Chapter 34: Eve.

As much as my salary wasn't one for a penthouse in Santa Monica, I could afford renting by myself. However, there was something enticing about what Carl had pointed me to. He had given me Eve's phone.

Eve was a friend with whom Carl had a relationship quite difficult to classify. At first I thought that Carl was smitten by her. Maybe he was, but it clearly was leading nowhere. And Carl knew so, yet he had become willingly stuck in that limbo in which he couldn't expect a change in her nor force one in himself. A limbo of wasted hopes and wasted time.

Eve was renting a great two bedroom apartment in North Hollywood, and she was looking for a roommate. North Hollywood had been quickly gentrifying, and was quite a diverse and relatively safe neighborhood.

Her apartment was very close to the subway, not many blocks away from restaurants, supermarkets, theaters, bars, and the park. Some places, like that clown in the corner, I had seen before. Maybe in movies.

Carl suggested to meet. Sure! Yes, Carl, I'll meet her!

For sure, Carl wanted to be present in that first meeting. Because of course, "without his calming presence we would have gone crazy and probably killed each other". I'm paraphrasing and trying to be snarky, but we'd better disregard whatever far-fetched scenario Carl presented to justify his presence: he was an open book.

Meeting Eve was astounding. To me, she appeared as a natural in that role that life had never offered me: a sister, but a really good one at that. A younger sister at times —others, older. Not so close that we would be twins. Just a satellite. An important one, a moon that would accompany me part of my days and nights. Sometimes with a guiding light, others with a waning presence.

That was a first impression: I was going to have my doubts about the role she was meant to fulfill. Still, from the day I met her to the day I left without notice, she showed that my first impression had been mostly correct.

Carl, in the middle, always wanted to insert his remarks. It was... weird —funny, in a cringe comedy kind of way. Eve was dispassionate about him, showing only some kind of distant appreciation and tepid respect. He projected a few images of us being roommates that would never become true, fortunately. Something about owning one hundred dogs and playing ping-pong all day long.

But roommates we became —even if only with one cat, Eve's. I really liked dogs.