I almost screamed when the lighter appeared in front of me. I sat there for a moment, my heart a jackhammer in my chest, and just stared at the flame as I forced myself to swallow my alarm. There was a man beside me. He could hurt me. I either had to outrun him or outsmart him. My legs were shaking too much to run.
So I bent forwards and inhaled as I lit the cigarette. The smoke filled my lungs and steadied me enough to look up at him. It was the first time I’d ever seen a black person, other than on TV. I’d never learned to be racist because there was no one in our town to be racistto, but it shocked me, the darkness of his skin. He was so intense, never blinking as he stared down at me through a pair of glasses that brought out the angles in his face.
His presence was heavy, and it wasn’t the weight of it that scared me, but how soothing it felt to be pinned down. How disarming. I had to dig my heels in, had to scramble to hold onto myself before his gravity pulled me under, so I forced myself to repeat his English words.
“Youshould quit.”
His lip twitched. He watched me take another trembling drag from the cigarette, and then he said something in English I couldn’t understand. I must have looked confused because he squatted down next to me and repeated himself in French.
“I said: are you lost?”
I was the most lost I’d ever been. I was so lost I didn’t even know what ‘found’ meant anymore, but this man couldn’t know that. The way he moved had me mesmerized, but somewhere in the back of my head, I still recognized that he was a threat to me.
I shook my head.
“Do you need to call someone?”
I shook my head again.
He stayed silent for a moment as he pocketed the lighter and glanced at the little pile of ashes that was growing near the tip of my sneaker.
“You hungry?” He didn’t wait for me to shake my head this time. “You should have more than a cigarette for lunch. There’s a café in the bus station. If you need money—”
“I have money.”
I tried to sound angry, but I just sounded scared.
“Look.” He inched away from me, giving me space. “I know you’re not looking for help, and I know I’m just a guy on the sidewalk, but if I wake up tomorrow and the people on the news are talking about something bad happening to some girl with a violin case, and all I did was offer to light a cigarette for her, I’m not gonna be able to live with myself. So please, let me buy you a sandwich. I’ll leave right after if you want me to.”
I didn’t want him to leave. The longer he crouched next to me, the warmer I felt. I’d been spinning, and being in his orbit gave me direction again. Still, I hesitated.
“Okay, I know how sketchy I sound right now,” he pressed. “I know that this is like, the opposite of everything you’ve ever been told to do, but I just want to make sure you’re okay. I’m selfish like that.”
His lip twitched again, and I realized that was his attempt at a smile. I almost smiled too. He shifted so he faced me completely, and I watched in confusion as he closed his eyes and placed the first two fingers of both his hands on his temples, scrunching his face up like he was concentrating.
Then he just sat there.
“What...What are you doing?” I finally asked.
“I’m letting you read my mind,” he answered, without opening his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t know how to prove it to you, so...read my mind, okay?”
* * *
The dishwasher hisses,and I come back to myself in the cafe.
“Read my mind, Roxanne,” Cole repeats. “You know I want you. Not just your body—everything. Everything about you. The need, it’s...constant. That won’t change, but I’m not asking for more than you choose to give me. You can trust that.”
I wish he hadn’t mentioned constant need. The thought of it makes my breath hitch. I wish he didn’t lay out quite so clearly how easy it would be to go back to him, but he’s still giving me the chance to prove, once and for all, that we’re over. It’s a chance I have to take.
“D’accord.You can tell them I’ll do the tour.”
