Chasing Shadows (30 page)

I sigh. "Feels like a lifetime ago."

"Thanks." Schuyler says.

I laugh and rub his back. "You know what I
meant." Just now, behind Schuyler, I see a shimmer. Well, so much
for not seeming crazy. I watch as the shimmer becomes a pearly gray
shadow which slides over and rests on my upper arm. Well Hello, I
think at it. I bite my lip and almost make an 'ah' of pleasure, as
its soft chill settles in through my jacket and shirt. I tingle as
it slithers around my appendage. Why does this feel so good? With a
sharp inhale I turn my attention back to the group.

Schuyler, Francis and Carol are discussing
something potentially funny, but their words are far away. Sergio
is looking out the window, but Ralph, Ralph is looking right at me.
After a beat his gaze moves to my arm and then back to my face.
What is that look? I step over to him as the El jostles us
about.

"What do you see?" I whisper.

Ralph meets my eyes, turns pale and steps away
from me. Well... That was rude. I lean on one of the vertical poles
and think about it. See? See why I’m bad in social settings? The
shade slithers under my clothes and I feel it wrapping its cool,
foggy, self around my stomach. I put my hand where it rests. I love
how it feels. It’s like Jell-O and water balloons, extremely
comforting for reasons I can’t articulate. Slowly, I realize that
Schuyler is staring at me. There’s a question in his eyes, so I
smile at him. I look over the others. They’re engaged in a lively
conversation about something that requires Sergio to use big hand
gestures. Ralph has his back to me. I wonder what he saw. Did he
see you? I think at the shade. It ripples across my abdomen. Is he
afraid of you? I’m cooing at it mentally. Schuyler reaches over and
grabs my hand, pulling me back to the group. I guess I have to try
and be social. Good luck self.

The rest of the ride is a haze for me. I laugh
when Schuyler laughs, and no one looks at me funny so I suppose it
goes okay. Ralph seems to be sweating, and he won’t make eye
contact with me. For some reason this makes me feel powerful. Guess
it’s my mean streak. We exit at Thorndale and begin the long walk
down residential streets to my place. Its weird going around to the
front door. I’m not sure if I should let them ring the buzzer, or
just key us in. When we get to my front stoop, Sergio looks at me
expectantly, so I open the door for us and lead the way to the
third floor landing. There are only two doors. I point at the one
that’s not mine. Music is pouring through it into the tiny green
hallway. Francis steps up to knock. I look at Schuyler, but he’s
eyeing my door. This makes me smile. The shade tickles me as it
moves up to park right between my boobs. I inhale
deeply.

A big dark headed man answers the door. His
eyes are wide. “I didn’t hear the buzzer." He says over the
music.

Sergio smiles. “We brought your neighbor.” He
gestures to me.

I stick out my hand. “Meegan, nice to meet
you.”

“Hi. I’m John.”

Schuyler shakes his hand next. “Schuyler.” he
says.

“Nice to meet you. Come on in.” The big guy
steps back and I get my first look at his apartment. It takes a sec
to register because I have to look around gaggles of people. Holy
cow! It’s a lot bigger than mine. Real estate envy overtakes me for
a moment, as I check out his meandering spread. We enter in a
living room that’s painted blue. The only thing on the wall is a
huge iron clock. There’s a giant flat screen, two couches and a
love seat. Beyond, I see an office and past that a white kitchen.
“Bathroom’s off the office.” John says. “Drinks are in the kitchen.
You can put your coats on the bed.” He leads us right to a huge
bedroom with a king sized bed.

“Damn.” I say. “Your place is like three times
the size of mine.”

He nods. “So’s the rent I’d
imagine.”

I nod back, my envy ebbing in the face of
practicality. “Yeah probably.”

Schuyler puts his hand on my back while
everybody’s dumping their coats. “You keeping you’re jacket
on?”

I shrug. “I thought I’d drop my stuff at my
place since we’re right here.” I look up at John. “I’m going to set
my stuff in my apartment. I’ll be right back.”

He looks at me. “Can I see it?”

“My place?”

He nods.

“After a few drinks maybe. It’s kind of a
mess.”

John shrugs and smiles at me. “I’m glad you
came. I was wondering if I was ever going to meet you.”

