Meyer

He tapped his fingers on the table, the incessant beat cutting through the evening din of the cafeteria. She flinched with every finger roll and nail click.
“Would you stop that?”
Her eyes were red and wet. Ragged nails bit into the nylon of a nearby baby blue back pack.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“No.”
She blinked back tears and dragged the pack into her lap. She looked around for a moment, eyes self conscious and cheeks flushed. She unzipped the smaller pocket and took out a tube of cherry red lipstick. She applied it without a mirror. Her accuracy surprised him, and, freshly reborn, she looked towards him with a sharp new malevolence. His fingers stopped.
“Well, listen. If you won’t talk, then I will.”
She dragged her pale fingers through her dark hair and exhaled.
“This is the last time I want to see you, understand? Christ, I need a cigarette.”
She laughed.
“See what a poison you are? I haven’t smoked in months, and now, looking at you, all I can think of is how good a cigarette or four would taste.”
A short, old man in a blue stripped polo was eavesdropping from a table across the way.
“Where are you looking? Where are you even looking?”
She spun around and saw the interloper, his thin neck craning forward and a grin splayed guiltlessly across his face. She waved at him and smiled.
“Sir, excuse me? Sir? Can you hear me?” He nodded. “Excellent! Now I’m sure this is all very exciting to listen to, I’m sure it’s the highlight of your day. Really, I’m sure it is! Do you have a name?” He coughed. “Ah, so shy, so shy! It’s all right my dear Stumble John, I’m sure it’s a fairly boring name anyway. Perhaps it’s Frank. Such an ugly name don’t you think? I feel bad for you Frank, living with a name like that. Now, my miserable companion here, my fellow cohort, my Meyer, he has a beautiful name. Musical. Elegant. Exotic even. It’s a shame it doesn’t fit him very well.” She stopped smiling and ran her tongue across her full lips. She closed her eyes and firmly pinched the bridge of her nose. “Frank, watch closely, I don’t want you to miss the burning of one of my most favorite bridges. Are you watching?”
“Ma’am I don’t-”
“Shut up. This is delicate work. I can’t have you distracting me. Sit still and watch.”
She turned back to him. A tear fell on the table. Her hands found a loose paper napkin and began to absently shred it.
“You know, Meyer, I did love you. Even if you never loved me, I really did love you.”
“I know you did.”
She began to sob. “Oh God, oh goddamn it, goddamn it all!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Meyer, oh Meyer, how can you know what that means? How can you ever know what that means?”