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Sacha came out of
the bathroom and walked briskly back across the floor of the bar
towards the door and the fresh air outside. As she passed the speaker
stack a loud bass note curled out unexpectedly: she looked up at
the stage to see Mal smiling down at her. After a moment of surprise
she smiled back uncertainly , but Mal didn't even notice: he was
already back focussing on his bass, and on Eric and on Steve. Sacha
got outside and took a deep breath of the fresh air with the relief
of a diver breaking the surface. But the air wasn't so fresh after
all: a cloud of acrid smoke crept past her nose. She turned her
head, and saw Alain smoking a cigarette in front of the bar's blacked-out
window. "Got sick of the music, eh?" he asked with a suggestive
grin on his face. Sacha didn't answer. She didn't know whether it
was a serious comment, anyway. Instead she just turned her head
away to breath in the night air. She didn't need this, but she could
hardly walk off somewhere else. He'd probably follow her, anyway.
"Is this bothering you?" Alain asked, and she turned her
head again to see him holding up his cigarette, smoke spilling lazily
from its glowing tip.
"Not specifically"
she replied, and turned away once more. Alain laughed to himself.
"You know,
I'm not such a bad guy."
"For fuck's
sake, I didn't come out here to be hit on."
"I'm not. Anyone
can see you're not interested in me."
Once again, she
was forced to look at him. She narrowed her eyes with distaste.
"Oh, shut up. Please."
He didn't quite
do that, but at least he changed the subject. "Do you think
Rona and Hannah have ever made out?" he asked, a tone of genuine
curiosity in his voice. The question was hardly an improvement.
"Why the fuck
would I care?" Sacha snapped.
"No reason"
replied Alain calmly, and grinned around the rim of his cigarette.
"But I bet they have." There was a pause in the conversation
while Alain thought about this with a smile on his face. Eventually
he broke the silence: "So ask me something. Anything you want."
Sacha shot him a
look, trying to just glare at him and hide how perplexed she was
by this statement. "What is it with people in this town?"
she said. "I always seem to be having conversations like this."
Alain laughed knowingly.
"That wasn't the type of question I meant."
Sacha grimaced and
shut her eyes. "Fine. Why the name? You said you're not French."
"I'm not. Mum's
from New Caledonia." He didn't elaborate. Instead, he said:
"So now it's my turn"
Sacha sighed. She
felt like she'd been led into a trap - and like she should have
seen it coming. "Oh, all right" she growled angrily.
"Ask a fucking question if you want. But I can't promise I'll
answer it."
"Fair enough."
He paused for thought. "So . . . Have you ever been in a porno?"
"What?"
Sacha didn't know whether to be dumbfounded or furious.
Alain shrugged.
"I thought everyone from Canberra had been in a skin
flick." He grinned again.
"You're such
a dickhead."
"Why? You're
a sexy girl. What's wrong with that?" he asked. Sacha shook
her head, too tired to answer.
Alain sucked one
last time on his cigarette and exhaled extravagantly, blowing a
couple of smoke rings just for show. He dropped the butt on the
ground and crushed it into the pavement. "Okay" he said.
"I'll leave you in peace now." And then, unexpectedly,
he placed a hand on her shoulder as he passed by. "Don't let
her get you down, okay?" he said, and before Sacha could think
of a response he was back in the bar.
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