"Maybe one day I'll be somebody."
"Who says you aren't already?" Luiz asked.
I think about it. "I mean in the sense that I'll matter."
"I'm pretty sure you matter."
Typical Luiz. I resist the urge to punch his shoulder. Instead, I offer my shoulder as a pillow for his head. I like it when he rests his head on my shoulder.
Luiz laughs quietly. "You're not going to win this argument."
"Who says we're arguing?" Trees. A valley of trees flowing down Table Mountain like wild fire, some trying to rise above others while the rest are content at making up the army of green tops stressing the mountain's valleys and peaks, flowing into the Atlantic.
"Mark left me." The atmosphere shifts. There is now a cold patch on my shoulder where Luiz's head just was. I return his stare and wait for him to get over his initial reaction.
"You're joking, right?"
"Okay, I left him. What does it matter?"
This time, Luiz hits my shoulder, like only a best friend is allowed to do. I rub my shoulder. I scowl at him and won't be offering him a pillow for a while.
"What the hell happened, John? Mark loves you."
It doesn't escape either of us that Luiz confidently proclaims Mark's love for me, but not mine for him. Plenty of guys loved me over the years, it's not like that makes Mark special. Luiz doesn't mention my apathy toward Mark. Maybe it's implied.
Luiz leans back against my car's windshield and locks his fingers behind his head. "He was a good guy."
And there it is. Mark is already relegated to the past tense between us.
"What has that got to do with anything?"
Luiz sighs. He looks out at the same sea of fiery trees, probably seeing a different ocean of green than I do.
"I don't care that you're disappointed in me, you know."
Luiz laughs. It's humorless, and it pisses me off. But neither of us acknowledge the lie in my words.
Love might be a currency, but I don't trade in it. Do I love people? I'm pretty sure I love my parents. Aside from them, Luiz is the one person I'm fond of. I might even love him. I know he loves me. I know because he told me so when he was nineteen and I was twenty. I'd been going with a guy one year younger than Luiz at the time, a needy eighteen-year-old named William. William grated on me but he made up for it with zesty sex.
Luiz wrote me a long love letter that year. Like a seven-page script for a daytime soap drama long. Truth be told, I only read the first two paragraphs and skipped to the end. No one has that much time.
The gist of it was that he loved me, and that he was convinced he'd never find someone like me again. I was it for him, and would I leave the kid for him. The more I read, the less I liked Luiz. In fact, I wanted to punch his face. Why tell me that? I had enough people trying to get into my pants. Always had. It started when I started to develop muscles and hasn't ended yet. What I didn't have, aside from him, was someone who liked me for something other than my butt and dick.
I told Luiz this, too. Needless to say, William stayed around a while. By the time I dumped him, I'd been a real asshole to him. I'd only kept him around to annoy Luiz. Yet he still begged me to reconsider. Give us another chance.
Go figure.
That's the currency of my ass and dick right there. The only currency I trade in. Except with Luiz.
"You're going to grow old, lonely and alone."
I want to tell him I know that. Instead, I throw my ankle over the other one and stow my fear. "That doesn't sound so bad. I'm not worried."
Luiz turns to me. His eyes search mine, and I allow it. "You're not?" he asks.
I shake my head and hold his gaze. "You'll be there, making sure I'm okay. Lord knows I've been trying to shake you off since the seventh grade. Guess you're not going anywhere."
My words are severe. Anyone who doesn't know me would think I was serious. Anyone except Luiz.
I catch Luiz rolling his eyes. He always pretends like he's suffering me. "The sad thing is I know you're right."
"Damn right."
I keep Luiz in the corner of my eye. I'd like to study him like he studies me, but he's always studying me. And I'm always pretending like I don't notice. Or that I don't care. This leaves me with little time to memorize him like he spends hours doing with me. I don't mind that he drinks me in every time we're together. It's probably the closest we'll ever get to being intimate. People have been trying to be intimate with me since I hit puberty. Men. Women. Everyone wants to fuck me. Or be fucked by me. It's exhausting and annoying. Sometimes I wish I could give them my body for a half hour, minus my soul and mind. They could have sex with me while I go shopping or catch up on work. But it doesn't work that way, and while I enjoy sex, the thought of going with most of the people who want me grosses me out. Which just pisses me off, and makes me want them to stop gawking at me. Luiz gets to study me.
Would Luiz always be there?
Damn right he will.
*****
I drop Luiz off at his house, located on the better side of town. Not that I'm jealous. He still lives with his parents at twenty-eight years old and works for his father. He has his own space in a converted garage, but it's still his jail. I wave him off and wait till he's inside before driving off. I prefer my one-bedroom apartment in the low rent district of town which I pay for and work hard to afford. I suspect Luiz would prefer that too to his spacious, suffocating, semi-detached apartment.
I'm exhausted when I wake up the next morning. Work is a bitch, but I get through it. Sometimes I feel like I just work to afford hiking. Try as I might, I fail every time to prevent myself from following a rather destructive train of thought. I should have been more assertive when I had the chance and pursued some type of outdoor career where I could spend my days surrounded by the abundant nature of Cape Town. My parents had had my best interests at heart, they'd said. No real money in nature conservation, they'd told me. What life can a wildlife specialist build for himself? Truthfully, I'd pursued academia just to shut them up at the time.