I grin sheepishly. “Yeah. It’s nice to put a
face with the series of noises.”

He laughs. “So what were you up to
tonight?”

My eyebrows rise. “Nothing.”

“Okay.” He laughs again and walks
away.

That was weird. I grab Schuyler’s hand and pull
him back to the door. We exit into the hall and I dig out my keys.
I open the front door I never use and flip on the light to the
foyer. “Let’s just dump our stuff. I’ll show you my place after
we’ve had a few.”

Schuyler smiles. “Okay.” All said, it’s less
than a two minute stop off before we rejoin the partiers. Back in
John’s place we bee line for the kitchen, where it seems a liquor
store has coughed up its contents onto his counters. Every surface
is littered with bottles and ice and plastic cups.

Sergio nudges me. “Need me to make a Heineken
run?”

I smile. “Nah. With all these options I’m sure
I can work something out.”

He grins. “I’ll have John turn up the heat for
you.”

“Whatever. If I feel like stripping down I’m
sure I can make it the three feet to my own place
first.”

“Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say,
we hope not.” and with that Sergio turns and is lost in the throngs
of trendy looking people. I’m kind of glad I got changed at
Schuyler’s because the clothes Lupa bought me are quite a bit newer
and more nicely cut than my own. I’m wearing a long sleeved blue
V-neck t-shirt where the V tries to introduce you to my breasts,
and I’ve got on another pair of those nice-ass jeans in a dark
wash.

Schuyler turns to me. “What should I get
you?”

I grin. “Something sweet.”

He scans the counters. “Peach Schnapps and
cream soda.”

“Awesome.” As I’m watching him weave through
the strangers, I feel a set of hands slide along my waist easing
under my shirt. I jump and turn. “Qasim!”

He smiles down at me and I am lost in the
beautiful contrast of super white teeth against caramel skin. He’s
got his hair tied back and I’ve never seen it this way. Makes his
cheeks look angular and inviting. I reach my right hand up and cup
his face in my palm. His smile melts into something even better.
This is so nice. Qasim leans down and our lips lock. His are salty
and slippery. I slide my hand behind his neck. The noises of the
party fade and blend into a happy cacophony. His breath on my face
is soothing. I feel his hands grab onto my lower back and pull me
closer. God this is sweet. A dark shape looms near and blocks the
light. I feel a tap on my shoulder. Reluctantly I pull back from
Qasim to look. It’s Schuyler. He has my drink. There’s a smile on
his face that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey.” He says. “I’m Schuyler.” I reach out and
get my drink.

“Qasim.” Qasim extends his hand. “Nice to meet
you.” He’s grinning from ear to ear.

“I’ve heard nothing about you.” Schuyler says
with forced joviality.

Qasim nods. “Same here. She’s not the best
sharer of information.” His hand reaches down to my ass. It irks me
to be talked about, so I open my mouth to speak but what do I say?
See? This is why I didn’t want them to meet.

“So, Francis said you work early tomorrow. What
do you do?” Schuyler asks, still going for polite.

“Chemical engineer at Milltech. I just came
from work actually.” Qasim spreads his arm a little referring to
his clothes. He’s got on another white button down and khakis. They
make him look skinny and otherworldly.

Schuyler nods. “That’s my dad’s company.” He
smiles.

Qasim’s eyes open wide. “Schuyler Mills.” He
looks at me. “You didn’t tell me you knew the Mills.”

I blink. “I don’t ‘know the Mills’. I know
Schuyler.”

Schuyler grins. “Don’t worry. I’m the crazy
brother, nothing to do with the company.” His self depreciation
triggers something, and without thinking about it, I reach out and
take his arm. Qasim goes rigid beside me. I eye him. He’s looking
at my hand on Schuyler’s arm. Well fuck. So I open my throat and
knock back my drink. If it’s strong I can’t tell because it’s so
sweet. I finish it in one effort. There, that’ll help. When I’m
done, I take a big breath and let out a burp that I think is
amazing. Now they’re both looking at me. I giggle.

