In the Smoking Area
Cristina Rizzo
“You ok?” He scares me. His voice is hugged by the cushioned music from inside the club. My ears feel trapped under years of fabric.
“Yeah, I was just feeling a bit sick.”
“Oh.” He looks a bit taller now that I’m sat down. “Want me to get you water?” He’s wearing the blue shirt I haven’t seen in a year. It makes him look familiar, like something from my childhood. Like the toxic smell of plastic toys closed off into Ikea boxes.
“Nah. I’m good. I’m scared more liquid will make it worse.”
“Fair enough.” He always says that. He is so himself right now and it stings my throat. He’s retracing up the folds of my brain with his cold finger, teasing. The dark freckle under his left eye. His nails bitten to the beds. Everything is like it’s supposed to be. Except for the cigarette in his right hand, his elbow resting on his hip. His arm so light it looks likeit’s being held by the night for a while. I don’t remember him being so weightless. He has a woman’s hips. I remember the skin on his hips. And a pang hits me in my gut and brings acid up my throat.
This scene is awkward. I don’t like it. Him standing like that in front of me. Me sat down, bricks digging into my back. I wish I could scooch back, disappear into the nightclub wall. I can feel the music’s vibrations on my spine. They shake their way to my head.
“Mind if I sit?” I shake my head. He gets taller the closer he gets. When he sits, we finally see eye to eye. His hair so red under the light that is way too bright right now. It’s like we’re on display, ready to be looked at. Except no one stops by to do it. We’re invisible.
We’re part of the wall. We’ve become bricks.
“How are things with Kat? Heard you two were,” he hesitates, “seeing each other.”
“They’re good, yeah. Nothing to complain about, really.”
He takes a puff and lets it go. The air takes it from him.
“That’s good isn’t it?”
My head becomes lighter in the smoke and cold air concoction. I wonder if his does too. “I guess. It’s not going anywhere. She knows too, I think. I think we’re just waiting to see what happens.”
“Don’t you decide what happens?” His questions still confuse me. There’s always something acid in them, a sarcasm that’s also completely honest.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t know what to decide, though. It’s nice to just be with someone for a minute.” I don’t know why I’m being so open to him. I haven’t spoken to him alone in a long time. My heart joins in with my shaking spine.
“That makes sense.” He drains one last smoke and throws the cigarette on the ground like our friend Tom does. I wonder if he started because of him. He steps on it and twists his foot, turning off that lovely red. And soon, without the smoke to fend off the cold wet fingers of the night, I feel naked, I feel tense again sitting so close to him. I can feel the blue of his shirt on my arm hair and I don’t like it.
“I’m gonna head back in.” I say before he can say it. And when I get up it’s like I’m getting up from a bed he’s still lying on. The brick wall of the nightclub his hard pillow. Me, cold and naked looking for my underwear. The night is his now, he’s taken it from me. And I’m leaving it to him like I’m leaving his room one last time.
Bisexual
I cried on my way back
From the hairdresser’s.
My mom says
It’ll grow back,
And plus, it’s cute,
I like it when it’s straight.
She doesn’t know
I cry because of that.
My hair is cute
And I have a boyfriend.
Long Distance (I)
I’ve still got your
Shaved off
Stubble
In my soap dish
You know?
Your towel’s hanging
White and yellowed-white on the bathroom hook.
And I haven’t
Thrown out your
Hayfever meds
With the daisy on
which are way past the best before.
After you leave
They all stay there for a bit
With me
Because you’ve just gone
To get that thing at Tesco.
Writer's bio:
Cristina Rizzo is from Italy, and she's studying an MSc in English Literature at the University of Edinburgh. Her biggest writing inspiration has always been the people around her: their dialogue, the way they behave around each other, and the little tensions and chemistries in their relationships. At the moment she is really interested in the dynamics between partners and in friendship groups, especially at university. Since she has moved to Edinburgh she has been published in The Rattlecap and will be published in PublishEdinburgh’s upcoming “Anatomy” theme.
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