He ran his fingers through my hair. “You feeling okay?”

I nodded.

It was three months since the accident. I suffered a concussion. He suffered a destroyed scooter. The good news was that it was a very ugly scooter. Better news was, of course, that he wasn’t going to press charges. The best news was that my family never ended up getting wind of it. The absolute best news, however, was him inviting me out for drinks.

The domino tipped over.

One thing led to another.

“What about you?” I asked.

He opened his eyes. “Hm?”

“Are you feeling okay’”

He chuckled. “Funny. You never ask me that.”

“I don’t?”

“Naw.” He yawned. “And don’t.”

“Whuh?”

“Don’t take that the wrong way. You always take every little thing I point out about you and take it the wrong way. No, I don’t think it’s a big deal. No, it doesn’t mean you’re emotionless. No, it doesn’t mean you don’t care about me. It just means that I don’t give any causes for concern.”

I blinked. “But—Wait. So you’re saying I GIVE causes for concern?!”

He laughed. “Oh, yeah. You’re a total psycho.”

His smile was infectious. I simply had to hit it with a pillow. “You’re dead meat, kiddo! You’re gonna be sleeping with the pillows tonight, you hear?!”

“You always go for the death threats.” he pointed out.

I cleared my throat. “You’re—ah—gonna be fettuccini by the time I’m—ah—done with you, capisce?”

“Can’t believe I’m being threatened by Super Mario over here.”

“A wise guy, eh?” I hit him with the pillow again.

His phone rang.

“Yellow?” he answered, pushing my pillow away. “Oh. Glen. Yeah, listen, man – it’s late, can we—? Right. No, I’ll—Listen, just give me a bit longer, my book’s almost done, you’ll get your money, alright? Just give me—Right. Okay. Okay. Fine. Yeah.”

He hung up.

“Didn’t sound pleasant.” I pointed out.

“It wasn’t. Guy never is.” he sighed. “You get drunk and make a stupid bet, and—”

He fell silent.

“And?”

He got up, putting his pants back on. “I think I’m gonna go write a bit. Sorry. Deadline’s approaching and everything.”

“Oh. Um. Alright.”

“You think it’s safe for you to stay the night here?”

I bit my lip. “Probably not. I think they send a guy over to watch my place at night. There’s a whole. Thing going on right now. It’s fine. They just wanna make sure I’m safe.”

He stopped at the door. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” I forced a smile. “If anything, I’m the one who’s sorry. Even if I had everything sorted up here, it wouldn’t change who I am. Or who my family is.”

“Nothing changes that I care about you.”

I nodded. “I know.”

It took me a few minutes to start getting re-dressed myself.

All throughout, I kept thinking.

Glen.

Glen.

Glen.

I didn’t like that name at all, all of a sudden.

How was I to go about never hearing it again?