Pod kůžíUnder the Skin

XII.

I woke up before the alarm went off.

At first I had no idea why. Then I felt the ache in my neck, opened my eyes, and looked at the ceiling. The opening screen of the film we had not finished the night before was still glowing on the television, and everything outside the window was white. So much snow had fallen overnight that the world seemed quieter than usual.

Adam shifted slightly beside me.

He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and for several seconds simply stared around in confusion.

“Morning,” he mumbled hoarsely.

“Morning.”

For a while we sat in silence, trying to loosen our stiff backs. The couch creaked softly whenever either of us moved, and Adam eventually started laughing.

“I think I’ve lost the left half of my body.”

“I’ve lost my neck.”

“Then we got off lightly.”

I nodded.

“Considering we slept on a couch.”

Adam looked at it and said, completely seriously:

“Next time we’ll put on a shorter film.”

I could not help laughing.

“That probably won’t help.”

He thought for a moment.

“Then...”

The corners of his mouth began to twitch.

“...we’ll unfold the couch.”

He was smiling that subtle, almost conspiratorial smile of his, as if he had just said something perfectly obvious.

It took me several seconds to understand what he had actually said.

Not if there is ever a next time.

Simply...

Next time.

While Adam was in the bathroom, I put the kettle on for coffee.

When he came out, he was fastening his watch and looking for his phone with one hand.

“What time is it?”

I looked at the clock.

“Ten to eight.”

He froze.

“Damn.”

He quickly pulled on a sweater, slung his coat over one shoulder, and picked up a mug from the kitchen counter.

“Sorry,” he said with a slightly guilty smile. “I’m really running late today.”

He took a careful sip of the hot coffee, immediately scalded himself a little, and hissed through his teeth.

“That was clever.”

I laughed.

“No one made you drink it boiling hot.”

“I know.”

He took another sip, more carefully this time.

“But I need to wake up.”

A few seconds later, the mug was empty.

He put it in the sink and reached for his coat.

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

He paused.

“For yesterday.”

I did not know what to say.

I just smiled.

I walked him to the door.

He put on his coat, wrapped a scarf around his neck, and reached for the handle.

Then he stopped. He turned around, took two steps back, kissed me briefly on the cheek, and smiled.

“Have a nice day.”

Before I could answer, he was gone.

I stood in the doorway for a while, listening as his footsteps faded on the stairs.

Then I slowly closed the door.

The apartment suddenly felt unusually quiet.

The rest of the day passed more quickly than I expected.

At school I took notes I could barely read afterward, and on my way to work I caught myself smiling at complete strangers several times. Luckily, no one noticed. Or at least I think no one did.

I finished a little earlier than usual that afternoon. On the way home I stopped at the shop for milk, bread, and a few small things I had needed to buy for several days. It was still freezing outside, and the snow crunched softly under my feet as I slowly made my way up to my building.

When I got home, I put away the groceries, made myself tea, opened my laptop, and pulled a stack of books toward me.

The term paper was not going to write itself.

The first half hour passed surprisingly quickly. I read articles, took notes, and finally felt as if I could concentrate again. It was strange how ordinary the day had been. Just the night before I had been sitting on the couch with Adam, and now I was dealing with citations, paragraphs, and deadlines all over again.

Just as I was finishing the last sentence of a paragraph, the doorbell rang.

I stopped.

No one ever came to see me.

For a while I just sat there, wondering whether I had imagined it.

Then the bell rang again.

I got up, crossed the hall, and opened the door.

Adam was standing in the corridor.

He had a backpack over one shoulder, a laptop in one hand, and was just taking off his hat with the other.

He smiled.

“Hi.”

I blinked at him in disbelief.

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

“I was passing by.”

I looked at him. Then out the window at the street. He lived on the other side of town. I looked back at him.

I smiled.

“You’re not very good at lying.”

He laughed.

“That’s possible.”

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugged.

“I wanted to see you.”

He paused, as if only now realizing how that sounded.

Then he smiled.

“So I stopped by.”

I just looked at him for a moment.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

I smiled.

I stepped away from the door.

“Come in.”

“If you don’t mind...”

I glanced at the laptop.

“...I need to finish my term paper.”

“Then get to work.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

He smiled.

“I brought my laptop too.”

I looked at him in surprise.

“You came prepared.”

He shrugged.

“I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t have time for me for a while.”

I looked at him, confused.

He smiled.

“That way I’ll force myself to do some schoolwork too.”

I laughed.

“That sounds surprisingly responsible.”

“Don’t let it fool you.”

He took his laptop out of his backpack, set it on his lap, and leaned comfortably against the back of the couch.

“Now work.”

“You too.”

“Yes, sir...”

I shook my head and sat down at the table.

I do not know how long we sat there.

It was strange how natural it felt.

I wrote my term paper while Adam occasionally typed something on his laptop, read for a while, and then wrote again. Neither of us felt the need to talk. Sometimes I could only hear the quiet tapping of the keyboard or the rustle of papers as he turned a page in his textbook.

