By Sin We Fall

Chapter Eighteen

After sitting contemplatively for some time, I finally reached my important conclusion, "Amo, I like this one!" Amo was over by the other sectional sofas being schmoozed by the sales guy who I was still discerning if his slight tilt of a British accent was real or a I'm better than you complexion. "I like this one Amo!" I said louder so he could hear me. Neither of them were paying attention to me. I got up to walk over to them, sipping my smoothie that I had bought on the way here. The salesman stopped mid sentence to stare at my smoothie in my hand, probably itching to kick me out of this fancy store but still trying to discern my relation with Amo. Which was a common prophecy because I too was doing the same. I guess we had a lot in common, he had a fake accent and I had a fake identity. "I found a much better sofa over there. It's made of organic cotton and linen and hand spun in Argentina, much better than leather." Amo kneeled down like he was at a geological sight in Egypt, inspecting the sofa. "What is the structure made of?" "Walnut, one of our best!" "It perhaps will look too art deco with the finish of the side tables. I don't pay additional taxes just to pretend I live in Brooklyn.'' Honestly, I was surprised Amo even paid taxes. After a minute he turned to the salesman and spoke his opinion resolutely. He pointed to the end table, "I'll take two of those and make sure they come in the dark wash or else I don't want them. As for the sofa, if it comes from Argentina I'll buy it." I came to the conclusion this man was definitely a perfectionist. "Of course! I agree with you completely on that, that's a very fine decision!" Hummed the sales guy, pleased as a bee for all the money Amo was spending in this place. I guess wine wasn't the only thing he spent thousands of dollars on. I rolled my eyes at the love affair between these two. I was enjoying myself all the least. I had come to the conclusion that this was the most relaxing place in New York City. For once I couldn't hear the construction and traffic outside. There was a water feature in the corner of the showroom, soft instrumental music floated from the speakers and the sofas felt like fluffy clouds. Then there was me, in my so delicately called homeless apparel. I found another cloud like sofa and sat down to finish my smoothie as the two talked. I was still processing last night's conversation with Nevio. I had called him at three in the morning when I got back to my room, my paranoia at its peak. "Are you safe?" "What?" his voice was drowsy from sleep. "Are you safe there? Is everyone ok?" "Oh yeah, everythings cool. Are you scared?" No! I was trying to save him and now he was thinking of me as a wuss. "Are you having the nightmares again?" "No." That was a lie but we needed to focus. "Nevio, you have to be careful, there are people wanting to kill you!" I whispered yelled on the bathroom floor. I didn't want Simone to hear me. Nevio yawned at the other end. "Oh, I forgot to tell you we finally made the-" "Nevio this is serious!" "Greta, if you're scared you can always come home. I think that would be the best thing to do." Arghhh! How could I ever explain that I was ironically the safest person in this situation. "I'm scared you'll get hurt, Nevio. I need you to be cautious and be careful." Two foreign words to Nevio's brain. "You don't think I can keep myself safe?" he asked, self righteous. I let out an exasperated sigh, this wasn't getting anywhere. Nevio was always sensitive about people undermining him. I always tried to stay clear of the subject. Amo sat down next to me as the sales guy went off to register all the orders. "That's exciting, you're finally moving in." "It's not exciting, it's very demanding on my schedule." He frowned and then looked over at me, "How is your day going?" he sounded weird when he said it. We never talked like this but it made me feel warm inside. "Awful." I had to laugh about it now. It was weird I wasn't more affected by it honestly. Usually my worst fear was someone's disapproval of me, surprisingly I brushed it off. "We had a new sub teacher and she told me I was off point all morning and she didn't give me any advice to fix it." "Everything about you is on point." "That's because I'm good at hiding things. Ballet is all about hiding, hiding the wires and the ties, hiding the pain till you look like you're a floating princess," I snorted a bit. "Tell me one thing about you that isn't on point." "That would be a secret and a secret is in need of company. I'll tell you one but I'll remember this," I smiled evilly, I knew he was going to like this one. "I have a tattoo." The shocked reaction I got was great, I grew tired of his serious mask he always carried around . He looked skeptical though, "where?" "On my ankle. I got it when I was fourteen." I smiled bigger, knowing I was shattering whatever domesticated illusion he had of me and my upbringing. Or he just thought everyone from Las Vegas was crazy. "My brother got a tattoo around that time and I was in such a fit about it that I was determined to get one too. So he gave me one." "You never cease to confuse me." "Thank you." After sitting for a second he asked, "can I see it?" "You don't believe me?" I took off my leg warmers and rolled up my leggings, I then put my foot on top of the expensive coffee table and showed it to him, smiling the whole time. It was ugly, there was no denying that, some people thought it was a scar sometimes located on my ankle. I kept changing my mind the whole time Nevio was doing it. Thank god it was small. It had white ink to contrast Nevio's black one. It wasn't one of those minimalist Pinterest tattoos. It was shaky and unevenly blotchy, not even a fully forming heart. But I loved it. I surprisingly didn't remember the pain, I was so high on excitement and nervous that we would be caught. "My brother put it there so I would think of him every time I tied my ballet shoes. It was kind of that time when I was scared to go back on stage. He said as long as I had it I was safe and that he would beat up Beatrice if she pulled any more shit." I gave a sad laugh to that. I forgot how sweet that was. "But my dad found out a year later and he was furious, we lied and said it just happened." "You two are close?" I didn't want to say we were twins, still that part felt so guarded. "Yeah, we're close. I mean we're always fighting when we are together but being so far apart, I can't help but miss him." "I feel the same way about my family." The salesman came over with something for Amo to sign. I looked over at Amo, another sadness washing over, that's why we never can be together. I would never ask Amo to leave his family and I wouldn't leave mine, so there was nowhere left to go. I shouldn't have brought up the tattoo, it only made us closer.