"Most Australian boys come off as not being very smart."

     I shot a look at her. I couldn't tell whether she was speaking to me or not. Her blank stare was fixed somewhere over my shoulder. I turned my head to see who or what she was addressing or referencing but found nothing of interest. I turned back to her.



     "Eh?"

     She shook her head of blankness and offered a thin apologetic smile as her eyes met me.
     "I find that most Australian boys come off as not being very smart."
     I was shocked, but mostly at her manner of speech.
    "I believe what you meant to say was that you have found that most Australian boys are unintelligent."
     "I just said that," She argued.
     "You did-- but not in a way that didn't make your argument seem weak-- but the Australian thing, that's stereotyping, isn't it? Which is weak to begin with. That's like saying,'All American girls are particularly rude.'"
     She studied the foam on her beer.
     I did not know this girl, had never seen or spoken to her before in my life, and was only sitting before her now because it was the last seat available in the pub. God forbid I should have to stand to drink beer after the day that I'd had.

    My brother had died.

    "Are you Australian?" She asked.
    "English," I paused, realizing the error of a previous statement. She seemed like a very nice girl, she had obliged me the seat after all and she was rather pretty to look at. I brought the pint to my lips.
     "Are you American?" I asked.
     "Yes," she smirked, knowingly.
     "Oh."
     My face flushed. I drank what little was left in my glass down as quickly as I could.
     "It isn't so bad being particularly rude," She mused, guiding her full pint towards me with her fingertips-- willing me to take it, "You should try it."
     "I'm sorry about what I said. It's been--."
     "It's okay," She reassured, "If it's any consolation, I thought you were Australian."
     I lifted my eyes as if to roll them but brought them back down before the motion had been completed.
     "I could see as to where I could come off as seeming unintelligent but this is England and I barely spoke two words to you-- wait, I said-- what did I say? Oh right, 'May I have this seat?' That's- what? One, two, three, four-- five. Five words. I barely spoke five words to you. That's hardly enough to come off as Australian."
     "You seem offended."
     "I am a little."
     "Why?"
     "Because I'm not Australian and I don't want to be viewed as Australian."
     "You're very proud of your nationality."
     "Sure," I shrugged, "But also because Australian boys don't come off as being very smart."
     She laughed.
     "Do you want this beer?" She gestured to her still untouched pint.
     "No. Thank you."
     "Really. I'm not going to drink it."
     I did want the beer but it felt too much like charity and ungentlemanly. She gave me a pleading look from big dark eyes and a pale round face partially obscured by dark hair.
     "No-- but thank you."
     "We could share it."
     "You're very persistent." 
     "I don't mean to be a pain. I just sort of realized that I don't want to be here any longer but it didn't hit me before the beer was set down."
     "What's wrong with here?" I glanced around the pub. At this point there were people standing about drinking. Lone soldiers, slouched forward, glasses in hand, stalking the next seat to become available. I didn't like the looks of any of the people ready to fill hers.
     "It's too crowded."
     "Too many strange men to sit with?" I joked but wondered if I had been seriously considering it for myself.
     She smiled, "Yes, but thank God they aren't Australian."
     I forced a smile in response.
    "I'll share the beer with you," I conceded, "You go first."
    She held the rim between her pale pink lips and sipped before passing it off to me.
     "Is this so you know that I wouldn't drug my own beer?" She inquired.
     I drank from the glass and set it back before her.
     "Few men worry about being drugged as it would make us rather useless. If this was your first time experimenting with such then I pity you-- not only would I be useless but the rest of the people standing would turn on you due to my unconscious person taking up a chair."
    "You talk a lot."
     I blushed, "I guess I have a lot to say."
     "You haven't said your name."
     "That's a very good come on."
     "It's not a come on. I'd like to know."
     "Alright then. Ladies first," I urged.
     "Nin. My name is Nin."
     "Nin? Is that part of a longer moniker?"
     "No."
     "Hmm. It's interesting. I like it."
     "Good. I'm glad. It's the only one that suits me so far."
     "Lee."
     "No, Lee doesn't suit me at all," She contested.
     "No," I corrected, "Lee is what I'm called-- though I'm not sure how well it suits me."
     "I think it suits you fine," She swigged, "In fact, I've never known you as anything else."
     "I haven't been known as anything else-- even despite being called lots of things. What would you have guessed me as?"
     "Lee."
     "Before you knew what I was called?"
     "But now I can't see you as anything different so what does it matter?"
     "In humour?"
     "In humour-- I don't know-- Carl."
     "Carl?" I took another drink.
     "Yeah."
     "Why?"
     "Because all orphaned things are called Carl to me. I don't know why."
     "You think I'm orphaned?"
     "I don't see anything surrounding you. I only see you-- alone-- and anything alone is a type of orphan, I suppose."
     "And any orphan you call Carl?"
     "Yes."
     "I'm not exactly an orphan. Both of my parents are alive and well."
     "That's nice," Nin took beer into her mouth.
     "My brother's dead."
     She held the beer there without swallowing.
     "He died a couple hours ago--," I pointed to the glass that she was holding, "May I?"
     Nin handed me the pint then swallowed hard.
    "What are you doing here?" She asked in stunned amazement.
    "The pub?"
    "Yeah."
     I shrugged, "The pub seems a better place than sitting in the flat."
     "Shouldn't you be going to your parents?"
     "Eventually. Maybe tomorrow. I don't drive so I'll have to take a train out. It's not a hurry," I tried to hand her back the glass but she waved it away, "He'll still be dead tomorrow."
     I drained the liquid clean.
     Nin got the look that most people get when they want to pry into something that isn't their business but know better of it.
     She folded her slim arms across her chest as though this would restrain her then held a hand at her mouth for good measure.
     "Um--," she released the noise. Immediately I knew the flood of inquiry that was coming and held nothing but contempt and dread for it until she said something equally as surprising to me as the news of my brother dying--
     
     "May I come with you?"

     I frowned and furrowed my brow before I gave her the answer that shocked us both.


     "Yes."