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A bolt of surprise illuminated his flat eyes, and then he glanced beyond me toward Lars. “Who the hell is this?”
Ah, he does speak English.
“Name’s Winston,” I answered, drawing his eyes back to me. “Who the hell are you?”
“He’s no one.” Lars spoke up behind me. His voice was strong, but I still felt his nervous energy.
Anger, swift and fierce, darkened no-name’s face. “No one?”
I glanced over my shoulder, arching a brow at Lars.
Panic stole over his features but was quickly smoothed out. “I, ah, owed him some money, okay? I paid it back. But he keeps coming back for more.” There was a slight whine to his explanation at first, but it swiftly gave way to desperation and something that tasted a hell of a lot like fear.
I never knew fear had a flavor, but it was pungently distinct. It tasted worse than shit.
“He won’t leave me alone.” The words were quiet and drenched in sadness.
I turned back to no-name. “That true?”
“His debt isn’t paid till I say it is. I own him.”
I laughed. “What is this, some bad B-rated movie on cable?”
Everything paused as if my laughter had somehow shocked him.
“Win,” Lars hissed behind me, and that god-awful-tasting fear? It coated my tongue again.
“Look, American, I don’t know how it is in your country, but this isn’t your place.”
I leaned down, insanely smug because he was shorter than me and I could accentuate it this way. All the sunshine I usually glowed with snuffed out, leaving behind all the dark my sun disguised.
No-name paused midsentence, clearly taken off guard and perhaps—hopefully—intimidated. “It is my place because I’m standing here. Because Lars is my new roomie, and that means if you come around harassing him, then you’re harassing me. Back inAmerica—” I emphasized it because he seemed to think calling me what I am was an insult. Joke’s on him. “When someone pays what they owe, that’s the end of the debt. We don’t harass people like gangsters.”
No-name’s eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth.
I held up my finger, stopping him. “Seems to me that Lars doesn’t want you coming around, so I suggest you get back in your car and drive away. Don’t come back.”
“Yeah? And what if I do?” He challenged.
I did not miss Lars’s swift intake of breath.
“Then I’ll show you just how uncivilized we Americans really are,” I said, taking a threatening step forward.
“You gonna hit me?” he shoved me back. “Go ahead. Hit me!”
The side of my mouth quirked up. “If I ever get to the point of needing to hit you to get my point across, then your fate is already sealed.” I spoke calm and quiet. Almost conversationally. I didn’t have to be violent to get my point across. All I had to do was hide my sun.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I quirked my head to the side, regarding him coolly without blinking at all. “Don’t so much as breathe in our direction. If you do, I’ll be sure to let whoever is in charge around here know just what kind of impression their students are making on those coming from abroad and how I will regretfully have to let my prestigious university back home know this place is persona non grata.” Then without even changing expression, I leaned down again. “That means unwelcoming and full of suck.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked. His infuriated stare flicked toward Lars.
I clucked my tongue, making it fire back to me instead. “Bye, now.”
After a charged, heated silence during which I stood there acting bored but fully prepared to take a punch, no-name turned and walked back across the street.
I stood there staring while he got in his car. I stared when he looked through the windshield. I stared when the engine turned over and he pulled out onto the street. I watched him drive off until his taillights disappeared, and then I stood there longer.
Finally, when I was sure he was gone, I relaxed and turned.
