AVIS IN BETWEEN (Lesbian)

Part 4 AVIS DATES HER NEIGHBOUR

I walked into a local fast food restaurant. My friends and I used to come there. In the very corner was our favorite table just next to a lovely flea market coat rack and some soft armchairs and a couch with faded herringbone pattern. It was just in front of the counter so that Tania could make eyes at a hot barista with a hipster beard and an ebony tunnel earring; Anna would inevitably lament about just another boyfriend; I could clearly see other guys giggling over someone's dank memes or recently uploaded pictures. Now everything is hushed and dusky.

That hour I felt I went to a liminal space. I've read about them: the places where you can feel uncomfortable when one alone or during the night, like playgrounds or lecture rooms. The restaurant met the requirements. Random tired people were scattered around. Stuff members paced with sluggish evening energy. If it were not for some customers and a slow motion waitress, I would think I was in the mirror again: Avis through the Looking-Glass. I started kind of liking someone else's name.

I texted Max the exact address and plopped myself into a chair. I craned my neck sideways to find a regular crowd but saw only a bunch of strangers who were talking softly and their voices blurred together in one strange lulling whisper. Against the dark background of an evening street a pale, chiseled face was gazing back at me like a ghost in the window. I was shocked how bony and thin my face was. All features reflected in a glass darkly looked exaggerated like in a painting of a modernist artist: neck was too long, chin was too pointed, eyes were too big. Dark eyebrows created a strange contrast with my light skin complexion like in Vrubel's "the Swan Princess".

I ordered some mixed salad and French fries not to starve my body to death. Still I could barely eat and was munching fries with no appetite, making barricades and bridges out of the cucumber circles.

I wanted to get my mind off while waiting for my friend. Reading a book in my phone, I caught myself doing it without understanding. I could read one paragraph several times, but accidentally I would stick at one word that reminded me something, go deeper in my thoughts, perk up, and had to start again. The process was not satisfying; it was like reading for boring seminars or drilling some tedious rules.

"Hey, girl," Max was standing next to me. He came faster than I expected. I hoped he didn't play a street racer on the road.

Wishing the dim light would conceal my treacherous blush, I stood up to greet him. Max looked different today. Oftentimes he wore ball caps, hoodies, vintage T-shirts, and ripped jeans. But a boy from the block disappeared. My next door friend looked like a top manager who happened to drop in a cheap food court.

"Have you been preparing for a job interview, young man?" I asked laughing. "I'm so happy to see you!"

He said nothing but hugged me tightly. We never did it before. His body was so close and that was surprisingly exciting. I tried to remember when anybody had hugged me recently, but couldn't. It felt like the first time; everything seemed anew and thrilling. I didn't know I needed him so much or maybe it was because of the extraordinary circumstances. We were the same height, and I could feel his ear against my cheek and his hands touching my back. In his arms I had a false sense of security. Reluctantly, I halted the hug. Max looked into my face: his eyes were glowing; his chest was falling and rising. I turned away in confusion.

We sat together side by side on a couch, close enough to touch with our knees. I liked our childishly naive intimacy. I told him my story one more time, clutching in my hands a bag strap. Не listened to me without interrupting, though he had already known it.

"As it happens, I had a friend here, in this city. I talked to him while driving to you and gave him all details of your delicate situation. But don't worry; he's a cop and a very good one."