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275
two crimestories
“Pfff,” is all he said,
crossing his arms.
I had told Sam that I
was sick and needed
to take care of some
organizational things. It
wasn’t exactly a lie, and
in her typically pragmatic
way, she had accepted it.
But then she called to say
that she was coming by
to check on me. One hour
later, she was standing on
my doorstep. I had been
able to convince Flann
to wait in the kitchen
until Sam left, but I still
felt uptight and eluded
her attempts to kiss me.
She registered this with
raised eyebrows, and
ultimately
commented
on my hormonal balance.
“Your
neurotrophins
have probably dropped,
and there’s not enough
oxytocin either, right?”
I gazed at her cluelessly.
She dismissed it with a
wave. “Forget it. Just call
when you’re ready. I’m
going home.”
Naturally, this state of
things was untenable.
Flann,
however,
still
wouldn’t agree to leave.
“Why?”
“How am I supposed
to sleep with with my
girlfriend if you’restanding
there, watching…”
“I could give you some
tips,” Flann offered, which
I ignored.
“... and she’ll notice,
sooner or later, that I’ve
gotten strange. And how
amI supposed toexplain to
a scientist the existence of
a Celtic mythical creature
she can’t even see?!” I
was yelling by this point.