He came into the bar at a quarter to seven. I had already had one gin and tonic and was just gesturing to the barman for another when I saw him. His hair had grown longer and his skin was less tanned. He looked straight at me as though there were no one else in the bar. I looked at him and then glanced down. It was too much for me.

“I’m so glad you phoned,” he said. “I’ve been feeling bad about you.”

“I thought you were amazing from the first time I saw you,” I said.

“You’re good at playing the straightest boy in the class,” he said. “I didn’t trust you.”

“Is that why you hit me with the tennis ball?”

“I’m sorry about that too. I was having a very bad time. I had never done anything like that before in my life.”

I ordered him a beer and myself another gin and tonic. We raised the glasses and nodded at each other. I reached over and held his hand and then released it.

“You’d better watch it around here. We’re not in California,” he said.

“Why did you come back?” I asked him.

He shrugged and smiled.

“I don’t know why I came back. Maybe I just missed it. And there were problems.”

Talking with him was like keeping a balloon floating in the air, punching it higher each time it started to come down. I did not want to ask about problems.

“What’s it like at home?”

“Would you like to live there, eat every meal there?”

“Jorge doesn’t mind it.”

“About half of Jorge has disappeared.”

I was going to mention that I knew where some of the missing half was, but it was better to say nothing. If I started to tell him about Jorge, then he would have a right to feel that I would tell Jorge about him.

“Maybe you’ll get your own place.”

“What’s your place like?” he asked me.

“It belonged to my mother. Someday soon I’m going to have it all redecorated. It’s in a terrible state.”

“Do you own it?” As he said this, I noticed that he sounded like his father.

“No, but there’s a lease on it. The rent is almost nothing.”

“Maybe I’ll get to see the inside of it sometime.” Now he did not look like his father at all. The blue of his eyes was delicate and pure, his eyelashes long and dark. We looked at one another.

“Why don’t you come up now?”

“Is the bed made?” he asked.

“Yeah, I made sure of that before I came out.”

It was almost dark outside as we wandered through the city. We walked slowly.

“I’m nervous,” I said.

“That’s a good sign,” he said. “I feel calm.”

“I bet you don’t.”