“I’m getting another drink. Qasim, you chill.
Schuyler’s my friend. He’s not going anywhere. Schuyler you also
chill, just because.” I turn my back on both of them and search the
counter for the peach schnapps. It’s taking me a while. There are
so many bottles. Ah, fuck it. I grab some whiskey and dump about an
inch worth into my cup. Now I need Coke. I scan the counter...
Sprite? Okay. So I dump some Sprite in. I taste it. “Uck.” Gotta
fix that, so I pick up another bottle, peppermint liquor... Shit,
can’t be worse. I fill the cup to the rim and stir with my finger.
I take a sip, still ghastly but now it’s refreshingly ghastly. I
drink a bit more. I turn to look for my tall friends. They’re on
the other side of the kitchen laughing about something. It’s
disconcerting but preferable to the pissing contest that I thought
was starting. I take another swig. It’s starting to taste like tea.
The gray shade from before slinks down and twines itself around my
thigh.

“I’d forgotten you dude.” I whisper. I need a
cigarette. Where is John’s porch? I begin a leisurely stroll
through the apartment to find John. I hear a deep booming laugh
from the living room. I follow it, bobbing and weaving through an
office full of people. I bump some guy. “Excuse me, sir.” I
chirp.

He turns and smiles. “Hi.” He’s shorter than
me, but he has a nice face, an Irish face. I take another gulp of
my tea.

“Hi. I’m Meegan.” I’ve never been with a short
dude. Maybe I should just tell both tall dudes to date each other
and try a leprechaun on for size. I giggle. Flash: naked Qasim up
against naked Schuyler... I get a chill.

“I’m Kelly.” The short guy says.

“No way!” I gasp. “
I
could be Kelly! Hey
is there a porch here, Kelly? Because I need a smoke.”

The short guy with the nice face smiles. “Sure,
sweetie, back this way.” He puts his hand on my back and guides me
towards the kitchen.

“Cool.” When we get to the kitchen, Qasim is
still there but Schuyler is gone. “Hey, honey.” I say. “This is,
Kelly. He’s showing me where the porch is.”

Qasim nods. “I’ve got it, Kelly,
thanks.”

“You’re pretty nice, Kelly. Do you know
Qasim?”

Kelly smiles. “Yup.”

Qasim puts his arm on my shoulder and guides me
to a door I hadn’t noticed. He opens it and I step through onto a
little wooden deck similar to my own. It’s
crowded
out here.
There are lots of smokers. I reach for my jacket pocket but end up
grabbing my boob. I’m not
wearing
my jacket. I take another
swig. Damn this tea is tasty.

“I forgot my cigarettes.” I sigh mournfully.
“They’re at my house.”

Qasim strokes my hair. “Shouldn’t they be in
your jacket?”

I nod. “They are. My jacket’s at my
house.”

“You came here without a jacket?”

I look at him blankly. “I live next
door.”

His eyes pop open. “Which building?”

“This one. I’m the other third floor apartment.
Hey, you wanna see?”

Qasim grins. “Sure.”

“Cool. Let’s go get my Camels. Where’s
Schuyler?”

Qasim shrugs. “He was talking to some chick
last I saw.”

My eyes grow wide. “Really? Was she cute? Bitch
had better be cute. Schuyler deserves a totally cute, totally nice,
Catholic girl with huge fucking titties!”

Qasim laughs loud. “How are you drunk
already?”

I shrug. “I haven’t had a drink since the night
we met. What was that, a month ago?”

Qasim kisses my neck. “Not even two weeks ago.”
He whispers in my ear.

“Jesus!” I cry. “Am I
that
easy? Fuck!
Next time tell me it’s been years.” I wrap my arm firmly around his
hips. “I had no idea I’d be
near
alcohol tonight. Maybe I’m
Irish or something.”

He laughs some more. “No. I think the Irish can
hold their liquor better than you.”

“Whatever. I never puke, so I
hold
it
just fine. Goddamn I need a smoke.” And just like that a cigarette
appears in front of my face. I look up. It’s Schuyler. “Oh thank
you.” I say taking it and lighting up. “That’s better.”

Schuyler’s smiling at me. Qasim’s looking at
him. “You smoke the same brand?” He squeaks. I like his
squeakiness. I want to make him squeak
really
loud. I grab
his ass but he doesn’t make a sound.