"They way the old man looks at me– I fucking hate it."

I adjusted my hat around the curve of my forehead and ran my hand across the bottom of my nose while inhaling. Jan was sympathetic right away, because he wanted exactly what the Old Man was getting.

"Yeah, he's a creep, Mick, the guy's a total scum bag– he fucking, walks out on his kids, and now he expects the world to just give him everything? Everybody thinks the guy's a creep."

"I know", I said, "That's why he can't pay rent."

My shirt was still wet from the laundry, but it was gonna be hot outside: I'd dry off fast enough. I was digging around in my bag now, trying to see if my wallet was in there. It wasn't, so I looked around my room. Jan was sitting on my bed, staring at me.

"What." I said, but then I kept looking around the room, lifting up some papers and clothes to see if my wallet was underneath them, and Jan thought I was kidding. I wasn't kidding around though; Jan was really starting to bother me. I mean, sure I've got issues, I follow patterns, I'm messing up my life a bit– but that doesn't mean I'm gonna want to change because some guy in a fucking polo shirt or whatever is coming over and cooking dinner for me. The Old Man–Rio is his name–is a douchebag, true; a womanizer, maybe; a pedophile, whatever; but at least he's... The thing is, I just hate virgins. Jan's slept with a couple of girls, but as far as I'm concerned– I finally found my wallet lying under my night stand, so I grabbed it, and then I put on my bag dramatically, to say pretty clearly: hey, I'm in a huge rush, and then I turned the stereo off just as hurriedly-dramatically, and said, over my shoulder– over the strap of the bag on my shoulder:

"Let's go, I gotta run".

Jan looked at me in a way that said he knew I needed to be saved sometime really soon, and that he wanted me to know he knew it– though I'm pretty sure he didn't know that; he probably just thought that he thought that I looked really cute, and that he felt a little sad that I was ruining my life. Which means that, really, he was moping about how I didn't want to kill time with him all day like he wanted to do with me. Which made me think: why is every guy so much like a dog? I don't mean that in a dyke, man-hating kind of way; I just mean: guys act like dogs, and dogs are dumb and needy and stupid.

We're walking down the hallway now and I'm thinking about that, and about my hair and how great I look. I slip into my shoes and lean against the door while Jan ties his laces, then we go out into the hallway outside and I go down the stairs first and he follows me. It's 9 flights down, and I walk really fast because I always do. I push the door open and go out into the street, and it's fucking raining. Jan comes out after me.

"Fuck", I say, for no reason– or just to show him that we're still friends, and I'm sharing with him: sharing that I'm pissed off that it's raining. I hadn't noticed while we were inside my apartment because the music had been so loud and I'd been rushing. I start to walk fast towards the bus stop on the corner, and then Jan says:

"Don't go see that guy."

I think to myself: can I pretend I didn't hear that and get away with it? Maybe. "What?" I say.

"I don't want you to see that guy– Christ, Michelle, let's go to a movie. Okay?" I turn back and he's looking all optimistic: smiling, standing there in the rain–he's a man with a plan. It's pathetic, and I'm angry at him for showing me how pathetic he can be.

"Look", I say, "I'm gonna do what I want to do."

Jan's canine hope is crushed.

"This guy's a creep! He's a fucking creep!"

I can't believe it: Jan is freaking out. He's standing there in the rain, with his fists clenched and water dripping down his nose and onto the street by the side exit of my apartment building, in his awful basketball sneakers and his terrible polo shirt–that isn't even a polo shirt, I don't know what it is but I know he put it on because he's trying for me; he's trying to look hip for me, but he's the furthest thing from it–and that's okay, that's just Jan, but this is dumb. Maybe if I had a crush on the guy, I'd argue or something. But Jan is a fucking nerd, and I am getting soaked.

"Don't be upset.", I say, squaring my shoulders and refusing to step towards him, making it obvious that it is completely out of compassion and pity that I am standing there in the rain, in my already wet shirt, carrying a bag that has too much stuff in it for me to want it to get any heavier, talking to this guy. And I can tell that Jan's feeling bad for being crazy in front of me already– but it's just as unattractive as his outburst from a minute ago, and it makes me miss Rio.

"I'm gonna be late" I say, adjusting my bag. Jan stares at me, all crumpled up inside with his shame and his not knowing what to do, or how to fix things.

"I'm gonna be late" I say again, gently now, using my voice to tell him I forgive him; that I won't forget this, but it's okay. I jut out my chin. "Gonna walk me to the bus?", I ask. I have a great chin, real cute and defined– I learned that from looking at photos of me, and I've been playing it up ever since.

"Yeah", Jan says, with a kind of shrug-laugh. Oh great, good news, I think: the guy's going to act like that was all a joke. Real smooth: not.

I let him walk me to the bus stop, and then the bus comes right away, which is lucky. I get on and as it pulls away I feel like teasing him, so, while he watches me making my way to the back of the bus, I wave, all smiles. Jan stands there in the rain, smiling back at me, waving good bye. I sit down and start texting Rio about the rain and my wet shirt.