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 Posted: Mon Apr 19, 2010 3:33 pm
While Gene talked Ray shrugged off his white labcoat and, as he walked, started to fold it up. He was wearing the kind of button-down and obnoxious sweater-vest he always wore to work. The most that could be said for these outfits was that they were color-coordinated. They even tended to coordinate with the frames of his glasses. His socks were probably argyle too today. Only a certain kind of douchebag under the age of 30 wore argyle socks with his argyle sweater. Thanks to his billion goddamn girlfriends-of-the-week, he didn't even buy his own argyle socks.
"I'm sorry if I enjeopardied," for an English teacher Ray sure did love making up words in serious ******** situations, "either of our jobs or immigration statuses or security clearances. I just was just having a laugh. You know, a laugh. It's this thing that comes out your -- yeah, I know, look. I'm sorry." He didn't sound sincere. He didn't even sound worried. "Take a chill pill and relax. If I knew you were going to be so stressed out today, I wouldn't have added to it."
That was a little twist to a little knife. When they both reached the door to the second level of the parking garage Ray turned around and leaned on it, lab coat folded neatly over one arm.
He glanced at Gene, raised his eyebrows and then looked away. "No, seriously, I'm sorry," he said. "In fact, I think I just might get out of your hair. You know what I said about when a chick doesn't call you back after three days? Well, it turns out," he said, drawing it out, "that the internet tells me hard-to-get is a misogynist myth. And I'm no stalker, not on purpose, anyway, so, just say the word --" b*****d.
"-- and I'll ******** off for good." He checked his watch. "Didn't come here on my lunch break to get the cops called on me by no lady-love."
On the last couple words he looked at Gene again, shrugged, and then pushed down on the door handle, leaned it open and then held it there with the universal gesture for after you.
b*****d.
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Posted: Tue Apr 20, 2010 11:39 am
Gene winced. He didn't mean to wince, he just winced -- Ray was charming with little puppy teeth, and good at it, too. He was charming; he was cruel. Every person who'd ever entered or exited Ray's life had understood that they were dancing the Tango Maureen.
The cadence was familiar, the steps second-nature. Still. It was Ray. Ray really was his friend -- or had been his friend -- or -- well -- he was here, wasn't he, and --
"Wait," Gene blurted out. "I didn't mean it like that, it's not what I meant! Hey, I'm -- I'm glad you came by." He stared at a ding in the side of the Miata where it had probably had a run-in with a grocery cart, which was easier than looking at Ray. "It's no big deal about the doctors, you know?" Ray Gordon could cut Gene Baskov out of his life at the drop of a hat. Proven fact. Gene put on a fake, blustery smile. "It was kind of funny, actually, wasn't it?"
It wasn't.
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Posted: Tue Apr 20, 2010 12:21 pm
"Yeah?" That brought Ray to some kind of halt by the driver's door of the Miata. It took Gene a moment or two to realize he was looking at him. It took him a moment or two longer to work up the nerve to glance up, momentarily, to see what kind of looking-at-him it was. But Ray wasn't glaring, or even doing his version of glaring, which tended to be looking cool and disinterested unless he was really angry. He just had his steady gaze trained on him and looked like he was struggling with what to say, which, well, wasn't like him at all, really. Then he looked away and then smiled, like it was an afterthought. "Thanks," he said. "I'm glad I came by too." He jangled his car keys in one hand (he still had that bullet for a keyfob, after all this time) and unlocked his car, which still didn't have remote-unlock. "I've gotta get back to work, Billjo's gonna grind my bones to make his bread." Ray clapped him on the left shoulder: then, without preamble, leaned forward so their foreheads were touching. He was very briefly a blue cyclops. "You're wearing tall shoes today," he pronounced, stepping away. "See you later, alligator." {fin.}
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