‘Hi,’ repeated Chris L.

Chris L handed him his beer.

‘Mmm, thanks,’ he said.

The man was American. He took a voluptuous gulp, vocal and expert, smacking his lips all over it before handing it back to Chris L.

I thought about offering him mine, which would have been bizarre, but being around these two people as they toed closer towards each other, smiling and making sounds and saying basically anything, made me want to do something impulsive. First I would scull the beer, then I’d pour it all over my shoe. Afterwards, I’d eat the shoe, and then start licking my toes. It was just awkward to be around people who were hooking up, especially when it was awkward to be around them anyway. Chris L’s mouth was moving soft and fast, so I guessed he probably was high.

‘I think I should go to the bathroom,’ I said.

‘No, don’t,’ said Chris L.

The man smiled at me, this American. ‘Are you sure, mate?’ he said.

I liked it, wrong and queasy; the tangy Aussie word with a weird American twist. ‘Uh huh,’ I said. I took a step away from them.

‘Come back and see us,’ said Chris L.

The American smiled next to him.

‘No,’ I said.

‘Okay,’ he said.

I was a bad improv partner.

‘Sayonara,’ said the American.

Back at the wall where I’d left Dan and Lachlan, there was no more them. I scanned around. I saw two shorts-wearing figures walking off, away from the highway and into the quiet, house-packed streets.

‘Hey,’ I called.

Sayonara! Was he being insensitive or ironic? He had maybe ten years on me, maybe twelve on Chris L. Either way, it was weird and embarrassing.

‘Hey!’ I called again.

One of the walkers was in luminous, fat white sneakers. ‘Hey!’ I called. Dan.

Both of them kept on walking.

I trailed them for a long time, which was fun, and then not fun. Lots of people drove in to Fitzroy on Saturday nights and most of them thought they could find backstreet parking. When Dan and Lachlan crossed a street, I followed at some distance, frequently having to dodge the movements of these cars, which probed around like orcas, false of eye, fixed of motive.

Soon I was close enough to hear their conversation. ‘What about this one?’ Dan was saying.

‘No, what about this one?’ said Lachlan.

They had said it several times before I understood that they were picking houses, ones they favoured less or more, which is not something Dan and I had ever done as a drunken sport. This was slightly unnerving, so I hung back more.

‘Careful, babe,’ Lachlan was saying, ‘there’s glass up there.’

‘It’s fine,’ said Dan, ‘I’m wearing shoes,’ and took a step forward, stomp, stomp, in his fancy sneakers, which caused the broken glass to snap and crunch. I laughed. It was two of my favourite Dan things, equally extreme and factual.

At the sound of my laugh, they turned around.