Though the seemingly careless and unsanitary way that he kept his possessions suggested a lack of caring, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Darren was terrified of losing his things or having someone take them away. The very idea of it threatened to reopen the scab covering his wounds. He could not face the idea of needing something and not having it, or even worse, not being able to get it. He could not face that emptiness of the emotional neglect that he had filled up with things. He could not face the idea of himself being discarded. He could not face the panic of exposure. To lose his things was to lose the only relationships in his life that he felt like he really did have.

Aria felt sorry for Darren. Her own wounds allowed her to clearly see his. Like her, he was just doing the best he could with what the world had refused to give him. Like them all, he drained the soul from the cigarette between his lips, as if begging for mercy from a God that had cursed him. The indifference with which people passed by his noiseless cry was a sin in and of itself. He had built his life on the shoal of their insults and spare pocket change. Aria knew that this was probably how he would live out what was left of his life and that this was most likely the way he would die. And despite the bramble of his character, it nearly broke her heart. She distracted herself from the strain of watching him anymore by lying down and thinking about the man from the store. He had told her his name on the first day they had met and she tried to remember it, but couldn’t.

Aria imagined what it would be like if she had met the man under different circumstances – if they had been classmates together, or had met at a party somewhere. Almost any other circumstance seemed to guarantee her more dignity in their meeting. Aria fantasized about the certainty of love exchanged in a moment, finding each other face to face in some revolving door. She imagined herself to be more glamorous than she was now, a woman of class and fortunate circumstance. That certainty felt more beautiful to Aria than the uncertainty of the sudden passion that she felt for him and the inevitable lack of passion she was convinced that he would feel in return if he knew anything about her.

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 20

The three of them sat beneath a noisy underpass. It was the best place they could find to avoid the rain, which by noon was so heavy that it looked to drown everything in sight. Aria had found a giant blue rain slicker at a pre-Christmas clothing donation drive at one of the homeless shelters on the outskirts of the city nearly a month ago. She was gladder of it now than ever.