it was quiet, adjacent. not that you’re gonna have a boom box blasting, but you can talk to your friends and have a reasonable cackle without being thrown daggers by the other occupiers of the library’s 5th floor.
it was as close to silence as i could get to without combusting.
i was deep into my paper, with books, and articles, and post-its, and photocopies all around me. i’m up against my headphones trying to take on marx when roberto taps my shoulder.
“what would marx say about you arguing for wealth redistribution while listening to britney spears?” he asks and laughs, amused by his own question. roberto clearly thought about this.
the effort is what makes roberto really, really sexy. not his body, like he works out at home, casually but consistently. not his café au lait skin, just like mine. maybe 3 inches taller than me. perfectly gelled hair and carefully chosen cologne. quiet but impactful.
“okay, so, before i go back to writing, can you watch my computer while i go to the bathroom?” i ask roberto.
“why don’t we ask… her and i go with you?”