Dark Deal

5

         "You. Don't. Like. Chocolate." She stared. "You're like - your mom is right. If it was an allergy, I'd understand. I mean, don't get me wrong, strawberries are divine. But, how can you not like chocolate? Were you traumatized by it somehow as a kid? Or, what's wrong with you?" She waited for him to catch his breath and quit laughing. Once he sat back up properly, she asked him, "Are you done?" He smiled.

         "Yes, I'm done. No, I wasn't traumatized by it as a kid. It's not terrible, just not a top flavor. Now, what's something about you? Before we move on to more heavy topics, what's your strange thing?"

         "Well, I guess....oh! I'm American, English and Scottish ancestry. Not a drop of Latin blood in my veins. But, when I get really angry or happy, I like to scream something in Portuguese, Spanish, or Latin. I'm not fluent in the languages, but I know enough phrases for it to be appropriate. Let's say I'm really excited about something. I might say something like, 'Minha nossa!' That's Portuguese for 'holy cow.' It's not classical though. I'm not learning the classical form; it's a different dialect because of my friends."

         The flashing lights reflected in her whiskey brown eyes. She ran a nervous hand down her dark green dress and smoothed imaginary wrinkles. If Jack looked close enough, he could see her freckles just barely peeking through her foundation. She was intelligent, but too sweet for this bloody town.

                                      *********

         "I met my wife about seven years ago. She was with a group studying the arts. They came by my mum's studio and watched us practice. We had a couple weeks before we hit the stage. Mum wanted everything to be tip top. She offered internships to any of the students who might be interested. My wife was one of the best interns we'd ever had. I think like eight of them took mum's offer. That's the beginning of our story. Nothing really horrible happened. It was good. We were good. I don't know what happened to us." He downed the last half of his ginger ale in two swallows. It burned a bit and made him cough.

         Helena patted his back, "Are you okay? Do you need some water?" He shook his head at her and finally caught his breath. "Do you need a minute? Would you....like me to go now? Should we leave?" She could see this conversation slowly ripping him apart. Nevertheless, he told her, "It's okay. I'll be okay. Your turn. What's the dirty on your secrets?" He tried to make it light with a laugh at the end.

         The lights flashed around them and the tremors in her drink told her either the music had too much bass, or everyone around them were dancing a little too hard. After staring into her bubbly escape for courage, she began. "I'm not sure what exactly to say about my secrets. "

         "Part of me really hates myself. I think sometimes it'd be easier for everyone if I didn't exist. It's not that hard to make yourself not exist anymore. Really, the only thing keeping you alive after you're dead is memories. People's memories of you or about you. If I didn't exist, nobody would have to worry about me." Her vision blurred as she stared, teary-eyed into her now empty glass. She felt like someone had ripped her chest open and all her bottled pain was beginning to escape.

         She took a deep, shaky breath and continued, " My best friend betrayed me after twenty years. We ran together for two decades and suddenly I'm a 'goody two shoes' who doesn't know how to have fun. How do you nurse a back wound, especially when your best friend is the one who put the knife there?"

         "I think that I'm not beautiful. I don't want someone to think I'm attractive - a person can find lots of people attractive. I want someone to think I'm beautiful. Boys don't. They're nice to my face but cruel behind my back. I'm not everyone's cup of tea, and I don't want to be. I just want to be one person's choice. It sucks and I hate how they're always single until they find out I like them. You wouldn't believe some of the stories I've heard."

         Jack reached a hand across the table and put it on her shoulder. "It's okay. Just breathe. Breathe." His soothing voice calmed her erratic breathing enough that she could continue.

         "One guy told me that he had a girlfriend who was in the foreign exchange student program and was currently studying in Europe. Another told me that he had a long distance girl from another continent - he couldn't be honest to someone's face. I wonder if she really did exist, was he truly faithful to her? There was one who told me that he wasn't in the mood for a relationship. I don't even know what that means. It's a good guess that he didn't know what it meant and just said it to get rid of me." She looked at him. "I'm sorry. You didn't take this much time. I'm not being fair." Helena tried to reign in her emotions and give Jack the same amount of time she had.

         "It's okay. It's okay. Life's not fair. But, I do appreciate you considering me. I'm not the only one hurting here. We express our pain with different words and at different rates. There's nothing wrong with that. No two humans are alike. Thank goodness. I don't think I could put up with seven billion people just like me. I'd go batty." They laughed at the last statement because it's true. If everyone was identical, we'd all go insane.