Signal to Noise(72)

“It looks like something.”

“I’m overdosing on Nina Simone.”

“Your dad used to do that.”

Meche rubbed her eyes. She turned her head. Her mother was still standing in the living room, holding a cup, as though she were expecting to continue the conversation.

“Why didn’t you like him?”

“Who?”

“Sebastian. When we were kids, you were always all over his case. And don’t say you liked him. That’s a lie.”

Her mother smiled, setting her cup on the coffee table. She nodded.

“You loved him too much.”

Meche looked at her in surprise. She didn’t say anything, tucking her chin down and frowning.

“You love somebody that much, one day it all unravels and... it’s just bad. Here, I made tea.”

“Mom, you don’t have to keep making stuff for me all day long.”

“That’s what I’m supposed to do. I’m your mother.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Meche said, reaching for the cup and taking a little sip. “It has no sugar.”

“It won’t kill you to have a cup without sugar.”

“I like sugar. I should go back to dad’s apartment and finish with the boxes. I’m practically done.”

“Finish your tea.”

Her mother got up and moved towards the kitchen.

Meche stretched her legs and listened to the music. Nina Simone sang Where Can I Go Without You.





Mexico City, 1989





ISADORA CHEWED HER nails. It was a bad habit she could not kick. He thought it was cute. It made her flawed and consequently human.

“I think you chew your nails in class because you smoke. It’s a compensation mechanism.”

She offered him a drag, but he declined. She smiled a little.

“Have you been reading our biology textbook or something?”

“Something,” he said.

“Why is it that you don’t smoke but you agree to come here with me?” she asked.

“You asked.”

Three times. She had asked him three times that month and he had agreed. Normally he walked after school with Meche but he had made an exception for Isadora and walked her to the Pit instead. He didn’t know why she asked and he didn’t really want to know because most likely it was pity or sick amusement.

“Would you like to go to the movies with me tonight?” she asked.

“Sure. What time are you guys getting there?”

“I was thinking we might go alone.”

They had never been together without her friends. He wondered what could possibly inspire her to go out with him by herself as though... as though it were a date.

“Hey, Isa.”

Sebastian turned his head. Constantino, along with some of the other boys, was standing on the sidewalk, giving him a very ugly look.

“You coming with us or not?” Constantino asked.

“Gotta go,” Isadora said. “Meet me at seven?”

“That works.”

“Alright.”

“Isa, what the hell? Get your ass here!”

“Coming,” Isadora said, dropping the cigarette and stepping on it with the heel of her shoe.

She hurried off with them and Sebastian stood alone, in the middle of the empty lot, heart hammering in his chest.





ISADORA’S DRIVER DROPPED her off right on time in front of the movie theatre. Sebastian watched as she crossed the street, short purple skirt, matching purse and tall boots, looking so very beautiful. There was no reason why she should be hanging out with him. No reason at all. It was a mistake. Pretty girls never looked at him. Hell, no girls looked at him. He was swarthy, which was enough to put off most of his classmates who hungered for the paler boys. He was too tall and odd. When he spoke the words came out wrong.

He watched the movie and ate his popcorn and tried hard to have a good time, but something was off. When the movie was over and they were standing outside, waiting for Isadora’s cab to arrive, he dared to speak up.

“Why are you asking me to hang out with you?”

Isadora clutched her purse with both hands and looked down.

“Well, well. So you did go out after all.”

Constantino. Sebastian turned around. The boy was there with his buddies in tow, all five of them dressed exactly the same: sweaters tied around the shoulders, polo shirts, even the same haircut.

“Hi,” Isadora said. “I thought you weren’t in the mood for the movies.”

“I wasn’t. I just wanted to see if you’d be with him,” Constantino pointed a finger at Sebastian. “Why are you sniffing around my girlfriend? Do you have a death wish?”

“I’m not sniffing around anything,” Sebastian said. “Besides, she’s not your girlfriend.”

“Fuck you.”

Sebastian dodged Constantino’s punch and managed to land one of his own, right in the middle of the bastard’s face. Big mistake. This infuriated Constantino, who began yelling obscenities, telling his friends to get him, kick the crap out of him, teach him a lesson. Sebastian had heard that tune before. He did what any rational person would do in this situation—he ran.

He managed to sprint for several blocks before someone tackled him to the ground, flipped him around and punched him in the stomach, making Sebastian gag. Another punch, this one to the ribs. Then it was all kicks. Sebastian rolled, tried to find purchase on a wall and pull himself up, but he was summarily beaten with something—it might have been an empty beer bottle—and stumbled down again, next to a lamp post. He touched the back of his head. It felt damp and he was dizzy.