Once, I turned around without thinking.

Adam was curled up on the couch, frowning at the screen in concentration, the end of his pen resting against his lower lip.

I smiled.

He looked as if he were solving the greatest mystery in human history.

In reality, he was probably just looking for a suitable citation.

I returned to my work.

After a while I realized I had not heard the keyboard for some time.

I paid no attention to it.

Only when I turned around again did I see that the couch was empty.

I stopped.

“Adam?”

No one answered.

I assumed he had gone to the bathroom and lowered my eyes to the laptop again.

But several more minutes passed.

Still nothing.

Finally I sighed, closed the laptop, and got up from the table.

“Adam?”

This time I headed straight for the kitchen.

The kitchen light was on. Adam stood with his back to the door, leaning slightly over the counter, carefully arranging slices of cheese beside the ham on a large plate. Sliced pepper, cucumber, tomatoes, and a basket of bread were already waiting beside it. Everything had been prepared so carefully that I had to smile.

I stood in the doorway for a moment. He did not notice me. He reached for the second plate, took a step back, and studied his work thoughtfully, as if wondering whether anything was missing.

I could not help myself. “What are you doing?” He startled so badly that he jumped.

Then he turned around. “Whoa...” He put a hand over his chest.

“Could you stomp a little next time?”

I laughed. “Sorry.”

I looked at the prepared plates. The bread. The vegetables. The care he had put into everything. I could not manage a single word. Adam noticed my expression.

He slowly walked over to me.

He kissed me briefly on the cheek. “Are you hungry?”

I wanted to say something. Anything. Instead, I just nodded.

He smiled. “I’ll just go to the bathroom.” He nodded toward the hall. “Then we can eat.”

Before I could collect myself, he disappeared into the bathroom.

I remained standing in the middle of the kitchen. Then I looked at the table. I remembered how many times I had eaten standing over the sink simply because I could not be bothered to prepare anything proper. How many times I had told myself it did not really matter. And now someone had spent ten minutes slicing a tomato for me. Just because he thought I might be hungry.

I slowly picked up both plates and carried them into the living room. I set them on the coffee table. Then I just stood there. My gaze drifted to the couch.

The same couch where we had woken up that morning. I do not even know why. I simply walked over to it. I caught hold of the back with one hand. Without thinking, I began unfolding it. I stopped only when I heard the mechanism click softly. I looked at my hands. And realized what I was doing.

That was when Adam appeared in the doorway.

He stopped for a moment.

His eyes moved over the unfolded couch.

Then he looked at me.

I stood beside it, feeling as if I had been caught doing something I had not even meant to do.

For several seconds we simply looked at each other in silence.

Then Adam smiled.

Not his amused smile.

The calm one.

He took a few steps toward me.

He kissed me briefly on the cheek.

Then he nodded toward the table.

“Wine?”

Adam did not wait for an answer. He simply turned, disappeared into the kitchen, and returned a moment later with two glasses, a bottle of wine, and a corkscrew.

He set everything on the coffee table, poured for both of us, and sat comfortably on the floor with his back against the unfolded couch.

He looked up at me.

“Will you put on a film for us?”

Only then did I come back to myself.

“Y-y-yeah.”

I reached for the remote.

I did not even think.

My fingers found the familiar icon on their own.

After a few seconds, the first shots appeared on the screen.

Adam looked at the television.

Then at me.

He slowly raised one eyebrow.

“You do realize...”

He paused for a moment.

“...that we’re not studying anymore today?”

I looked at the screen. Only then did I realize what I had put on.

I laughed.

He remembered.

The film continued playing on the screen.

This time, we really watched it.

Sometimes we laughed at the same scene, sometimes one of us made a brief remark that made the other laugh even harder than the film itself. The wine slowly disappeared, the plates were empty before long, and I suddenly realized that I was no longer thinking about what time it was.

I felt good.

And for the first time in a very long while, I did not feel the need to wonder why.

When the end credits appeared, Adam stretched and reached for his empty glass.

“That went exactly according to plan.”

I looked at him in confusion.

“What plan?”

He smiled.

“We did absolutely nothing for school.”

I laughed.

“That was your fault.”

“I know.”

He said it so calmly that I had to shake my head.

Then he looked at the clock.

His smile disappeared for a moment.

“I should go.”

I nodded.

“Yeah.”

That one word surprised me. In reality, I wanted to say something completely different. That it was not late yet. That it was snowing outside anyway. That he could stay. But none of those sentences made it out.

Adam got up and carried the empty glasses into the kitchen without thinking. When he returned, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and put on his coat.

I walked him to the door.

He put on his shoes.

For a moment we simply looked at each other.

Then he leaned toward me.

He kissed me briefly.

This time on the lips.

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

He smiled.

He opened the door.

And left.

I stood in the doorway for a while, listening as his footsteps slowly faded down the stairs.

Then I closed the door.

I went back to the living room.

The unfolded couch remained exactly as we had left it.

I stared at it for a long time.

Then I slowly sat down on its edge.

I did not want to fold it back up.