I follow her gaze and try to see what she sees, but I don’t think we’re looking at the same thing. The painting is depressing to me. “Then maybe us assholes would leave you alone? Is that it?”
She shrugs.
“Seems like you’d have a tough time getting a date.” I chuckle to try and lighten the mood, but by Alex’s grimace, clearly it was the wrong thing to say.
“I’m not having much luck now, am I?” She gazes at me, and when she doesn’t get a response, she sighs and gestures toward the woman. “Look at her smile. She’s happy.”
I squint, searching for happiness in the woman’s expression. Alex is telling the truth, she’s painted a slight smile on the woman, almost undetectable with her lip pulled upward at an awkward angle. Her eyes have depth and warmth as she stares off toward the darkness, and her hands are splayed at her sides. She’s standing on her toes with bare feet. I was wrong, it isn’t the wind blowing her hair and dress. She’s dancing.
“The greatest part about looking like this,” she waves her hand toward the woman, “is everyone you’ll ever meet will be genuine. If they’re shallow, you’ll know. If they have insecurities, you’ll know. People are much more willing to show their faults to those who they perceive as having more… Her life is real. If she falls in love, it will be the purest kind. There will be nothing superficial to taint it.”
Alex sighs and looks away from the woman, choosing to fidget with her utensils instead. I can’t look at the woman anymore either. I’m too focused on Alex.
She’s right. I’ve never thought of beauty as a bad thing, but it’s a lot like power. Everyone around you puts on their best show. They try to impress, never let their guard down, and they almost always have an ulterior motive.
“I think I understand how you feel,” I say.
She looks at me with an eyebrow raised. “Think highly of yourself, huh?” A small smile plays on her lips, and a weight lifts off my shoulders. I didn’t realize it was weighing me down, but without it I feel light. Like I would float away if someone handed me a balloon.
She waves a hand. “I’m kidding. You probably know exactly how I feel. Except, unlike with me, it works in your favor.”
I huff. “Really?”
She narrows her eyes. “Aren’t you like a god in your world? Sounds favorable to me.”
I’m quiet for a moment. “You’re probably right. Most of the time I like my life.” I nod to her painting. “I’m not spending my days painting depressing shit, at least.”
“No, you’re drinking yourself numb.”
My chest puffs, and adrenaline flows in my veins. Immediately, I’m defensive. It’s a reflex, one I push away for the sake of preventing another argument with Alex.
“Fair enough.” The words taste strange on my tongue. Sour. I’ve never admitted my drinking problem out loud, not in any way serious.
She deflates. She must’ve sensed the argument coming too.
It’s quiet for a minute, and then Alex breaks the silence.
“Why are you here, Settimo?”
I shift my foot and turn toward the window. I have a clear view of the road from this angle. This part of town is much less busy. There isn’t a soul in sight.
“I wanted to tell you something… about me.”
I turn to Alex, my hands in my pockets and my heart beating hard enough I think I feel my chest move.
She nods. “I’m listening.”
There’s a table in the back corner of the room and I walk to it. I’ve always been able to stand tall, even in the worst of circumstances, but I won’t chance it. Alex follows me, and we sit down.
I train my eyes on a row of cabinets.
“When I was sixteen, I got a girl pregnant.”
“Oh,” Alex says, cautiously. “So, you have a kid?”
“No.” I shake my head and turn to her. Her face is soft, and so are her eyes. She leans toward me slightly with her elbows resting on the table. She’s interested in what I have to say, and I can’t spot any judgement. What will she think of me when I’m through?
Several seconds pass, and Alex doesn’t take her eyes off me. “Is that all you want me to know?” she asks.