open, Daniela and Meche dedicated their days to watching TV together and—in a smaller measure—Christmas shopping. This was the third record store they had hit that morning. Daniela was starting to get tired and she still did not know what Meche was trying to accomplish.

“I found it,” Daniela said. “Procol Harum, right?”

“Right,” Meche said.

Meche grabbed the record, touched it carefully and dismissed it.

“No. It’s not right,” Meche said, shaking her head.

“What’s wrong with it? It’s the record you wanted.”

“Yes. But it needs to be very powerful.”

“It feels warm.”

“Warm. Not hot. I know there’s a copy of that record somewhere and it’s searing hot.”

“What do you plan to do with it when you find it?”

“A love spell.”

“Really?” Daniela asked, eyes wide. “Who do you want to fall in love with you?”

“Same guy I’ve always wanted. Constantino.”

“I heard he was getting cozy with Isadora at Jimena’s posada.”

“Funny, I thought Sebastian was getting cozy with Isadora. It must have been after we left.”

“Sebastian and Isadora? Really?”

“Tell me about it. It’s mildly disgusting.”

“Why?”

“Obviously she’s just teasing him.”

“You don’t think she likes him?”

Meche looked at Daniela with a really? expression. Daniela put the record back.

They drifted around the store and Daniela pulled out one of Luis Miguel’s records, smiling at the blond, attractive young man. She ran her fingers over his photograph.