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“Don’t do this. You know it’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair. Get used to it.”
I laugh. “I’m finding that out.” But then I see his face and I don’t know whether to punch him or beg him. I take a closer look at him. His trembling hands. The spittle in the corners of his mouth. The dilated pupils. His skin so pale it’s almost blue. “Have you been sleeping?” I ask, more gently.
He snorts. “I can sleep when this is done.”
I cock my head at him. “What did you take, Alex?” I reach out to touch him and he jerks backwards. “I think I should call someone. We can discuss all that stuff later, but I think you need help. Have you seen your parents recently?”
“Shut up.” He starts to rub his forehead over and over.
I move around the table toward him. I just want to hug him. Hold him tight until this passes. “I’m worried about you.”
“No, you’re not. Stay away from me!”
“It’s okay.” But his nose has started to bleed. “Honey, please. Look at me. I’m not moving. I’m right here, Alex. What’s wrong? I’m not going to hurt you, you know that.” But he’s backing against the window behind him, his eyes darting around as if searching for escape.
“I’ve said my piece and I want you to leave! Now!”
I have to call someone. I have to do it now. He needs an ambulance, but my bag and my phone are in the living room, so I keep talking, holding his gaze as I walk slowly to him. “You can publish alone, I don’t care. I really don’t. Come on, Alex, come and sit down with me.”
I extend my hand to him again but he just laughs.
I come closer. So close I can almost touch him.
He raises his arm over his face. “Leave me alone!”
For a horrible moment I think he’s afraid of me. Then in one motion he turns, pushes up the sash window and swings one leg out so that he is sitting astride the window sill, looking down. I scream for him to stop but he’s already slipped under the top sash and I am standing with my arms outstretched and a scream garbled in my throat.
“Alex!”
But Alex isn’t there anymore.
Five
It’s so strange, unreal, like a dream. He didn’t scream, or shout, or make a noise. He just disappeared.
I want to run to the window, but I can’t move. Black dots swirl in front of my eyes and I put one hand flat on the table to steady myself.
“Alex?”
After a moment I take a step, then another, until I’ve reached the window.
“Alex?” Slowly, I peer down, along the alley that borders the west side of the building. I can’t see him. I’m looking, but I can’t see him and for one beautiful moment I think maybe he’s playing a joke on me, until I see his bare foot. His body is wedged between the brick wall of the building and a dumpster. A piece of metal has pierced his torso and anyone can see that he’s dead. I clasp my hands over my mouth to stop myself from screaming and drop to the floor, my back against the wall.
I have to get help. I crawl to the living room, stumble upright and snatch up my bag from where I left it on the couch. It’s a tanned soft leather bag with a single shoulder strap and Luis had once joked that searching for something in it was like shoving your hand inside a giant mushroom. I think about that now, the giant mushroom, and I don’t know what’s real anymore. Am I tripping? Did Alex give me something in that coffee and walk out of the apartment? Is this some kind of prank?
No. I didn’t touch my coffee. I empty the bag on the floor because that’s the quickest way to locate my phone. I snatch it with shaking hands, then stop.
Alex is dead. I’m sure of it. Should I ring the university first? Or should I ring his parents? What will I say to them? I should ring the ambulance. That’s it. That’s what I need to do. My finger hovers over the first digit,9.
And tell them what, exactly?
He was going to leave my name off the paper and then he fell out the window.
I remember the letter he gave me earlier, lying on the kitchen table. I pick it up with shaking fingers. It’s typed on thick, cream-colored stationery.
Dear Anna,
