Page 47 of I'll Look for You, Everywhere
‘The one who hugged you over the crab legs.’ He narrows his eyes at me, as if he doesn’t believe I don’t remember.
‘Who is hugging Magdalen?’ Dante perks up at the drama. ‘Should I kill him?’
‘No, Dante,’ I rush out. ‘No killing.’ I blink, feeling like my conversation with Roberto happened two years ago. ‘Oh, Roberto, yeah,’ I nod, happy I even remembered his name at this point.
‘If that’s his name, then obviously him, Magdalen,’ Theo replies coolly.
My eyes flicker to his and he looks back impassively. I open my mouth to respond but Anika gasps.
‘Roberto was in there? Maggie! Why didn’t you tell me? You know I would have said hi!’
I shift on my feet. ‘Sorry, it was so brief, I must’ve forgot,’ I lie. Feeling selfish for enjoying my conversation with Roberto, not wanting Anika to overpower me... Am I a bitch? The thought rushes through me like a brain freeze. Am I the most selfish, cold-hearted bitch that I didn’t even know that my best friend’s dad was on coke and I was worried that her standing next to me would outshine me?
‘Well, does he, Maggie?’ Theo asks again, saying my name like it’s poison. He cocks his head to the side, awaiting my response, while his loafer scuffs against the pebbled flooring.
‘He, um, doesn’t get off until after the restaurant closes.’ Liar. As if you’d ever go back in there and invite him.
‘Shame,’ Theo sighs. ‘He looked like a fun guy.’
‘The most fun.’
‘More fun than me?’ Theo starts and then quickly looks to Dante. ‘Than us, I mean?’
Anika hoots loudly. ‘Brother dearest, our father just coked out at dinner and you talk less than a fucking pigeon. Of course Roberto is more fun.’
‘Yes, Anika!’ Dante jumps up excitedly. ‘Berate your brother. Ruin his confidence! Tell him he’s ugly next.’
‘Roberto is fun,’ I conclude, before Anika has time to come up with another insult.
‘We made plans for Thursday, so he won’t feel too bad about missing this,’ I add, careful not to look at Theo when I say it.
‘Just the two of you?’ Anika chimes in, her eyebrow rising so high that I count five forehead creases.
‘Yes, just the two of us. Going to L’Anguilla at nine, if you need to know,’ I say politely. I can feel Theo’s eyes boring into my face, setting my cheeks ablaze. So I keep my focus on Anika, pretending not to notice.
‘Okay, as much as I’d love to keep talking about my sister’s love life, can we get a move on?’ Dante starts walking in the direction of town.
Embarrassed and angry, I agree quietly. ‘Why yes, I believe we can. I’m ready to get drunk.’
Anika laughs and hooks her arm into mine. ‘What exactly did England do to you?’
26
THEO
A small clock hangs sadly on the mirrored wall of the bar. I watch the little hand move hurriedly around the numbers to avoid looking at myself in the reflection. It is already 1.30 in the morning, and the four of us are the only people left. Looking around the dimly lit space, I can see Dante hovering over the jukebox, the back of his head shaking as if in an argument with the machine. Anika and Magdalen play pool horribly, but their laughter is sweet against the hushed tunes of Elvis Costello. Dante must have pressed the wrong button. Anika tries to twirl the pool cue like a baton, but it hits the glittering chandelier above them, and they break out in another wave of girlish giggles.
How can Anika just move on from this? How can she separate herself from him so easily, like it wasn’t also her fucking father at dinner? Taking a final sip from my fifth drink, I crush the ice between my teeth. Images of my father’s flustered face feel less intense than they did after the first. Someone squeezes both my shoulders tightly, and I look over to see Dante’s wide grin.
‘Who wants some weed?’ His breath invades the small corner I’ve secluded myself in, wafting the deep smell of cigarettes and stale peanuts in my face.
I scoff, shrugging my shoulders so he stops touching me. It feels insensitive for him to bring up drugs when my father was so fucked up only a few hours ago. But then I think of all the times we’ve gotten high before and know I’m being irrational. It’s weed. Jesus.
I bite down on the ice again. Glancing back at the mirrored clock, I’m scared I won’t see who I think I am, hiding away in this bar just as he probably is in his home office. Weak. Predictable.
‘You in?’ He raises his eyebrows jokingly. My teeth grind into themselves, ice mixed with anger, and I desperately try to remain fun and familiar to Dante. Not wanting to slip.
‘No, bro, I think I’m gonna head home.’
