Any conversation that starts with dark depression, is bound to end with an angry albino.
I licked my lips. No blood, but you could have made dentures from the depression on my lower lip.
"¿fine?" Alex asked again.
"yes - sorry - think too hard"
"¿not want?" he nodded at the pills. "sorry"
"no - don't know word - not worry - me"
There was a knock on the door. "Hello?"
"¿who you think?" I asked
"¿who me think what?"
"¿knocking? sorry - not hear - (shocked expression) maybe me deaf"
I flipped him off.
"sorry - not understand" anyone who thinks that sarcasm is all about vocal inflection needs to spend a day locked in a room with a sarcastic Deaf person.
I got up and opened the door. "Hey Safe. What's wrong with your lip?" It was Bernard, the campus's albino asshole. What he lacked in pigmentation, he made up for in pigheadedness. I would have invited him in, but I was afraid he'd accept. "Is Alex here?"
"Alex?" I yelled. "No answer. He must be somewhere else."
Bernard pushed the door open. "Oh there he is. Hey Alex, something wrong with your hearing?"
I translated. Alex signed back "no - ¿wrong with skin?"
I felt like I was trapped in a very boring David Lynch script. "Ask him if he's coming to my party tonight?"
"¿you go asshole party?"
"No." Alex said. "Busy." It struck me that Alex's voice was sexy in that gravelly, hardly-ever-used sort of way. He turned his head back to the computer. Conversation over.
"Well, if he's not going, ask him if he's got anything he might want to donate to the cause."
"Like what?" I asked.
"You want to know, you ask him."
He tapped Alex on the shoulder and very slowly and loudly said "Do you have any ecstasy?"
Alex cocked his head to the side, and expanded his eyes until they were frog sized "Noooooooooo." and to me he signed "tell asshole go"
"What did he say?"
"He either said 'sorry he doesn't have any pills, maybe you should ask someone else' or 'tell the asshole to go away', I'm not sure, my sign language is a little rusty."
"Asshole." he said to the back of Alex's head, and slammed the door as he left the room.
Alex turned toward me "¿hear that?"
"¿his problem?" Any discussion that begins with an angry albino is bound to end with a sheep. At least, that's been my experience.
"not know - ¿bad day for vampire?"
Alex laughed. A sound I loved.
"¿doing?" I asked.
He waved me over to the computer. He had been writing me a note on my laptop. I not know sure if you know signs I want to use, and no patience for fingerspelling. Hope I not make you uncomfortable with ecstasy. Just like hanging out with you. Thought it would be fun. Don't know when the next time Matt go to parents's. Maybe my one chance to corrupt you.
"¿sign c-o-r-r-u-p-t?" I asked. He showed me. "¿you corrupt me? ¿me?"
He went back to typing. Yes. You. Reading the way he was typing, I realized that his English comp teacher was right, he was definitely picking up my writing style. Short, choppy sentences that get directly to the point. Of course, it was also possible that my writing was influenced by American Sign Language. You need corrupting. I saw your cache.
Cache? Cash? Catch? What did cache mean? "¿c-a-c-h-e?"
He dragged the mouse up to the history folder and opened up my cache. Ohhhh, cache. Fuck.
He turned toward me. "me know you - same as - like you ¿like me?"
It was my turn to get frog-eyed.
"no" I shook my head "yes" I should have clarified by kissing him, instead I leaned over and started typing Yes, I like you. I didn't know you were...bi? gay?
He pointed to gay, and then took control of the keyboard. Why do you think I hang out with you? Your ASL sucks. I waiting for you make move. But you slow.
"you english shit ¿who teach you type?"
I picked up the Ziploc bag and poured a couple pills in my hand. "¿many?"
"¿first?" he asked. I nodded. "one" And like a good little sheep, I swallowed.